The village appeared on the third day like a corpse half-buried in snow.
Gabriel and Tess stood at the forest's edge, studying Millren's Rest from a distance. Twenty buildings, maybe thirty at most, clustered in a valley surrounded by bare trees. Smoke should have risen from chimneys. Movement should have filled the streets.
Nothing stirred.
"They're here," Gabriel said quietly.
Tess nocked an arrow but didn't draw. "How do you know?"
"I can feel them." Gabriel's hand moved to his sword hilt. The same instinct that had warned him about vampires, about the Crawfiend Queen. "They're waiting."
The approach was slow. They moved from tree to tree, watching the buildings for any sign of movement. Gabriel's danger sense prickled constantly, not pointing to any specific threat but confirming the village wasn't empty.
Greyscale tracks marked the snow. Dozens of them, human-shaped but wrong. The gait too wide, the depth uneven like the walkers no longer cared about balance.
