Kan and Heiro stood back to back, waiting for the mysterious symbols to unleash wrath on them, but when the wind died and the clouds drifted clear of the moon’s path, the eyes on the plaques had returned to the simple, lifeless etchings they were before.

Heiro asked after a long silence, “Who is the townsman that told you about this place?”

“An elder from the first house at the eastern end,” Kan replied.

“The first house at the eastern end?” Heiro’s voice was slightly unsteady. “That house has been unoccupied for years. For some reason, nobody wants to buy it. One of the council’s proposals today was to tear it down and use the bricks to mend other houses.”

Nobody lives here anymore, Kan remembered the old man’s words.

“We should probably leave,” Kan suggested. “The symbols might have already done something that we’re not aware of. I’ll visit the house again in the morning and see if I can find more clues.”

Heiro nodded, and the two cautiously retraced their footsteps out of the graveyard.

The way back to the inn seemed to take forever. Disturbed by the strange vision, neither Kan nor Heiro made an effort to quiet their steps, and the regular tapping of their boots on the pavement sounded particularly loud in the dead of the night. Only the occasional howls of wolves from a distance broke its steady rhythm.

Kan spoke at last when they were almost halfway. “What was this town like four hundred years ago?”

Heiro thought for a moment. “Skyward has been inhabited for thousands of years. The land surrounding these mountains used to be more arable, so most of the commoners living here were farmers. The population was largest just before the demons appeared—”

“Demons made it this close to the Temples?”

“Yes. Back then, there weren’t as many Masters and Grand Masters to guard this area. It was the same reason why the Temples couldn’t save the people in the South. We simply didn’t have enough hands.”

Kan considered. “If the population decreased noticeably after demon attacks … Could the graveyard be for those who were killed by demons?”

“I don’t think so. All the corpses were purged afterward, in case they could spread demon Aura. It’s uncommon to have a full graveyard with no buried bodies.”

It was uncommon enough to have a full graveyard with eyes etched on every plaque, Kan thought. More uncommonness wouldn’t make any difference.

He was opening his mouth to ask more about demon activities when Heiro suddenly paused in his tracks. “Something is closing in on us,” Heiro said, hand moving to the hilt of the long sword on his back.

Kan stopped. He didn’t sense any danger, but Heiro was far more experienced with Aura at Fourth Stage, and it never hurt to be cautious. They listened. The air was still without the slightest breeze, and the howls of wolves were the only sounds piercing the quiet.

The howls were drawing closer, Kan realized belatedly.

As if on cue, a pair of glowing eyes emerged from the bushes lining the street. Round, yellow-green with dark pupils—wolf’s eyes.

Another pair appeared beside it. Then another behind them. Kan counted at least fifty as they revealed themselves one by one, surrounding the two men from all sides. It was too many for even the largest packs Kan had ever heard of.

He reached for his sword. He had forgotten that he had taken a dagger in its place given Oyen’s warning. When his hand gripped an unfamiliar hilt, he remembered his situation and cursed the bad timing inwardly, switching the dagger into his left hand.

“Wait until they attack first,” Heiro commanded when he saw Kan’s movement. “And don’t hold their gaze.”

Kan gave Heiro a questioning look. “I know a thing or two about wolves,” Kan said. An understatement after his four years as a sword for hire. “Showing submission and vulnerability won’t work against predators that are already aggressive. It will only make them more eager to attack.”

Heiro didn’t offer counterarguments. “Please,” he said simply, then shifted his feet and crouched into a low guard position. His hand was still resting on his sword hilt, though he didn’t draw the blade.

Puzzled, Kan slid the dagger behind his back to hide it from view, but he kept his watch on the glowing eyes as they moved closer and closer before finally stepping out of the shadows.

The beasts were similar to common mountain wolves, only larger and lighter in color. Their gray fur shone almost silver under the pale moon, and their white feet padded soundlessly over the stone street beneath. Their eyes were fixed intently on the two men. Despite the round shape of those pupils, Kan thought he felt once more the slit eyes from the gravestones staring at him with that eldritch, ferocious hunger.

