Chapter 6 Six

The coin's warmth seeped into my palm, a steady, thrumming pulse that echoed the frantic beat of my heart. It wasn't just an object; it was a anchor in the swirling chaos of my terror. Kaelen's captured face, the final, strained whisper of my name in my mind—it was a brand seared onto my soul. The hollow ache of our severed bond was now filled with a new, terrifying purpose.

I couldn't stay here. The magical backlash from using the coin hung in the air like ozone after a storm, a beacon for whatever else called this cave home. Slipping the coin into the small inner pocket of the leather tunic, I felt its weight settle against my chest, a secret source of warmth. The bracer on my arm had cooled, its job as a divining rod complete.

I moved past the still form of the guardian, its rocky hide already looking like just another part of the cave. The tunnel leading away from the grotto was narrower, sloping upwards. I followed it, my senses screaming, expecting another monster or a dead end at every turn.

After what felt like an eternity of climbing, a sliver of real light appeared ahead—not the magical glow of moss or gold, but the grey, diffuse light of day. I scrambled towards it, my breath catching in my throat. The tunnel mouth was hidden behind a thick curtain of hanging vines. I pushed them aside, blinking against the light, and stepped out.

I stood on a mountainside, overlooking a vast, unfamiliar forest that stretched to a misty horizon. The air was clean and cold, sharp with the scent of pine and damp earth. There was no sign of a city, no hum of traffic, no familiar landmarks. I was well and truly lost.

But I was alive. And I had a direction. Not a geographical one, but a mission that burned in my chest with the same heat as the coin. Find Kaelen.

A flicker of movement in the periphery of my vision made me freeze. I dropped into a crouch, my heart in my throat. Had they found me already? I peered through the vines, my body tense.

Below, on a narrow game trail that snaked along the mountainside, a figure was moving. It wasn't one of the black-armored Syndicate enforcers. It was a man, tall and lean, dressed in practical, worn leathers. He had a bow slung across his back and moved with a hunter's silent grace. His hair was a shaggy, dark brown, and his ears were subtly, unmistakably pointed.

A Fae.

He stopped, his head tilting as if he'd heard a sound. He was looking directly at the cave entrance. Had he sensed the magic? Had he heard me?

My mind raced. The Fae were part of that world, the supernatural world of the auction. They could be an enemy. They could be aligned with Silas. But they also had their own agendas, their own conflicts. This one was alone, a hunter, not a soldier. An opportunity, or a death sentence?

Before I could decide, a guttural roar echoed from further down the trail. The Fae hunter spun around, nocking an arrow to his bow in one fluid motion. From the thick treeline, a massive, boar-like creature with tusks of jagged obsidian and eyes of smoldering coal charged into the clearing.

The hunter loosed his arrow. It struck the beast's thick shoulder and shattered. He cursed, reaching for another, but the creature was already on him, forcing him to dive sideways to avoid being gored.

This was it. My moment of choice. Hide and let nature take its course, or intervene and reveal myself.

The memory of Kaelen's voice, the warning in his eyes, warred with the sight of the lone hunter facing a monster. Hiding had kept me alive so far, but it had also left me alone and powerless. To find Kaelen, I needed to stop being a mouse. I needed to be a player.

My hand closed around the coin in my pocket. It flared warmly against my palm, as if in agreement.

I didn't know how to summon a wave of force again. That had been a fluke of panic and desperation. But I remembered the feeling of it—the focus, the will, the channeling of power. I focused on the beast, on the ground directly in front of its charging path. I poured my will into the coin, into the earth, imagining it not as solid ground, but as a trap.

Stop.

The energy that left me this time was subtler, quieter. There was no golden dome. Instead, the patch of earth and rock in front of the boar softened, liquefying instantly into a patch of deep, clinging mud. The creature's front legs plunged into the mire up to its chest, its momentum carrying its bulk forward in a jarring, bone-crunching halt. It squealed in rage and confusion, trapped and thrashing.

The Fae hunter, who had been scrambling backward, froze. He looked from the trapped beast to the suddenly created mud pit, his sharp, intelligent eyes wide with shock. Then, his gaze swept up the mountainside, and they locked directly onto me, still half-hidden in the vines.

He didn't look afraid. He didn't look angry. He looked… intensely curious.

Slowly, he lowered his bow. He made a gesture with his hand, palm open and facing down—a universal sign for peace, for "I mean no harm."

My breath hitched. It was a gamble. A terrifying, potentially fatal gamble.

I stood up, pushing the vines aside, and stepped out into the open. The cold mountain air bit at my skin. I met his gaze, my chin held high, the weight of the dragon's coin a secret promise against my heart.

The hunter gave me a slow, appraising look, taking in my too-large leathers, my human features, the lack of any visible weapon. A small, grim smile touched his lips.

"Well," he said, his voice a melodic baritone that carried easily on the thin air. "It seems the mountains are full of surprises today. A human witch, wielding earth magic strong enough to trap a Grim-tusk? I thought your kind preferred cities and… coffee."