The path narrowed.
Yara pressed her body against the jagged cliffside as the wind howled around her, sending tendrils of dark hair into her face. She brushed them back with a trembling hand, muscles sore from too many days without rest. Below her, the rocks jutted like ancient teeth, and beyond that—miles of black forest. Above, the moon carved silver lines into the world, and for a moment she could almost believe she wasn't alone.
But she was.
Every step downward was a gamble. Her boots skidded on loose shale, ankles twisting against the slope's stubborn refusal to give her ease. Each breath came shallow and measured. Too loud, and she might alert something.
Almost there, she told herself.
