When at last they reached the valley, Padric’s legs were quivering and it felt odd to be walking again on flat ground. He tossed a glance skyward. It could not be much past midday, but the continued absence of the sun made it difficult to determine. The clearing seemed a reasonable spot to rest, but the prospect of easier terrain encouraged Padric to push on. The darkening clouds gathering to the east solidified his decision.

A breeze filled the dell, bringing the smell of approaching rain. Padric did not want to be caught out in the open during a storm, and if his sleep was to be fretful, he would rather it was at least dry. He set off to the west at a brisk pace, allowing the flat ground and long strides to stretch the tension out of his legs. The open terrain allowed Rosheen to travel alongside him, her wings propelling her leisurely along. The pair made good time and covered a fair distance, but the clouds continued to follow, rolling steadily up their heels. The land grew increasingly scrubby to their left before becoming overtaken by the edge of the forest. To their right, the fields grew steep and rocky, so they stayed in the flat lands between, keeping course until they would have no choice but to enter the woodlands once again.

Padric turned and faced the approaching clouds, continuing to walk backwards. The storm head was the color of black wool and moved threateningly towards them.

“Grand,” he muttered dryly and turned back around. “I doubt we can stay ahead of it for long.”

“Then we get wet,” Rosheen said dismissively.

They pushed on, the edge of the forest pressing ever closer to their left and dominating the view ahead. Padric hoped there would be a trail, but he was now traveling blind. He did not know this country, but trusted that Fafnir would not embark on an overly dangerous route. Ingot was a sure footed mule, but laden with steel tools and weapons he was likely to step wrong without a decent trail and Padric doubted the peddler would take such a risk. There would be a trail. There must be. Unless Padric had already made an error and taken them in the wrong direction.

The ground to their right leveled off slightly and Padric saw something resting on one of the lower hills. He stopped for a moment. It was stonework, the ruins of what looked to have once been a tower of some kind.

“Rosheen,” he said and nodded toward the structure.

“Ruins,” Rosheen said with little interest. “Quite common in Airlann, Padric.”