The river wasn't loud.
That was the problem.
It stretched wide across their path, dark water sliding over stone with barely a sound, like it didn't want to be noticed. Mist clung low to the surface, blurring the far bank until it felt farther away than it was.
Aiden stopped at the edge.
She followed his gaze. "We can't go around."
"No," Aiden said. "And we can't rush it."
They weren't alone.
Others had reached the river before them—eight people clustered along the bank, arguing in low voices. Some wanted to cross together. Others insisted on waiting. A few stared silently at the water, like they were listening to something beneath it.
Aiden crouched, dipping his fingers into the current.
Cold. Fast.
Stronger than it looked.
"Step only where the stone breaks the surface," he said quietly. "And don't trust anything that looks smooth."
She nodded.
They waited until the arguing group started first.
It didn't take long for something to go wrong.
Halfway across, one of the men slipped. Just a little—barely enough to draw attention. His foot skidded on wet stone, balance shifting for a heartbeat too long.
The water reacted.
The surface rippled sharply, not outward, but inward, as if something beneath it had turned.
"Hold—" someone shouted.
Too late.
The man's leg vanished under the surface.
He screamed as the current yanked him sideways, dragging him off the stone and into deeper water. Arms flailed. Fingers clawed at nothing.
Two people lunged to grab him.
Bad move.
The water surged violently, pulling harder now, bodies colliding as panic took over. Aiden saw flashes beneath the surface—long shapes, moving together.
Not chasing.
Waiting.
"Back!" Aiden shouted. "Let go!"
One of them listened.
The other didn't.
There was a sharp splash, then a choking cry as the man was dragged under completely. The water swallowed him whole, surface smoothing over as if he'd never been there.
Silence followed.
The remaining group staggered back onto the bank, soaked and shaking. No blood. No sign of what had taken him.
Just ripples fading into calm.
Someone whispered, "The river moved."
Aiden didn't answer.
He'd seen it too.
They crossed farther upstream, where the stones broke the surface unevenly and the mist thinned. Aiden went first, testing each step with deliberate pressure before shifting his weight.
Halfway across, the current shifted again.
Subtle.
Intentional.
She slipped.
Her foot slid off the stone, body tilting sideways toward the water. Aiden reached for her—
—but she twisted mid-fall.
Not fast.
Not frantic.
Just enough.
Her foot landed on a narrow ridge of stone she hadn't been looking at. Her body corrected itself in one smooth motion, balance returning instantly.
Too instantly.
They froze.
The water stilled beneath her, like it had lost interest.
She stared down at her feet, breath shallow. "I didn't see that."
"You didn't need to," Aiden said.
They finished crossing without another incident.
On the far bank, she sat heavily on the stone, hands braced behind her, staring out at the river.
"That shouldn't have worked," she said quietly.
Aiden watched the water for a long moment before answering. "No."
A weight pressed lightly against his chest again.
Not fear.
Awareness.
Like something had leaned closer.
They moved away from the river quickly.
Too many people stayed behind, arguing, staring, trying to convince themselves the crossing was still safe.
By the time the land rose and the mist thinned, the screams had stopped.
That was worse than hearing them.
They didn't talk until they reached higher ground, where the stone was dry and the wind returned.
She broke the silence first. "Do you think people like us… survive longer?"
Aiden considered the question carefully.
"I think people who hesitate die first," he said. "And people who rush die right after."
She let out a weak laugh. "That's reassuring."
He almost smiled.
They stopped near a ridge overlooking the land beyond the river. From here, they could see the terrain spreading outward—grasslands breaking into rock, distant shadows hinting at forests or ruins farther away.
Routes.
Choices.
Aiden crouched, tracing a path in the dirt with his finger.
"We don't follow the main routes," he said. "They're watched."
"By what?"
Aiden stood slowly. "Everything."
She nodded like that made sense.
As they turned away from the ridge, the river behind them shifted once more—quiet, deliberate.
Something beneath the surface moved on.
And somewhere deeper still, something listened.
End of Chapter 10