The wolves formed a tight circle around their target, growling and baring their teeth. Kan darted a glance at Heiro.

Heiro must have understood the wolves’ signal to attack. His grip tightened around his sword, but still, he hesitated. His lips were pursed tight as if struggling to make a very difficult decision.

A realization dawned on Kan. During his journeys on escort missions, he had learned bits and pieces about the various customs and beliefs throughout the North, and one of them was that wolves were sacred in a region near the North-South border. “You are from Ninewaters?” he asked.

Heiro tensed visibly. He sounded reluctant to admit it when he said, “You know quite a lot about the North.”

The wolves closed in further while they spoke, sharp fangs glinting in the moonlight. “We can’t just pray for their mercy,” Kan said, searching for the best words to persuade Heiro. “If the wolves are determined on their prey—”

“I sense no malice in them,” Heiro said. “They don’t see us as prey. They seem to be … afraid of us, yet are somehow determined to act in defense.”

Kan didn’t expect that. “You are certain?”

“I can’t say if fear drove them here, but there is fear in them, this much I’m sure of.”

What could’ve caused such an unusual behavior in such a large pack of wolves? Kan and Heiro exchanged a look between them. “The symbols,” they said simultaneously.

“We need to get back to the graveyard,” Kan added. “Can you make the wolves back off enough for us to pass through?”

Heiro nodded. Before drawing his sword, he produced a talisman from his robe and uttered a spell. “I’m not the best with talismans,” he said as the paper turned into a sprinkle of light and enveloped the two of them. “This probably won’t be enough for us to outrun the wolves, but it should enhance our speed to some extent.”

“Every bit helps,” Kan said, already feeling his body getting lighter. He bent low, ready to move on Heiro’s strike.

With a shing, Heiro unsheathed his long sword and swept out a low arc around them. He aimed for the ground five paces away, just within the wolves’ shrinking circle. As the blade sliced through the air, the golden Aura flowing from its tip cut deep into the pavement, sending up crumbles and dust like a black cloud in the dim light. The wolves whined and backed away warily from the ashes.

“Now!” Heiro shouted.

They bolted in the direction of the graveyard, boots slapping hard against the ground. Wind buffeted their faces, and the houses on their sides fleeted backward. Kan savored the feeling—his steps hadn’t been so nimble and swift in years. As Heiro predicted, however, the talisman’s effect was limited, and the chorus of growls and panting caught up with them quickly. Kan glanced back, judging the distance to time his defense.

“I can tell you their positions,” Heiro said. “Just focus on full speed.”

Kan took the offer and did as he was bid. The sound of claws clicking and scratching against the pavement drew closer and closer. He paid it no heed, keeping his attention on the road ahead. A jaw snapped closed a bare width of a hair behind him, and he felt the gush of air brushing over his heel. He winced. Heiro’s Aura sensing better be trustworthy.

“On your left,” Heiro warned. Kan steered right, and another jaw bit down where his left foot had been. His doubt over Heiro’s ability lessened. “Your neck,” Heiro warned again. Kan ducked, swirling in his path to clear out of the way of a wolf leaping over his head.

They could see the big oak tree now, looming in the distance like a hunched old man stretching out his arms in a crooked embrace. The wolves trailed close in their wake, and the sound of both men and beasts panting echoed in the narrow alleyway. Kan wondered how many people might be awakened by this chase across half of the town.

Heiro grunted as a wolf bit down on his arm and caught his sleeve, tearing off a large patch of fabric. They didn’t slow. The graveyard finally came into view. Kan gasped when they drew close enough to make out the outline of the gravestones spreading under the tree. From a different distance than before, he could now see the true pattern of what he thought earlier was an ellipse—it was the shape of an eye, with the oak tree at its center.

“I know what to do with the symbols,” Kan said. He didn’t know how he knew, only that the idea came to him the moment he recognized the pattern. He charged straight at the oak tree and opened his arms, slamming into the gnarled trunk in an all too impactful embrace.