7. Owen

"They are here…"

When Owen woke to the sound of the voice of the shadow man, he jumped up and looked around for the spirit, but he saw only the faint sleeping forms of his companions. Then he heard snarling, followed by a growl. He looked around in the early dawn light, seeing only the outline of Colt beside him and the swaying grass before him. When the breeze blew in, he shivered.

Realizing they had all fallen asleep in the night, Owen sat up in panic, waking Colt.

"Owen, what's wrong?" came Colt's groggy voice.

"Clove?" Owen got to his feet and looked around. The wolf barked nearby, baring her teeth. At first, Owen thought she might attack them, but she was looking down the path.

Owen followed Clove's gaze, seeing the other travelers, Sohan and Torin, wake from their pallets with a gasp, clamoring up as they stepped back from the wolf.

"What's going on?" Gilda started, sitting up from the ground. "Why is that wolf barking?"

At first, Owen thought Clove saw Sohan and Torin as a threat, but then it hit him. Something nearing from the west, looking for them. It didn't feel like Elian, but someone was coming, and quickly.

"We have to go," Owen said, just as Colt came up beside him. "We have to go, now."

There were no questions asked, only the scuffle of boots as they all scurried to grab their bags and leave. When Clove cut off the road to run away from the danger, Owen followed after her as best as he could in the darkness, and his companions were right on his heels. In the distance, hooves thundered on the ground, and when Owen looked back, he saw a few men approaching on horseback in the distance.

They ran until they came to a path that wound into the trees, where they hid behind the trunks. Owen's breath caught when he glanced out from behind one and saw three soldiers approaching. One of them pointed at Clove, who snarled at them, and one of the soldiers kicked his foot out to make her leave. But the wolf seemed to distract them from entering into the forest, and a moment later, they turned and rode along the path south.

Owen pulled his green scarf around him and looked ahead through the trees. They waited a few minutes before there was no more sign of the soldiers. "Looks like we'll have to navigate through the woods to Pitchvale."

"I'm not sure I can keep running like this with all our baggage." Gilda huffed into the icy air. The sky was brightening, which would work in their favor, but also against them, as they could easily be seen in the daylight.

"Those soldiers were looking for us," Brom said. "I think the wolf scared them off."

"Yeah, we all saw," Colt remarked, and Brom screwed his face up.

"Let's keep going," Owen said, and led them forward.

Half an hour later, they emerged from the trees, and Clove found them. Her tail wagged, and she made a playful noise in her throat, which meant the threat was gone. As the sun rose over the grassy fields, they stopped to rest around some boulders against the tree line.

Owen gulped the water from his waterskin, closing his eyes against the pulsing heat in his temples. Beside him, Clove stared at him with her tongue out, panting heavily.

"Brom, can I borrow your pot?" he asked.

Hesitantly, Brom pulled out the small pot they boiled water in and gave it to him.

When Owen poured some of his water into it and placed it before Clove, Brom groaned as the wolf lapped it up.

"We drink out of that too, you know," Brom said.

"She's thirsty," Owen half-laughed. "And she saved us."

"At least we think so."

"We know so, you fool," Gilda growled. "But it also gives us insight into what's going on. Word of us has spread out here already, so we need to be much more careful now. We may even need to disguise ourselves better."

Colt crossed his arms. "And how will we do that? All shave our heads? Wear dresses?"

"Let's just get to Pitchvale first," Gilda said. "Once we get there, we'll figure out our ensembles."

They continued on, Brom carefully picking up his pot as Clove moved away from it. Owen scratched behind her soft ear. "Good girl," he said. "Thank you for waking us this morning."

"Guess she's good enough to have around after all," Colt said, walking quickly beside him.

"I suppose that means we can keep her."

Colt raised an eyebrow, then laughed. "If she sticks around, why not?"

