A group approached from the road behind us. At the front rode... ah, come on. Tornhawk, sitting tall on his horse, with three men flanking him. Behind them, two horses pulled a reinforced wagon fitted with iron bars. Inside, six prisoners were crammed together, wrists bound, bodies bruised.

Ken and I stepped aside as they came to a stop.

"Well, well," Tornhawk said as he swung off his horse. "The prisoner lives."

I said nothing.

"Prisoner?" Ken glanced at me. "He talking about you?"

"Probably not," I replied.

"Get out," Tornhawk barked, moving toward the wagon.

He opened the cage and dragged the prisoners out one by one, shoving them into a rough line. Then he walked back to his saddle and pulled out several devices.

They were thick metal collars, heavy and cold-looking, etched with glowing blue runes that pulsed like veins. Small crystals were embedded at the front, humming faintly.

One by one, he snapped them around the prisoners’ necks. Each click sounded final.

The prisoners noticed me.

"That’s him!" one of them shouted. "He killed our decoy!"

"We know," Tornhawk snapped, slapping the man across the face. "You speak when I tell you to."

He stepped in front of them, arms folded behind his back.

"Now get moving," he ordered. "Fifty gold each, don’t forget."

"Fifty?" I muttered under my breath.

One by one, they turned and walked into the fog. The moment they crossed the threshold, they vanished completely, swallowed without a trace.

Tornhawk turned back to us.

"Why are you here?"

"I picked up a quest," I answered. "Someone named Mr. Menny went inside to collect something. If those prisoners see him... will they attack him?"

He let out a short laugh. "Mr. Menny? That old bastard could walk past all nine gods if he wanted. Don’t worry about him."

"Is he really that strong?" Ken asked.

"He’s a former bounty hunter," Tornhawk replied, climbing back onto his horse. "You two should worry more about his cat. Lose that, and you’ll have bigger problems than the Circle."

Ken froze.

"We got the ca—"

He stopped mid-sentence. Then he bolted back to the cart.

"ACE!" he shouted. "THE CAT IS GONE!"

"What?"

I rushed over and dropped to my knees, checking under the cart, behind the wheels, inside the chest. Nothing.

No black fur. No lazy little body. No sign it had ever been there.

"Where the hell did it go?" I muttered, scanning the darkness around us.

Ken looked like he was about to pass out. "We’re dead. We are actually dead."

Behind us, Tornhawk and his men turned their horses.

"Good luck," he called out, already riding away.

The sound of hooves faded quickly into the night. I stayed crouched there for a second longer, then dragged a hand down my face.

"Yeah," I muttered. "We’re completely screwed."

"Okay," Ken said, already out of breath like we had been sprinting for an hour instead of standing still two seconds ago. "I’ll take the right side of the forest. You take the left. Ten minutes. Then we meet back here and... reassess."

"Yeah. Sounds good."

We didn’t waste another second. He bolted right, nearly tripping over a root on his way in. I headed left, pushing through low branches and damp leaves, already calling out.

"Here, kitty... kitty... come on..."

The words felt ridiculous the moment they left my mouth.

This wasn’t some alley cat. This was the cat of a former bounty hunter who apparently could "walk past all nine gods." Of course it had to disappear into the worst possible place at the worst possible time.

I moved deeper into the trees, brushing past wet branches that slapped against my arms. The ground was uneven, roots twisting out of the soil like traps waiting to snap an ankle. Every few steps, I stopped and listened.

Nothing.

"Come on... don’t do this to me," I muttered.

I checked behind thick bushes, crouched to peer under fallen logs, even kicked aside a pile of leaves that turned out to be nothing but dirt and bugs. At one point I thought I saw movement, only to realize it was just a bird flapping away from me like I had personally offended it.

"Great," I said under my breath. "Even the birds hate me now."

I walked farther out, closer to where the trees thinned slightly. There was a narrow dip in the ground, like a shallow ditch where rainwater had carved a path. I followed it for a bit, thinking maybe the cat had wandered down for water.

"Hey," I called again, softer this time. "We’re not gonna hurt you. We’re trying to not get murdered, actually, so if you could help with that..."

Silence.

I crouched again and pressed a hand to the ground. Still damp, but no clear paw prints. Either the cat was lighter than it looked, or it just didn’t feel like leaving evidence like a normal animal.

Of course it didn’t.

"Smart cat," I muttered. "Too smart."

I stood back up and rubbed the back of my neck, scanning the trees one last time. Ten minutes had to be up by now. No point wandering off and getting lost on top of everything else.

I turned and made my way back, pushing through branches again, stepping over the same roots, mentally preparing myself for Ken’s reaction.

When I reached the clearing, Ken was already there.

He looked worse than me.

He stumbled out of the trees, then immediately dropped to his knees in the dirt like his legs had given up on life.

"Ace... man..." he said, eyes wide, breathing heavy. "Where’s the carriage?"

I blinked.

Then I turned.

Then I blinked again.

I slapped my palm against my forehead.

"Oh, fuck me sideways."

It was gone.

Not moved a little. Not slightly off. Gone. Completely gone. The horses, the cart, everything. Just empty ground where it had been.

For a few seconds, neither of us said anything.

Then Ken slowly turned his head toward me.

"No... no, no, no..." he whispered. "We lost the cat... and now we lost the entire carriage?"

"Yeah," I said flatly. "We upgraded the problem."

"This guy is going to kill us," Ken said. "He’s actually going to skin us alive."

"Yeah..."

Ken let out a weak, broken laugh that sounded more like a cry. "We’re dead."

"Probably."

He suddenly leaned forward, squinting at the ground. "Wait. Wait, wait. Look."

I crouched beside him.

There they were. Tire marks. The ones from when we arrived... and another set, fresher, cutting over them.

Other than Tornhawk and his men, of course. This tire marks had the same depth as the old man’s.

"So someone came here," Ken said slowly. "Took the carriage... and just left?"

"Looks like it."

I followed the tracks with my eyes. They were deep enough to show the weight. Whoever took it wasn’t moving fast.

"Good news," I said. "They’re not running."

Ken looked at me like I had just told him we won the lottery.

"That’s good news?"

"It means we can catch them."

He stared at the tracks, then back at me, then nodded like a man who had no other option.

"Alright," he said, pushing himself up. "Let’s go before we somehow lose the ground too."

"Yeah," I muttered, already stepping forward. "At this rate, I wouldn’t even be surprised."