"It's guiding us," Lira whispered.
Kael's mind reeled. The map wasn't just etched on his skin. It was alive, leading him somewhere—right now.
Behind them, footsteps echoed closer. The Cartographer's voice was almost gentle. "Do you feel it, boy? That tug in your blood? The Path calling you home?"
Kael's skin burned where the mark lay. He stumbled forward, clutching his shoulder. His body was screaming at him—run east. Run now.
"Come on!" Lira shoved him toward the doorway.
They burst out into the freezing night. Snow crunched under their boots as they tore across the empty square. Townsfolk peered nervously from shuttered windows, afraid to intervene.
The road east stretched into darkness. Kael didn't know what lay beyond. Woods, cliffs, maybe worse. But the mark on his back burned hotter with every step in that direction.
Behind them, the library's doors creaked open. The Cartographer stepped out, calm as a man strolling through a garden. His black cloak trailed across the snow without leaving a trace.
Kael and Lira ran harder.
---
They left the town behind. The cobblestones gave way to dirt, the fields to thick pines rising like jagged spears against the moonlight. Kael's lungs burned. His legs ached. Still, he ran.
Lira glanced back, gasping. "He's not chasing."
Kael slowed, heart pounding. He risked a glance over his shoulder.
The Cartographer stood at the town's edge, watching them. His hands were folded neatly behind his back, as though he had all the time in the world. When he saw Kael looking, he raised one hand and pointed.
East.
Kael shuddered.
"He's letting us go," Lira whispered.
"That doesn't make sense."
"It makes perfect sense," she muttered grimly. "He doesn't need to catch you. The Path will bring you straight to him eventually. He's patient. He'll wait at the end."
Kael clenched his fists. He hated it—hated being nothing more than prey, hated that mark burned into his skin. He wanted to rip it off, throw it away. But he couldn't. It was part of him.
Lira placed a hand on his shoulder. "We need to follow it. Find out what it's leading to—before he does."
Kael hesitated. "What if it's leading us to him?"
"Then we'll be ready," she said, eyes hard.
Kael wasn't convinced. But the burning in his back pulsed insistently, each throb pushing him eastward. If he resisted, it only hurt worse, like his skin might tear open.
He didn't have a choice.
---
They walked until their legs gave out. By dawn, they reached a clearing deep in the woods. Frost sparkled on the grass. Kael collapsed against a tree, chest heaving.
Lira paced, restless. "We can't stay long. If the hunters spread out—"
"Then what?" Kael snapped, voice hoarse. "Run forever? Until the mark drags me into some pit?"
Lira's jaw tightened. "Do you want answers or not?"
Kael glared at her, then slumped. "I don't even know who I am anymore."
She softened, crouching beside him. "You're Kael. But you're also the bearer of the Path. And that means…" She hesitated. "That means the fate of more than just yourself is at stake."
Kael's laugh was bitter. "Great. Just what I always wanted."
The burning in his back flared suddenly, sharper than ever. He gasped, clutching at his shoulder. Lira leaned forward.
"It's changing again, isn't it?"
Kael groaned, tugging his shirt collar down. The mark was shifting before their eyes, the spiral stretching further, the starburst sliding along the lines. It was pointing them deeper into the woods.
Lira's eyes gleamed. "The next step."
Kael wanted to scream. Instead, he shoved himself to his feet. "Fine. But if this kills me, I'll haunt you."
"Deal," she said with a faint smile.
Together, they set off again.
High above, in the pale morning sky, a crow circled once before flying east—toward the path the mark had revealed.
And far behind them, at the edge of town, the Cartographer watched the horizon with patient eyes.
"The boy runs," he murmured. "Good. The Path will teach him to crawl back to me."
The forest thinned after two days of walking, trees giving way to cracked earth and wind-scoured stone. The air grew hotter, the wind drier. Kael tugged at his collar, sweat sticking his shirt to his back where the mark pulsed like a second heartbeat.
"This doesn't look like much of a desert," Kael muttered, eyeing the barren expanse.
"Not yet," Lira said. She shielded her eyes from the rising sun. "But the map is pulling us straight into it."
Kael grunted. His legs ached from days of travel. They had stolen food where they could—half a loaf from a careless merchant, a skin of water from an abandoned well. But supplies were nearly gone.
As the sun climbed higher, the ground shifted. Dust glittered strangely underfoot, crunching like broken glass. Kael crouched, pinching a shard between his fingers. It was translucent, sharp enough to slice his skin.
"This isn't sand," he said slowly. "It's…"
"Glass," Lira finished grimly.