The sunlight hit their faces, and Owen glanced up at Colt and smiled as he took in the greens and browns of his eyes in the early orange haze. Clove stayed within their sight as the morning waned. Around noon, they stopped to rest, and Owen went with Colt behind the trees nearby to relieve themselves.

On their way back, Owen saw something dark dart behind a tree. His heart pounded, and he stopped, listening, waiting. Then he heard a familiar voice calling out to him.

"Owen…"

The hairs on the back of Owen's neck raised, and he looked behind him to find the hooded shadowy figure standing among the trees. It stared at him, floating, with black wisps curling around its robe and arms before disappearing into the air.

"What's wrong?" Colt asked, his eyes full of concern.

Owen took a few steps forward, mesmerized by the spirit.

Then Colt grabbed his hand, stopping him. "Owen?"

Squeezing Colt's hand, Owen said, "You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?"

"There, between the trees." Owen looked back to see the hooded figure still there. "It"s the shadow man."

Colt glanced in the direction Owen pointed, but he shook his head. "I don't see anything, Owen."

A chill sputtered up Owen's arms. He tugged Colt forward. "Please come with me? I want to speak to it."

At first, Colt opened his mouth, and Owen thought he might protest, but instead, he nodded and went along with him, letting Owen lead the way. Owen stopped several feet before the hooded spirit hovering above the ground.

The air grew colder, and Owen shivered as his senses heightened. He could feel the fibers of the fabric in his clothes brushing against his sensitive skin, and he could taste the dust floating in the air.

"Owen, you must not be afraid of me," the shadow said. "It's difficult to talk through this form, and I cannot stay long."

Owen hesitated as he kept his eyes on the spirit. Its voice was hard to differentiate. It sounded like both a man and a woman. "What do you want?"

"I have watched you for a long time. When you departed Emberton, I followed to ensure your safety. I am aware your uncle has been captured. I wish to take his place to aid you through Avathon."

Owen fixed his eyes on the figure's face, searching for eyes, but there was only hollow blackness. "Someone is supposed to take us along the Silent Road."

"Then I will follow along in case your journey turns dire."

"Why would you do that? I don't even know what you are."

"I am a spirit in the Unseen Vale. I can reside within the spirits of this world only briefly. I want to tell you more… but already, my energy is withering. Watch for my spirit…"

The entity suddenly faded, and Owen was once again aware of his surroundings. When he still felt Colt's hand in his, he looked back to find his companion's brows knitted in concern.

"Well?" Colt started. "What did it say?"

"You didn't hear it speak to me?" Owen asked.

"I only heard you talking to it."

"It said it's from the Unseen Vale. That it can inhabit spirits in our world briefly. It wants to help guide me through Avathon if things go dire."

Colt glanced away, hesitating, and Owen's shoulders shrank.

"You think I'm mad."

"No, I don't. It's just…" Colt looked at Owen seriously, his eyes softening. "It's not trying to hurt you, is it?"

Owen's heart skipped a beat. He straightened his back, and his lips twitched. "I don't think so. Look, I know I don't know everything, but this spirit… doesn't feel like a threat to us."

"Are you sure about that?" Colt looked away and shook his head. "You were bothered by it in Milarc. Now you're not, and suddenly you're talking to it?"

Owen narrowed his eyes, his fists curling in frustration.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm trying to look out for you."

"I'll look at you how I want. Forget it." Owen turned away before Colt could say more. He was too angry, and now he felt foolish.

"Owen," Colt called, but Owen kept walking, staring ahead at the field in the distance, where Gilda and Brom stood waiting, until he felt Colt"s hand on his arm.

Owen jerked it away, but Colt seemed insistent.

"That came out wrong," Colt told him.

"Then how did you mean it?" Owen stopped but didn't look at him. "You might as well call me an imbecile for speaking to it."

"I know you're not. I just want to know that this thing's not going to hurt you, because I wouldn't be able to handle it if something happened to you."

