The night was chilly. I remained still, refusing to shiver. Any movement would be heard by the preternatural prey I stalked. Even my breathing was slow and regulated, so as not to mist in the unnaturally cold air—though my heart wanted to hammer its way out of my chest. My body wanted to fidget, every instinct telling me to move, to do something, preferably to run away, but I waited. Listening. Watching. The chattering noise echoed through the trees, and I knew I had struck proverbial gold. Excitement threatened to force my breathing into irregular gasps, but I remained controlled. The wind carried their shrill voices—the strange, animalistic language resonating through the interwoven branches overhead—and I knew they were coming closer. I dared to turn my head, ever so slowly, to peer around the tree trunk that was my camouflage. Two pairs of glowing eyes, the only parts of the creatures visible in the limited light, were bouncing in my direction. I would have only seconds. They drew closer, and I allowed my muscles to tense, prepared for the swift movements of my blade that would rend their malformed heads from their shoulders. They would pass within feet of me, and then they would be mine. So I thought. Without warning, a light flared just east of my position, causing spots to dance before my eyes and completely ruining my night vision. A string of choice invectives came to mind, but I suppressed my urge to curse and considered the possibility that I had gone unnoticed despite the unexpected flare. Stupid girl, Saena. Stupid, stupid. Still to the east, a loud male voice was snarling the choice words I had been contemplating mere seconds ago, and an accompanying crashing noise suggested he too was suffering from the same handicap to his night vision I now struggled to overcome. Even if I was stupid, it was a small comfort that I was not the only one. The two creatures were screeching now, their chattering filling the woods with an ungodly cackle. It was when one pair of lamplight eyes materialized next to me that I realized my hope of going unnoticed was in vain. I didn’t think. My arm moved of its own accord, slicing through bone and flesh as stick-like fingers reached for me, trying to latch on in the darkness. The chattering turned into a surprised howl and then a gurgle as my blade met its throat. My hiding place obviously ruined, I bolted into the open, seeking out the dying Fae’s friend. The crashing to my east continued, then cut off abruptly with a startled yell and a triumphant cackle. By the time I reached them, I was certain he was through. My night vision returning, all I could see was the man kneeling in middle of the woods, the short, twiggy creature latched around his neck with strong, wiry arms, its legs encircling his torso. That was usually the end of them, with these types of Fae. Hardly much of a challenge face-to-face, but once they got their arms around you, most of the time, you didn’t survive. Unfortunately, I couldn’t take its head off without risking most of the man’s neck being severed in the process as well. The man reached up, trying to pry the creature off. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew he didn’t have long without air. It would be over soon, the poor bastard. The best I could do was avenge him. It served him right, though, trying to light fires in a place like this at night. Anyone who lived in these parts without learning that didn’t live long. The creature was cackling gleefully, sensing its victory was at hand. But we were both surprised at what happened next. Where the man’s hands landed on the creature’s arms, flame suddenly erupted. I leapt back in shock—and to avoid the flailing creature, which released the man quickly with a startled shriek. It flapped its arms, trying to put out the flames, and the man stumbled to his feet, away from the creature, clutching his throat and gasping for breath. Instinct kicked in again. I bolted forward; with one neat slice, the creature’s head was separated from its shoulders. It still looked surprised when its head hit the ground. The man stumbled several more feet away, then collapsed against a tree trunk, shoulders heaving as he gasped for air. He turned a little to eye me warily through the dim light; I struggled to return his stare. My night vision had once again been compromised by his parlor tricks. “Who…in the world…are you?” he finally asked after we wasted several precious seconds staring at each other. “I could ask you the same question,” I snarled back, looking around and sheathing my blade. I walked over to him and reached up towards his face. He flinched back. “Oh, relax. If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead,” I muttered, taking his head in both hands and tilting it to the side. His throat had a dark line across it, already starting to bruise, but it didn’t look too bad. “You shouldn’t be here,” he managed to mutter between his heavy breathing. His eyes darted nervously. He had that much sense, at least. “Neither should you. Come on. I don’t think there are any more for a few miles, but the others may have heard the struggle.” Without waiting for an answer, I seized the man’s arm and started hauling him back the way I had come. The caravan was camped there, in relative safety. “Wait,” he mumbled, rather futilely. “The farm is the other way.” “I don’t think you’ll be making it there tonight, my friend,” I informed him waspishly. Didn’t he understand I was rescuing him from his own blundering? “You can head back in the morning.” He didn’t protest any further and fell into step beside me, allowing me to stop hauling him bodily along. “I’m Aerim,” he finally offered, rather sheepishly. “Saena,” I answered shortly. His name was fairly irrelevant to me; at the current rate, he would be food for the Dark Fae shortly. Though his parlor trick was rather interesting; perhaps I could get him to divulge it before he got himself killed.