Xavier narrowed his eyes, trying to discern shapes through the relentless curtain of snow. The dark forms among the trees shifted—or seemed to. A trick of the wind, perhaps, or his mind conjuring threats from shadows.
"Those aren't rocks," Efler confirmed, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "Don't stare directly at them. They track eye movement."
Naomi pressed against Xavier's side. "How many?"
"I count seven. Maybe more hidden by the trees." Efler reached for her crossbow, checking the tension . "They're waiting for something."
"For what?" Xavier asked.
"For us to be vulnerable." She nodded toward the guards clearing debris. "Like now."
Outside, men grunted as they dragged shattered wagon parts from the path. Each movement sent clouds of snow into the air, further reducing visibility. The wind carried their voices in broken fragments.
"—spine went clean through—"
"—never seen this many—"
"—frozen solid, poor bastards—"
