The Iron Seer

Chapter 8 - Hunting Shadows

When the sun rose, we rose with it, setting out into the pale, misty morning, leaving the horses and the safety of the cave behind.

I didn't know exactly what Ash had planned for me until he stopped suddenly by a pond, its water untouched by the ice. Ancient trees stood hunched on the banks, branches drooping out over the water, their dark needles floating over its glassy, gleaming sapphire surface, which reflected the forest like a mirror.

"What do you notice about this place?" Ash asked me, leaning against the thick trunk of one of the trees.

Frowning, I glanced around. There was a lot to notice; I guessed there must be a particular detail he wanted me to find. He wanted to teach me how to hunt, and it seemed like a good idea; as of right now, I knew absolutely nothing about the subject. The more I learned from him, the sooner I would be ready to face the ice wyrm.

With determination in my heart, I swept the scene around me again with a keen eye. Snow was fresh on the ground, and the bank of the pond was covered in the white, fluffy powder. The steep slopes on either side of the pool came together to form a gulch around us.

There was no reason why I couldn't change my vantage point, so I slowly made my way down to the water.

I didn't notice it until I was standing on the bank, and it was right at my feet.

A set of tracks, leading out of the pond. They were rounded, with a triangular groove at the hind part of each print.

I recognized these. Though Wind's hooves never touched the ground, I knew the shape they would make in the snow if they ever did.

Horse prints.

Leading out of the water.

"A kelpie," I said, naming the species of solitary water horses that lived in faery ponds. Glancing back at Ash, who stood there, watching me, I was amazed that he had spotted them so easily. Then again, I couldn't believe that I hadn't spotted them earlier. They seemed so obvious.

Ash didn't say anything or move a muscle, and the message was clear. He wanted me to keep going.

Feeling encouraged by his presence, and the knowledge that he was letting me do this myself - which was even more liberating than I thought it would be, after all the years of servants and rules - I fell into step beside the kelpie tracks, following them along the bank.

They curved uphill, into the woods, and I followed them, winding through the trees, my eyes intent on the ground. When I reached a log fallen across their path, I clambered up over it and landed on the other side.

What I found there was this: the prints faltered abruptly, as if the kelpie had stumbled a few steps after its landing.

"Ash?" I asked, turning back to find him directly behind me. It didn't surprise me how silent he was in the forest. Like a ghost.

He took in the scene, and, after trailing the footprints for a few lengths, pointed at the prints left in the snow after the stumble. The pattern had changed; the tracks were spaced closer together, and the snow around them was more disturbed, as if it had been kicked up more by these footfalls than by the ones previous. "It was running," Ash said.

"Why would a kelpie run?" I asked. Kelpies were predators to be feared, not prey to be hunted. At least, not by most of the forest's residents. But I could think of a few that the kelpie might be afraid of.

"An ice wyrm?" I suggested, excitement bubbling in my veins. This could be it. If we could follow the kelpie prints, if they led us to the wyrm....