The boy and Alaric finally broke into a light jog through the grass, feeling its warmth beneath their feet—though it was a warmth lost on anyone wearing thick shoes. They were heading toward a wooden boat tied at the edge of the shore. It wasn't far, just a few paces away. Yet for the two of them, it felt like crossing a vast chasm. Every step echoed in their ears like thunder. The tension in the air was so thick it could've been sensed even by the ants crawling along tree trunks.
Alaric loosened the rope securing the small rowboat. His hands moved quickly and efficiently, as if he had done this many times before under pressure. The wood creaked as the waves touched it, adding a faint, ominous noise to the already unsettling rhythm of footsteps coming from behind. The man hadn't noticed them yet, but he was getting closer with every second. The boy did what he could to help untangle the rope, trying to get the boat free.