Letting out a breath, Owen relaxed, feeling flattered by his affectionate words, but he had to stand his ground. "I'm the scout. I make the decisions regarding these things. This thing isn't a threat."

Colt hesitated a moment and finally nodded, but Owen still felt the uncertainty and doubt there. "I know. I'm just… worried."

Glancing up, Owen met Colt's eyes in the sunlight, and his heart surged. "I'll be careful about this, Colt. I promise."

They gazed at each other for a long moment before Colt nodded and smiled. Then he said, "Alright, Owen. I trust you." He gestured his hand out for Owen to lead them forward.

They made their way out from the trees and joined Gilda and Brom, then continued their journey south. After a few hours, they came to a stone bridge. Tall pines stood like sentinels on one side, and on the other, the land stretched into the distance. A clear swift stream passed beneath the stone bridge, flowing through waist high grasses into a nearby lake. Beyond the water, a wild oak sat with nearly all its autumn leaves gone. The sight took Owen's breath away.

They had reached Pitchvale.

"How will we find Thomas?" Brom asked, his voice low.

Coming out of his stupor, Owen looked over at him. "I don't know. Should we ask around?"

"No, let's head to the inn and ask there."

As they made their way toward the dirt path that led into the village, Clove ran off, and Owen's chest fell.

It's probably for the best. She may scare folks.

They made their way to The Roost Hook Inn. Inside, warm air welcomed them. A few patrons were sitting at the tables, eating and talking, and Owen wondered if they all stuck out like sore thumbs when everyone looked their way.

"Welcome," a man called. "What can I do for you?"

To Owen's surprise, Gilda stepped forward and nodded at the man, who had a bushy gray mustache and gray hair parted down the middle of his head. He held a pipe in his hand and puffed generously from it.

"We're looking for a man named Thomas," she started. "Do you know him?"

The man smiled and nodded. "That's my name. What do you need?"

Owen's mouth dropped open, but no words escaped him. He wasn't sure how to tell this man that they had been traveling for over a month just to get here and meet with him. That their whole journey had started with the promise of coming to Pitchvale and asking for his help to travel on the Silent Road.

"We heard you have friends in quiet places," Colt said, propping his arm up on the counter. "Think you could help us?"

Thomas narrowed his eyes, then he looked at Owen. "Are you Amias's nephew?" When Owen nodded, Thomas cracked out a nervous sounding laugh. "By the gods, you made it after all. Where is the old fart?" Thomas came around the bar to greet him.

"He's not here," Owen said, frowning.

Thomas stopped in his tracks and furrowed his brow. He peered around at Brom, who lingered by the door, then looked back at them. "Where is he?"

"We should talk elsewhere," Colt said.

The look in Thomas's eyes seemed to change, but bilious clouds of pipe smoke swirling out from the man's pipe made it hard for Owen to sense his energy. It seemed to be airy, something light, like a feather, making it hard to grasp.

The man smiled and nodded at them. "Right this way. I'm sure I can find you all a room that fits your tastes." He led them to a back room, out of sight and earshot from his other patrons. Inside, a young girl with blonde pigtails sat at a table, writing out letters on a piece of paper.

"Holly, why don't you run along?" Thomas said. "I've got a few folks I need to talk to."

The girl nodded and gathered up her papers before leaving the room.

"My granddaughter," Thomas said, smiling. "I've got four already."

Owen wasn't sure what to say to him, so he only smiled and nodded as Thomas picked up a teapot from the table and poured them all a cup.

Owen let his bag down on the floor but continued to stand, as did his companions. His thoughts swirled around his uncle. Amias was the last remaining link to his mother, and she had been gone for more than a decade. He was the very reason they were in Avathon now, running from the Legion. All for the treason Amias had committed against a scholar in Alacor.

But how long before a Wielder discovers I'm Astran? It's only a matter of time. No, this is all my fault. If it wasn't for me, Amias would have never murdered someone, and he wouldn't be in the Legion's custody.

