Before dawn, the camp stirred in silence.
No one needed to be woken twice. The plan they had agreed on the night before had stripped all laziness out of them. Even Taku, who usually found something to complain about no matter the hour, kept his mouth shut as he checked his weapon and tightened the straps on his gear. The fire had burned down to a bed of dull red embers, and above them the sky was still dark, though a faint paling had begun at the far edge of the horizon.
Nathan stood apart from the others for a moment, looking down toward the valley. In the dim light, Death God Valley seemed less like a place and more like a wound carved into the land. The mist still clung to it, thick and low, swallowing shapes and softening edges until everything below looked unreal. Somewhere inside that darkness, Genzo was waiting. Somewhere inside, Mitsuhide was preparing to move.
The bite on Nathan's neck throbbed with dull heat.
