Morning light slid through the birches in long, soft bars. Mist clung low to the grass. Ashwyn tapped his staff against the mossed boulder and nodded to Ari.
"Yesterday, shadows and frost," he said. "Today, the sky."
Ari tightened the strap on her bracer and lifted her arm to the open air. She didn't look nervous, but Rowan saw how careful her jaw was set.
The air seemed to fold once. A hawk dropped out of the pale light—broad wings, brown feathers with a faint gold shimmer at the edges, eyes bright as amber. It beat its wings twice and settled on Ari's wrist. The talons came down gentle, as if it already knew her.
Rowan let out a small sound he didn't mean to. "It's… real."
"Link," Ashwyn said, voice low. "Not with force. With room. Give it space to show you."
Ari drew a breath and let her eyelids half close.
The change hit her at once. Her knees wobbled. Lyra stepped in, steadying her with a hand on the elbow.
"Easy," Lyra murmured. "Heels down."
"I'm all right," Ari said, but her voice sounded far away. "It's dizzying. I can see the meadow and the sky at the same time. My eyes are fighting."
"Anchor," Ashwyn said. "Stand in your own body. Let the hawk come back to you."
Ari breathed slower. The tightness left her shoulders. The hawk blinked once, as if answering something only it heard.
"I can see the river bend," Ari whispered. "A deer trail, north. Two crows stealing from each other." A small smile touched her mouth. "The world looks smaller from up there."
Ashwyn pointed past the boulder, toward a scrubby stand of brush thirty paces away. "There is a hollow in the stump behind that thicket. From here, you cannot see it. The hawk can. Take it."
Ari nodded, drew an arrow, and nocked it. She kept her eyes closed.
She drew. Loosed.
The arrow hissed past the boulder. A breath later came a clean thunk.
They jogged around. The shaft sat dead center in a hidden hollow. Wood had split neat around it.
Brennar gave a low whistle. "Remind me not to bet against you."
Rowan grinned, wide and boyish. "You didn't even look."
"The hawk looked for me," Ari said simply, stroking the bird's chest feathers with a finger.
They practiced again. Ari sent the hawk circling higher, then loosed at another unseen target. Again, the arrow found its mark. By the fourth shot her draw and release looked smooth, like she had been doing it for years.
Rowan crouched by the stump and shook his head. "You didn't even blink. That's not fair."
A hard screech tore the air. Rowan flinched as the hawk dropped low, wings brushing his hair. There was a snap, and when the bird rose it had a fat horsefly in its talons. It gulped it down in one bite.
Rowan clapped a hand to his ear. "Warn me before you sic your pet sky-rat on me!"
Ari's mouth quirked. "It was a horsefly."
Nyx smirked, tossing her dagger from hand to hand. "Looked like you almost flew, too."
Rowan groaned. "One day I'll have something impressive. You'll see."
"Mm," Nyx said dryly. "We'll clap loudly."
Even Brennar chuckled.
Ashwyn wasn't done. He walked them back behind the boulder and set a flat stone on a low stump where none of them could see it from the front. He touched the ground with his staff. "Again. Link. Do not chase the sight. Let it come to you."
Ari stood, lifted her arm. The hawk leapt, wings flashing. Ari's eyes slid closed. She breathed in, out.
"Now," Ashwyn said.
Ari loosed. The arrow snapped away and thunked into the hidden stone. When they checked it, the shaft sat chipped and true.
Rowan laughed under his breath. "All right. I believe."
They kept at it. Ari practiced walking while linked, learning how not to trip when her mind wanted to be two places at once. She shot a hanging leaf and split it in the air. She sent an arrow blind into the thicket at a moving shape the hawk saw, then waded in and dragged out a rabbit by the ears.
"Dinner," she said, handing it to Brennar.
He grinned and took it. "Finally, a hunt where I don't do all the work."
They made a small fire, careful and low. The rabbit sizzled in the pan. Lyra handed out water and a pinch of salt. Rowan ate slow, eyes still drifting up to the hawk where it perched on a branch, feathers stirring.
