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She slid out of the saddle and listened for the others, and when she heard nothing, she looked at the forest floor, and began following the hoof prints she found here and there.

The rest of the group had been going fast, and where the ground was damp, the horses’ hooves were clearly visible.

She felt a little frisson of relief at the sight of them, and with the relief came a spike of anger. If she had held them up, they would have to accept some of the blame for leaving her so far behind.

It was actually wonderful to be out of the saddle, stretching her legs in a gentle walk. The breeze lifted her hair off her face and she breathed in the spicy scent of pine. When sheremembered she needed to be watching for hoof prints, she forced herself to look down and concentrate, and found there were none.

She had lost the path.

She stopped, closing her eyes again to listen carefully.

The leaves above her head rustled, and she could hear a bird calling the same two notes over and over, to her left. Behind her, something small scurried over dead leaves.

With a shiver of branches, the wind changed direction again, and as she opened her eyes, darkness seemed to fall all at once. She’d seen the hill rising above the forest as she’d approached, so it made sense that the sun had slipped behind it, and thrown the trees into shadow.

It was later than she’d thought. Surely the others would have realized by now that she was not behind them.

As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she noticed tiny sparkles of light drifting all around her, dancing on the breeze likes sparks from a fire.

She frowned at the sight of them, trying to work out what they were.

The sun was gone, so this wasn’t light on dust.

She held out her hand and two sparkles landed on her palm.

Magic.

She ran a fingertip over the tiny lights, and was enveloped in confusion.

She gasped as the ring on her finger suddenly burned her, and she flicked the sparks away. She leaned against her horse until she felt less disoriented. The ring still itched, but it no longer hurt her.

A trap.

This was a trap, set to confuse.

She wondered where it originated, and then watched as a sparkle rode the air currents toward her, and landed on hersleeve. She hadn’t seen the sparkles before it got dark—the light through the trees had made it too difficult—but given the feeling of disorientation she’d felt when they’d touched her skin, she wondered what their effect was if they were breathed in.

Not good, was her guess.

She untied her pack and found the handkerchief with protection embroidered into it. It might not be made for her, but it would work to keep the sparkles out if she tied it over her mouth and nose. She pulled on some gloves.

Feeling less nervous, she walked forward, watching the sparkles and trying to discern a direction. They seemed to be floating from east to west, using the wind, and she took the next path eastward, until she heard the faint tinkle of a stream.

Her horse snorted, and she stroked its neck. “I know. I’m thirsty, too.”

She found the stream and filled her water bottle, letting her horse drink.

The sparkles were more obvious here, where the trees drew denser around the water source, and the shadows were darker.

There were also more of them in the air—they looked like clouds of midges—and she left the horse to graze and jumped the narrow stream, heading toward their source.

She wondered how affected the others had been by the magic, and whether the man they were after had already captured them.

She’d gotten lost. Maybe they had, too.

She pushed her way through two trees whose trunks crossed above her head, and found a small, open space, not even big enough to call a clearing, with an open box on the ground.

There were leaves and debris around it, piled up on all sides as if they weren’t able to fall into the box itself, and the tiny lights spiraled up from within like sparks from a fire, swirling in the breeze and dancing away in the darkness.