Flowing Spore could not move as fast as the viper because the cold radiated by its body slowed the wisps to a crawl. One by one it devoured them, until they were all gone. No trace remained of the doomed mouse. The stalks of the sedge withered, flaking away into dust.

The viper circled the dead tuft three times, then shoved its nose persistently at one spot.

Elen dug with the tip of the obsidian blade to reveal the shiny cap of a pale mushroom-like growth. Uncovered, it smelled strongly of the sweet rose oil that had attracted the poor mouse to its doom. She unstoppered the vial of salt spirit and poured it onto the irruption. The spirit sizzled as the salt spell took effect to chew through the Spore. It did not die quietly; there came a keening in the air that cut like claws against her ears, but left no visible mark. The cap blackened into ash, and a horrific stench hit her nostrils.

“Aunt Elen.”

She jolted back, terrified that Kem had followed her. That he had seen the viper.

But he wasn’t there. No one was there. The ghostly murmur was the Pall’s last desperate attempt at survival.

The stench faded. The viper nosed forward, sticking its head into the hole left behind by the now-dissolved mushroom cap. When the viper retreated, there was nothing left, not even the ashy grit. The snake circled the dead sedge three more times before lifting its head and tasting the air with its tongue. Its spiky tail lashed the ground, leaving gouges as if marking its victory.

The Spore was gone.

9 THREE WELL-SPRUNG CARRIAGES

As Elen reached the lookout, Kem turned to greet her. His dust-streaked face was alight, grinning, excited.

“There’s a caravan on the road, coming from the direction of Ilvewind Cross. Do you think they came especially for our Declaration Week festivities? Joef says that in the days before the Pall there used to be traveling fairs that would set up to help a Moat or Halt celebrate—” He broke off as he looked at her closely, brow furrowing with concern. “You all right? You look kind of gray and weird.”

She wiped beads of sweat off her forehead. “Just tired,” she lied.

Her arm still hurt, but the chills that always set in as the viper returned into her body were beginning to subside. She’d jogged part of the way up the last steep slope to heat herself up.

“You didn’t get much sleep last night,” he observed sagely, then elbowed her as he waggled his expressive eyebrows. “Were you watching for the haunt? What if it was a handsome soldier, like that one who was part of the escort for the cohort of imperial engineers who came out last year to try to clear the road?”

She sighed wearily, rubbing her arm.