When they finished eating, Rowan wiped his hands on his trousers and looked between the bird and Nyx. "What are they called?"
Nyx tilted her head. "Called?"
"You know. Names." He lifted both hands. "You're not going to shout 'oi, bird, come here' every time, are you?"
Ari paused, bowstring forgotten. She said it softly, like a word that had been waiting for a mouth. "Oriel."
Rowan smiled. "Nice. Regal. Suits it."
Nyx flipped her dagger and caught it. "Pan. For panther."
Rowan stared at her, deadpan. "Pan. The mighty and terrifying… cooking utensil."
Nyx's smirk widened. "Careful. Pans get hot."
Brennar actually laughed at that—one short bark that sounded more like the old him.
They went back to work. Ashwyn set a thistle at twenty paces. "Combat. Not killing blows—disruption. Hawk first."
Ari whistled two quick notes. The hawk skimmed the grass, struck the thistle head, and burst it into fluff. Without slowing, it wheeled and shot for Rowan's face again. He flinched on instinct and felt a brush of wind as the bird shaved past his ear to snag another fly.
Rowan rubbed his ear, laughing. "You and I are going to have words, Oriel."
The hawk blinked at him like it didn't care at all.
"Good," Ashwyn said, pleased. "Distraction, blind, noise. Useful. Pair your shot with its strike."
They tried it together. On Ashwyn's count, the hawk dove for the thistle's stem as Ari loosed. The arrow hit as the bird clawed. The plant fell clean, smooth as a thought.
"Again," Ashwyn said. "On moving men, it will be eyes and opening."
Ari nodded, breathing easy now. "I can do that."
They kept at it until the sun pushed the shadows short. Twice Ari stumbled when the hawk banked hard; twice Lyra caught her wrist and put her heels back on earth. Each time it got easier. By the last try, Ari could walk, link, and shoot without a wobble.
Rowan watched, grinning like a child at a fair. He felt no sting—only the clean joy of seeing a hard thing done well.
They packed their gear as the light shifted toward afternoon. Brennar stamped out the small fire. Nyx sheathed her knives and spun one once, just because she liked the feel. Ashwyn turned to shoulder his pack.
Ari froze.
The hawk had leapt from its branch. It climbed hard, wings beating, then leveled, gliding south-east. Ari's breath caught. Her eyes went far.
"What is it?" Rowan asked, already knowing from her face that it was not good.
"Dust," Ari whispered. "A line of it. South and a little east." Her voice thinned. "Men. Wagons. Armor."
Ashwyn straightened. "How many?"
"Dozens," she said. "Maybe more. Moving fast, cutting across the fields." Her throat worked. "Not on the road. They're avoiding watchers."
Brennar's jaw set. "A raiding party."
Ari swallowed. "There's a village ahead. Low fences. Grain fields. I can see people… they're still working." Her mouth flattened. "They don't know."
Rowan felt his pulse climb, hard and cold.
Ari's hand clenched tighter around the bow. "And—" She stopped, listening hard to something above her head. "There's a boy. By the well. He's… glowing." Her voice fell. "Like Rowan did. A Flicker."
Silence pulled tight around them.
Ashwyn's face went stone. "Then the corruption will be there before us," he said. He lifted his staff. "We move. Now."
Brennar didn't argue. He kicked dirt over the last ember and slung his axe. Nyx already had a knife in each hand. Lyra snatched up her pack and a roll of clean cloth, eyes sharp. Rowan set the haft of his harpoon against his palm, felt the cool weight of the waterskin at his hip, and nodded once.
They slid into the birch lane and set a hard pace. Above them, the hawk cut clean circles into the sky, then tilted and streaked ahead, a living arrow pointing the way. The meadow that had held their laughter a moment ago lay quiet behind them. Ahead, dust rose in a thin brown thread, and the soundless shape of trouble moved through the fields toward a village that did not yet know its doom.
Rowan didn't look back. He didn't have to. The road had chosen them. It was time to choose it back.