The hunter’s hide was built six feet off the forest floor and set well back off the trail where the path turned sharply. It wouldn’t win any beauty awards, but it was strong enough to hold all four men in a pinch. A camouflage tarp on one wall served as a cover and let the archers look out from holes with flaps sewn into the canvas. Standing, the archers could cover the 100 meters of exposed trail in both directions. The two spearmen kept watch on the forest floor under the hideout, but they were more to protect the archers than anything else.

The enormous broad leaves of the short and stubby arasan trees growing nearby helped hide the group’s camp and activities. Of course, the cover wasn’t entirely natural, and they’d spent a bit of time shifting some of the nearby limbs with hidden ropes to hold them in place between the trail and their hideout. Viewed from the narrow path, anyone would have a tough time finding their hidden position. With the sudden curve in the trail, they had almost unobstructed views of any passing travelers.

Abaden leaned against the tree inside their hideout, idly scratching his side. He was pretty sure one of the damn trees was infested with acid ants. His eyes moved idly along the forest and his end of the trail, unsurprised by the lack of travelers. They hadn’t seen anyone since they’d started their watch a few days ago, but they were here just in case someone got creative in navigating the woods. Their leader was a little paranoid about anyone near his territory, not that Abaden would ever dream of saying it where Boss Aengus could hear it.

The rest of their people were in similar groups covering the main trails nearby in Eld Forest, just a day’s hike if you went directly through the forest. Not that anyone would do that. Cutting through Eld Forest was a good way to get eaten by the Demon. They’d have to travel for days to return to their main camp to the south once their relief came next week.

With such a small group and no backup closer than a few days away, they were here to scout. Being far from towns or cities, this route was generally used by the local hunters or smugglers. They tended to travel in groups with their weapons handy – not the type his people would want to mess with on even a good day. Still, from their hunter’s hide, they’d be able to see any movement and let Boss Aengus know about it in their weekly report.

They’d only been here a short time, but Abaden was already looking forward to his return. There was a new woman Aengus had brought in just a day before Abaden’s group had left for their shift. She’d still had a defiant fire in her eyes, which might still be there when he made it back. If Abaden could get some valuable information from this location, he might get a suitable reward like a bit of alone time with Aengus’ newest “guest.”

Of course, if it was something dangerous for the Boss, they’d have to abandon their post early. The orders were clear, and everybody wanted to keep the Boss happy. That story about Boss Aengus ripping a man’s limbs off one at a time, all while laughing, made an impression on people.

Abaden stilled as he saw movement and made a low-pitched whistle imitating a red-breasted eski, just loud enough to get his group’s attention. Standing beside him with his bow, Tram looked toward where Abaden was staring. Below the hide, Trem, Tram’s older brother, and Kar stood ready with their spears, and they all looked up the trail where a couple of people walked toward them at a healthy pace on the narrow trail. The two were not carrying much, with the man holding a long stick or staff while the woman had only a blue shawl around her shoulders. Without obvious weapons or a pack train, they weren’t likely hunters or smugglers either.

Even though they were still a reasonable distance away, Abaden strained to push what little energy he had into his Longsight ability. His power wasn’t good enough for a Gifted or even a Talent. Still, more than good enough for this, and a heartbeat later, his eyes felt the strain and pressure while the two distant travelers suddenly grew large and came into sharp focus. The man was either very tall, or the woman was very short. After careful inspection, Abaden figured the man was just that tall, given the relative size of the bushes nearby. He didn’t look like much of a threat, even walking with an iron-capped staff. The woman next to him didn’t have a light shawl as he’d thought, but some strangely colored blue cloth wrapped around her shoulders. Both looked around at their surroundings, but neither appeared aware of their silent watchers.

Abaden had to make a quick decision since they weren’t here to attack anyone but to track who went through for Boss Aengus. Still, with only a pair of targets, there was walking money waiting to be snatched. The two strangers only had the staff and maybe a belt knife or two. Neither was dressed particularly well, but that could have been a clever ruse. He guessed they might have small valuables on them since they had no packs and were traveling out where no one should be. That, or they were dregs, barely worth the trouble of putting a couple of arrows in them. Either way, there should be little risk for his group.

