Exiles

«They urged their horses back onto the road, the oppressive silence around them seeming to deepen. It was then that Terry heard it-a sharp cry that sliced through the air.

An owl. Or so it seemed at first.

But as the sound faded, Terry's blood turned cold. It wasn't the call of any bird he'd ever heard. It was too deliberate, too measured. As though a man had imitated an owl with cruel precision.

Elliot glanced at him, his pale eyes wide. "Did you hear that?"

Terry's hand dropped instinctively to the hilt of his knife. He scanned the tree line, every shadow suddenly alive with menace.

"Yes," he said grimly. "And I don't like it."

They urged their horses into a faster trot, the road stretching endlessly before them. Terry's heart hammered in his chest as he fought the urge to look over his shoulder. Whatever-or whoever-had made that sound, he knew they weren't alone.»