Climbing always cleared her mind, and this tree was a joy to climb. Smooth bark, well-spaced branches. It might as well have been a ladder created for her benefit. She went up a good distance and settled herself into a fork.

“Can you see me?” she shouted.

“Are you sure you’re not spawned from squirrels?”

“So you can’t?”

“You’ll be fine. Just don’t fall down.”

From the treetop, the forest looked quite different. There was much more sky and more sun, but it was actually harder to see to the front and sides because leaves blocked her view. Kyra wondered if she’d be able to see Forge if she climbed higher.

Soon the sun waned, and cricket chirps replaced birdsong. Kyra found herself tiring more quickly than she’d expected. It was still early compared with what she was used to, but she was feeling the lingering effects of the poison. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she considered tying herself into the tree.

She was awakened by the brushing of leaves across her face, first one by one, then clumps at a time as she tipped off her branch. Kyra grabbed at leaves as her eyes snapped open, sending a few handfuls to the ground before her hands closed on solid wood. She hung there for a moment, palms raw, and squinted down toward Tristam’s shelter. She couldn’t see if he had noticed or if he was even awake.

That had been a bit too close. Slowly, Kyra pulled herself back up and added sleeping in trees to the list of things she wouldn’t do again. She waited for the crickets to resume their chirping, but they didn’t. There was a rustling to her right, perhaps ten trees away, but she couldn’t get a clear view.

Kyra climbed down, lowering herself from branch to branch until her feet touched dirt. From behind the bushes, Tristam looked at her questioningly. She caught his eye but didn’t try to explain. Better to be quiet. From the ground, she couldn’t see as well, but she could still detect the rustling in the distance—a shifting of leaves that went against the wind.

She left Tristam at the base of the tree and ran toward the movement. Somehow, the forest felt safer at night. The cool air invigorated her, and whatever dangers she feared earlier seemed less threatening with the darkness to keep her safe. As she came closer, Kyra slowed and ducked behind some trees, her breathing loud in her ears as shapes resolved in front of her. There was a line of shadows hiking through the trees. They had long hair and were clad in strange wraparound tunics. The Demon Riders walked silently in single file, gracefully stepping over roots and ducking under branches. Kyra couldn’t see all of them from where she was, but there must have been at least a hundred.