He made a short and low whistle a second time, copying a different bird to signal his team. Tram straightened beside him and shifted his grip on his bow, preparing for the attack. Their two old bows were not the greatest but were good enough to easily reach the forty-meter marks they’d left on the trail in both directions.

Picking up an arrow of his quiver nearby, close at hand for his reload, he set the end carefully into the string. The first shot was likely the last in these situations, so he took his time, almost savoring the moment, and waited to draw, following the same steps he’d used for years. They were just good habits to him and had become the practice in a world where his life was often in danger.

As the strangers walked closer, Abaden focused on the man whose height might even top Boss Aengus. He smiled, imagining his arrow taking that brute’s life instead of the approaching man carrying little more than a walking stick. With the distance, he’d be able to get off at least two additional shots, even if he somehow missed his first arrow.

Shaking off his fantasy of killing his boss, he concentrated on the task and looked over to see that Tram had his own arrow nocked. Abaden gave the younger man a nod, noting the foolish grin and look in his eyes often found in the stupid or inexperienced. Hoping to settle his companion down, he whispered, “I got the man. She’s yours. Aim for the center, and don’t get fancy.” Tram looked over, and the younger man nodded jerkily and looked back at their targets.

Abaden held in his snort of derision, not needing to distract the man any further. Instead, he focused on his own task to complete. He took a breath and relaxed his shoulders, turning to set the proper stance while bringing up his bow. He drew the string in a single motion, his right hand close against his face where the fletching’s feathers tickled his skin. He pushed thoughts of Boss Aengus away as his eyes and gift zeroed in on the tall man’s center mass, the image filling his vision as if only a few meters away.

The woman abruptly stopped just before crossing the marked spot. Her eyes were scanning around, her furrowed brows catching something wrong with the trail ahead of her. The less experienced Tram would likely miss his shot if she gave warning or moved.

“Fire,” Abaden whispered. The two shots were made at almost the same instant. The swishthump of their fire produced a sound discordant among the forest’s natural noises but was far too quiet to be heard from the trail.

The man on the path had slowed when the woman stopped and was turning to her, but as if somehow sensing the attack, he suddenly jumped towards his woman, his staff coming up impossibly fast, and tumbled off the trail with Abaden’s shot completely missing him.

Swearing to himself, Abaden was glad to see that Tram had hit his target and the woman was down. They might have to finish her off if she didn’t die from the first shot, but they’d worry about her later. He still had work to do, and keeping his eyes on the man beside the trail, he reloaded. The stranger looked back at his woman and then turned in their direction, but Abaden almost dropped his bow in shock at the glowing white eyes staring at him. The man muttered something softly, his eyes narrowing while lifting the staff in his hands. Then there was a blur, a ripple in the air, and he was in front of Kal and his spear.

“Demon!” Kal yelled as the man with white eyes appeared in front of him. Clearly panicked and forgetting the little training he’d had, he raised his shaking spear as if the waving weapon would scare away the demon. At least the man kept the point angled towards the monster. Still, the demon knocked Kal’s spear aside seemingly with no effort, then came over with an attack across the body, and Kal’s corpse exploded backward into the forest.

Trem, standing nearby, brought his spear around while his mouth soundlessly worked as if he wanted to plead for his life but had forgotten how to talk. He took a half step back, his hands tightening around his weapon while planting his back foot. The demon moved quickly again and took two blurring strides forward. Pivoting slightly and spinning the staff around, the monster brought the heavy weapon’s iron-capped end across in a whirl of swishing air. Upon connection, there was a hollow plonk sound, and Trem’s head disappeared in a wet and bloody mess.

Recognizing the mortal danger he was in, Abaden pushed Tram out the front of the hide while jumping out the back, landing right on the other side of a large daggerbush. The plant was effectively a wall, as the leaves were razor-sharp and tough to cut through. He didn’t bother looking back after landing but kept his head down and ran into the forest. He wouldn’t go far from the trail, but hopefully far enough to escape the demon.

Back at the hide, Tram fell to the ground, his next shot forgotten as the arrow flew from his hands. He quickly stood up, drawing his dagger. The demon turned to him, still some distance away, standing over his brother Trem’s body. The last thing Tram saw in this life was the glowing white eyes.