By noon the following day, Greyfen had stopped trying to kill them, and Rowan was the first person to become uneasy about it.
Since leaving the ruined valley where they had killed the Gloomstrike Mantis, the group had travelled steadily north through increasingly ancient woodland.
The trees were larger here, their roots rising from the ground like walls, while curtains of moss hung from branches high overhead. Yet the deeper they travelled, the fewer signs Rowan found.
For most people, that would have made travelling easier. For Rowan, it made him slow down. He crouched beside a patch of damp earth beneath an enormous root and brushed away several leaves, following a set of broad, three-toed impressions for several yards before they abruptly changed direction.
