Chapter 212: Silence between footsteps
The wind was a constant whisper at their backs as they descended into the lower dunes, the sky overhead pressing down like a dull weight. Every step away from the cliff face felt too loud, too heavy, as if the sand itself might give them away. The glass-limbed thing hadn’t moved when they turned to leave, but Allen felt its attention like a nail being driven between his shoulder blades.
The thread in his palm was still dead—no pulse, no pull, just a length of silk that suddenly felt lifeless. That was worse than when it had been frantic. At least then, it had been telling him something. Now it was as if it had given up.
Rinni’s voice was low, barely more than a breath. "It’s still looking."
Allen didn’t ask how she knew. The way the hairs on his neck stood told him the same thing. He shifted course, keeping his back angled, never fully turning his head to check. Velith’s warning was burned into his skull—don’t cut it, don’t confront it, don’t give it a reason.
Fina stayed silent, her steps as smooth as if she were moving through a forest instead of sinking sand. Her tail swayed just enough to brush against Allen’s leg now and then, the contact small but grounding.
The dunes weren’t uniform here. Some sloped gently, others broke in jagged, wind-scoured walls, and Allen used each one as cover, putting as much uneven ground between them and the cliff as possible. Still, there were times he swore he heard something—not behind, but beneath. A faint shifting, like hundreds of fine threads drawing tight and then loosening again.
The sun, such as it was, dipped behind the steel-grey haze, and shadows stretched longer across the sand. It made distances tricky—what looked like a small ridge could be a cliff face, and what seemed far might be only a few steps away.
By the time Allen stopped, his calves ached from fighting the sand’s pull, and his throat was dry from the grit-laden wind. They sheltered in the lee of a tall dune, the hollowed-out space cutting the wind enough to let them hear themselves breathe.
"That thing..." Rinni started, then stopped, ears twitching toward the direction they’d come.
Fina’s eyes narrowed. "It’s not chasing us."
Allen crouched, resting his elbows on his knees. "Doesn’t have to. It knows where we are." He held up the thread, limp in his hand. "And whatever this is, it doesn’t like it anymore."
Rinni frowned. "Velith said it was for guiding you. So if it’s dead now..."