This realization fell over him so heavily that Owen's shoulders sank, and he looked at his cup somberly.

"I'm glad you've finally arrived," Thomas told Owen. "Though I have to say, I was only expecting you and Amias, and now you've got three others with you, minus Amias." He chuckled.

"Amias… was captured," Owen said, staring hard at his black tea.

"Captured?" Thomas's brow darkened.

"By Wielders," Colt added.

The whole room went quiet. Owen eyed Gilda, who drank quietly from her cup, and then at Brom, who stood looking out the window, alert. Colt stood beside Owen, his face puckering after he took a gulp of his tea.

"He was captured, but you came on here anyway," Thomas stated.

"Yes. It's been a long journey." Owen nodded.

"Hmm." The man rubbed at the prickly gray hairs on his neck. "Amias told me in his letter that he planned for you and him to lay low here for a while before traveling along the Silent Road. I had a room set aside for two. Accommodating four will make things a little difficult."

"We don't have time to lay low," Colt said, sighing as he placed his cup on the table. "We've got Wielders on our trail. After they captured Amias, they came after us and haven't stopped."

"Well, that certainly changes things… Do they know where you are?"

"We woke up this morning to regional soldiers nearby," Brom cut in.

Thomas's eyes widened. He rushed to the window and peered out. "Then you'll need to keep moving. If Wielders captured Amias, more than likely, they've gotten him to squeal about where you're going."

"Amias wouldn't do that," Owen said, his voice coming out harsher than he intended. He rubbed his aching head. At least, he hoped Amias wouldn't give up their location. No, he was certain that if his uncle had done so much to hide him, the last thing he'd do was give Owen up. "He's sacrificed so much to protect me. I know him better."

"I'm sorry, truly." Thomas smiled sadly at him. "I've known Amias for over thirty years. He's a good man." He cleared his throat and stepped toward the door. "Listen, I have an underground shelter with two rooms. I'll take you down there while I meet with the guide who will take you along the Silent Road."

They all looked at each other, as if it was hitting them for the first time. It was really happening. They had found the Silent Road. This path would hopefully take them to a safer destination away from the Legion.

Thomas led them out of the room and down to a storage area packed with shelves of food sacks and jars. He bent down and removed a dirty rug to reveal a trapdoor.

Excitement flooded Owen's mind as Thomas opened the door, revealing a dark, secret room below. Until now, he hadn't considered what it would mean to travel along the Silent Road. Where would they end up? Perhaps on the East Coast to travel to a secret island, or would they have to hide in underground rooms like this for the rest of their lives? Perhaps they would become cave dwellers.

After lighting a candle, Thomas led them down a narrow hallway to two rooms adjacent to one another. The innkeeper opened one of the doors and stepped inside. He lit several candles around the rooms before he met back in the hall with them.

"It's safe down here for now," he said, "but if Wielders are on your trail, they could possibly find this. I don't want that to happen, so expect to leave tonight. I'll keep on alert, but for the time being, rest up. I'll bring you some food in a bit."

They all nodded and watched Thomas go. When the trapdoor closed, Gilda sighed and looked over at Owen.

"Might as well get some rest while we can. I'm assuming you two are taking that room?" She nodded at the other door.

"Yep. Goodnight." Colt pulled Owen into the room and shut the door before Gilda or Brom could say anything else.

Owen blinked up at Colt and let out a breath. "What was that about?"

"What?" Colt shrugged. "Was just making sure we both got this room before they started arguing about who they'd rather camp with."

Smiling, Owen came to one of the two beds and sat on it while Colt set down his bag and rummaged through it.

"Hungry?" Colt asked.

"No." Owen pulled off his boots and laid back on the bed with a sigh. "My head hurts. I just want to sleep."

After taking off his boots, Colt laid down beside him and threw their blankets over them both, and Owen rolled onto his side until the both of them molded into one another. Neither of them spoke, as they were too tired, and within minutes, Owen felt sleep pulling him under.