The column stretched for nearly a mile.
Forty-seven wagons, two hundred thirty-one people, countless animals and children and precious possessions. They moved slow as a wounded snake, winding through hills that had once been blighted but now bloomed with tentative green.
I rode at the front, as they expected. The Gardener leading his people to safety. It felt wrong—I'd never led anything larger than a party—but they looked to me, so I tried to look like I knew where I was going.
East. That's all I knew. East to the mountains, to the caves where the first Heartwood had grown, to the ancient places the Demon Lord couldn't follow.
Mira scouted ahead, as she always had. Vance and Dorn flanked the column, visible threats to discourage any who thought the refugees looked like easy prey. Elara moved among the wagons, healing blisters and calming fears and being the gentle presence everyone needed.
I watched the horizon and tried not to think about what followed.
---
The first attack came on the third day.
Not from the Demon Lord—from men. Bandits, attracted by the sight of so many wagons, so few obvious guards. They came screaming from a treeline, twenty strong, thinking they'd found easy pickings.
They hadn't counted on Dorn.
The giant met them head-on, his massive shield catching the first wave like a wall of stone. His axe swung in arcs that cleared space around him, and when the bandits tried to flank, Vance was there, his sword a blur of precise violence.
I stayed with the wagons, using my power to thicken the brush around our perimeter, to create barriers of thorn and vine that channeled the attackers into kill zones. It wasn't glorious work, but it was effective.
By the time Mira returned from her scout, the bandits were either dead or fled, and the column was intact.
"Six more ahead," she reported, glancing at the bodies. "Watching. Waiting. They'll send word."
"To whom?"
"Whoever's paying." She met my eyes. "Word spreads fast when there's a bounty on your head."
I'd expected it. Didn't make it easier.
"We need to move faster."
"We can't. The wagons—"
"I know." I looked at the column, at the families, at the children peeking from canvas covers. "I know."
---
That night, around a carefully shielded fire, we planned.
Vance spread a map across a crate. "The mountains are still two weeks away, at this pace. Maybe three. That's a lot of time for attacks."
Mira pointed to a range of hills. "There's an old fort here. Abandoned for decades, but the walls are stone. We could hold there, send runners ahead to scout the mountain passes."
"And leave the wagons exposed while we scout?" Vance shook his head. "Too risky."
Elara spoke quietly. "What if we didn't all go to the same place?"
We looked at her.
"The Demon Lord wants Roy. He wants the Gardener. The rest of us... we're just leverage. Ways to get to him." She met my eyes. "If we split up, send most of the column somewhere safe while you and a small group go ahead—"
"He'd follow me. Leave the others alone."
"Exactly."
Vance frowned. "That's a hell of a gamble. What if he doesn't take the bait?"
"He will." Mira's voice was certain. "I've been hunting his servants for five years. I know how his mind works. He's obsessed with Roy. Nothing else matters."
I looked at the map, at the hills and mountains and long roads between.
"How many would come with me?"
"Volunteers only," Elara said. "People who can fight, or move fast, or don't have families to protect." She paused. "I'd stay with the main group. Someone needs to keep them calm."
Dorn grunted. "I go with Roy."
Vance nodded. "Obviously."
Mira just looked at me. "I go where you go."
Four volunteers. Plus me. It would have to be enough.
---
We found twelve.
Farmers who'd fought in their youth. Hunters who knew the woods. A retired soldier who'd lost his family to the blight and had nothing left to lose. They came forward one by one, quiet and determined, and I tried to memorize each face.
The main column would head for a fortified town three days east, where the walls were high and the people sympathetic. Elara would lead them, with detailed instructions on who to trust and what to say.
The rest of us would go ahead. Fast. Light. Toward the mountains and whatever waited there.
On the morning of the fourth day, we parted.
Elara hugged me longer than expected. "Come back," she whispered. "Party 147 isn't complete without you."
"I will."
She didn't look like she believed me. But she let go, climbed onto her wagon, and led the column east.
We turned toward the mountains and didn't look back.
---
The trails grew steeper, the air thinner.
We moved at a pace that left even the fittest gasping, but no one complained. The twelve volunteers proved their worth—hunters finding game, farmers sharing rations, the old soldier organizing watches with quiet efficiency.
Mira scouted ahead, always ahead, returning each evening with reports. "Three more bounty hunters on the eastern ridge. Turned them back." "Signs of a scouting party, maybe a day behind. We're gaining." "The mountains are close. Two more days, maybe less."
On the sixth night, she didn't return.
We waited until dark, then longer. Vance paced. Dorn sharpened his axe obsessively. The volunteers whispered among themselves, casting worried glances at the darkness.
I sat apart, reaching out with my deeper sense, feeling for Mira's familiar presence.
Nothing.
Then, just before dawn, she appeared.
She was limping, her arm bound in a bloody cloth, her face pale. Behind her, three figures followed—strangers, armed, watchful.
"Company," she said flatly. "Not enemy. Not exactly."
One of the strangers stepped forward, pushing back a hood to reveal features I hadn't seen in years.
Alan Lionheart.
"Gardener." He nodded, as if we'd parted yesterday. "The Demon Lord's servants are two days behind you, moving fast. We bought you some time." He glanced at his companions—Max Walton, stepping from the shadows, and Eve Snowfall, her presence a chill wind. "The Five are gathering. Light sent us ahead. The rest will meet us in the mountains."
I stared at them—three of the most powerful beings in the world, here, in this forgotten pass, because of me.
"Why?"
Alan's expression didn't change. "Because if the Demon Lord takes you, we all lose. Simple math."
Max nodded. "We've analyzed the probabilities. Your survival correlates with positive outcomes across all scenarios."
Eve said nothing, but her winter eyes held something I couldn't name.
Mira leaned against me, exhausted. "They're telling the truth. I checked."
I looked at the path ahead, the mountains rising dark against the stars.
"Then let's not keep the darkness waiting."
---