Chapter 211: Dare to Dream

Each step toward the central mound had Jane ’s blood roaring. The darkness between the stained, ancient stones grew, swirling. It was colder, too. Cold and dry.

She wouldn’t stop, not with Vincent still watching, not when she had so much to do. She didn’t dare look too long toward the open doorway and the thing lurking beyond. A lingering shred of pride—stupid, mortal pride— kept her from bolting through the rest of the field. Running, she remembered, only attracted some predators. So she kept her steps slow and called on every bit of training she’d had, even as the wight slunk closer to the threshold, no more than a ripple of ravenous hunger encased in rags.

Yet the wight remained within its mound, even as she came near enough to drag into the barrow, as if it were … hesitating.

She was just passing the barrow when a pulsing, stale bit of air pushed against her ears. Maybe running was a good idea. If Swords was the only weapon against wights, then her hands would be useless. Still