THE HUNT

"WHERE RATS HIDE" The Red Cliffs were red for a reason. Blood. Three days after the palace burned, Lian stood at the edge. The wind tried to push her off. It screamed. She didn’t move. Below, the cliff dropped 1000 feet into black water. And in the stone, a circle. Glowing purple. Pulsing. Like a heart. Like something breathing. “Don’t touch it,” Caelan said behind her. Lian didn’t turn. “I’m not going to.” “Lysandra was here,” General Varek reported. His voice was rough. “Two days ago. She had 12 men. Only 3 left alive. The rest...” He didn’t finish. They didn’t need to. The snow was stained. Not with blood. With something darker. Thicker. It smelled like rot and magic. “The Abyss,” Lian whispered. Caelan came to stand beside her. “We should destroy it. Now.” Lian shook her head. “No. If we break it wrong, it opens wider. We need to find her first. Find out what she learned.” She turned from the cliff. Her cloak snapped behind her. “The hunt starts now.” --- The army made camp at the base of the cliffs. Torches burned all night. No one slept. Lian didn’t either. She sat in the command tent. Maps everywhere. Reports everywhere. Names. Names of the people who hurt her. Names of the villages Lysandra passed. She crossed them off. One by one. Caelan came in with tea. It was cold. “You haven’t eaten,” he said. Lian didn’t look up. “Not hungry.” He set the cup down. “Aurelia.” She finally looked at him. Her eyes were gold. Tired. Dark circles under them. “She’s trying to open the gate again,” Lian said. “That circle. It’s a key. A test.” Caelan’s jaw tightened. “We’ll stop her.” “How? She’s already 2 steps ahead. She knows where I’m going before I do.” “Then we run faster.” Lian stood. Walked to the map. Red pins everywhere. South. East. Border. “She’s not running away,” Lian said. “She’s leading me somewhere.” Caelan didn’t answer. --- The first trail was in the south. A village. Burned. Not by dragon fire. By human hands. Bodies in the snow. Women. Children. Old men. Frozen. Some were still holding each other. And on the wall of the temple, written in blood: `SHE’S A MONSTER` Lian stared at it. A mother was still holding her child. Both frozen. The child’s doll was in the snow. Caelan put a cloak over Lian’s shoulders. “She’s running,” he said. “And she’s scared.” Lian touched the blood. It was still wet. “Scared people don’t do this,” she said. Her voice was flat. “Desperate people do. Angry people do.” A soldier retched. Lian turned to her soldiers. “Bury them. Give them names. Carve them in stone. And burn this place. So no one has to see it again.” As the fire rose, Lian didn’t look away. She memorized every face. --- The second trail was at the border. A monastery. Monks dead. All of them. Sitting in a circle. Eyes open. Mouths open. Like they saw something they couldn’t understand. And one survivor. An old priest. He was shaking when they brought him to Lian. Wrapped in blankets. “Second Empress was here,” he whispered. “Three nights. She asked about the Abyss. About how to close a gate. About how to control what’s inside. About blood.” Lian’s blood went cold. “The Abyss,” Caelan repeated. Lysandra wasn’t trying to hide. She was trying to bring something back. Something worse than herself. “What did you tell her?” Lian asked. Gentle. The priest cried. “Nothing. I don’t know anything. But she... she cut one of the brothers. And the blood... it made the circle glow. She laughed. She said ‘It’s hungry.’” Lian stood. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re safe now.” Outside, she told Varek: “Double the patrols. Burn every village she passes. And tell the dragons— start flying at night. I want to see her shadow. I want to see where she sleeps.” That night Lian dreamed of the Abyss. Of hands. Of whispers. She woke up screaming. Caelan was already there. Holding her. --- The third trail was the worst. A cave. Deep in the mountains. Torches still burning. And chains. Dozens of them. All sized for a woman. All stained. In the center, a circle. Drawn in salt and ash and blood. Still wet. And in the middle of the circle— A piece of cloth. Black. With gold embroidery. Lian’s old dress. From three years ago. From the day they threw her in. Lian picked it up. Her hands didn’t shake. “She kept it,” Lian whispered. “All this time. In a box. In the dark.” Caelan’s jaw tightened. “She’s obsessed.” “No,” Lian said. She stood. The fabric burned in her hand. Turned to gold ash. “She’s desperate.” She turned to her general. “Set fire to the cave. Burn everything. And send word to every city. Lysandra is not to be captured. She is to be brought to me. Alive. In chains.” As they left, Lian looked back once. The cave collapsed behind them. --- That night, Lian couldn’t sleep. She stood at the window of the tent. Snow falling. The camp was quiet. Too quiet. Caelan came in without knocking. “You didn’t eat,” he said. Lian didn’t turn. “I’m not hungry.” He came closer. Stood behind her. “She’s not the problem,” he said quietly. “The Abyss is.” Lian closed her eyes. “I know.” Three years ago she fell into it. She saw what was down there. Things without names. Things with too many teeth. Things that wanted out. That remembered her. And Lysandra was knocking on that door. “If she opens it,” Caelan said. “We both die. The kingdom dies.” Lian turned. Faced him. “Then we don’t let her.” For a second, neither of them spoke. Then Caelan reached out. Brushed his thumb over her cheek. “You’re not the girl I lost,” he said. “You’re worse.” Lian almost smiled. “Good.” She stepped closer. “I’m not afraid anymore.” “Neither am I,” he said. “Not with you.” Outside, a dragon screamed. A scout. Running. Out of breath. “Your Majesty!” “We found her! At the Red Cliffs! She’s— she’s opened it halfway! The circle is 10 feet wide now!” Lian was already moving. Crown on. Sword at her hip. Armor on. Gold running under her skin. “Get the dragons,” she ordered. Caelan was already at the door. “It ends tonight,” he said. Lian nodded. The hunt was over. Now came the kill. They rode through the night. Snow. Wind. Ash. The dragons above them lit the sky. Five shadows. When they reached the cliffs, the circle was bigger. And in the middle of it— Lysandra. Hair white. Eyes black. Veins black under her skin. Dress torn. Smiling. “I knew you’d come,” she said. Her voice echoed. “I waited.” Behind her, the ground cracked. And from the cracks, hands came out. Pale. Too many fingers. Then heads. Then screams. The Abyss was waking up. Lian drew her sword. It caught fire. Gold fire. “It ends here,” Lian said. Lysandra laughed. It wasn’t human. “No, sister. It begins.” The ground shook. The sky split. And the hunt became a war.