Dawn found the two girls perched in a tree whose broad branches formed a natural bed. The leaves above them trembled in a light breeze, birds trilling high in the canopy. Huddled close together, Xue and Minzhu dozed as the sun slowly pushed the darkness from the sky. All night they hadn’t closed their eyes, listening to every rustle in the undergrowth, fearing wild beasts or people. Only with the coming of dawn, when the outlines of the world grew clear, did they allow themselves a little sleep.

  When the sun rose higher and its rays slid across the sisters’ faces, as if deliberately trying to wake them, Xue and Minzhu frowned in protest and opened their eyes. Rubbing their chilled hands together, they climbed down from the tree. For a few moments they stood still, looking around, and when they noticed nothing suspicious, they relaxed. Mist drifted low over the ground, leaving silvery drops on the grass, but the clear sky promised a hot, sunny day.

  “No signs of people,” Xue exhaled in relief, rubbing her sleepy eyes. “Looks like we managed to get away from them.”

  “Yeah,” Minzhu yawned. “They’re slow and clumsy. They’ll never catch us.”

  “Don’t brag,” the older sister frowned. “Adults are cunning and strong. Stay alert!”

  “We always have to run away, even though we’ve gotten stronger,” the younger one complained. “That’s not fair!”

  “That lame man is dangerous! There’s something wrong with him…”

  “But Dad gave us daggers! We should defend ourselves!”

  “Then you’d have to hurt people,” Xue said quietly. “Are you ready for that?”

  “I don’t know,” the younger girl sighed thoughtfully. “When I remember how that beggar screamed… and the blood from the wound on his leg, I feel sick. But for you, I’m ready to do it again!”

  “I don’t like it when anyone hurts Minzhu either!” Xue hugged her sister. “Don’t worry, you were protecting me! It’s their own fault!”

  “Yes! They’re bad people! I’ll never forgive them!” The girl clenched her little fists bravely.

  “Good. We’ll train! We won’t let anyone hurt us! But until we get even stronger, it’s better to run. Okay?”

  “Yes! We’ll get stronger and then we’ll show everyone!” Minzhu said happily.

  Her stomach growled, interrupting the conversation, and the girl rubbed it as if soothing it and asking it to wait.

  “I’d eat anything… even a root,” she muttered.

  “We didn’t take any supplies when we ran,” Xue sighed. “We’ll have to look for something.”

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  “Let’s go to the river first! I’m thirsty!”

  “No,” the older sister shook her head. “The water there is dirty. Forgot? Father said it has to be boiled. Let’s go back to the stream we ran past last night.”

  “Back? What about the bad people?”

  “We’ll spot them before they spot us, and then we’ll just run.”

  “Alright. Quiet and fast, like mice,” Minzhu nodded.

  Wincing as wet grass brushed against their skin, the girls headed toward the stream. Xue walked in front, pushing aside low branches with her palm and holding them so they wouldn’t whip Minzhu. Disturbed gnats rose from under their feet, whining in their ears, swarming around the warm, tempting prey. The sisters paid them no mind; they were used to the forest and moved almost silently, avoiding dry branches and crackling thickets.

  The mighty crowns of the trees rustled in the wind, small animals scurried in the thick forest litter, lizards basked on stones, and bees buzzed past. No sound or scent stood out from the whole, like a well-played orchestra accompanying an idyllic scene. Soon they heard the familiar murmur ahead, like tiny bells, it felt like the stream was calling travelers and promising to quench their thirst. A few steps later, the surface of the water glinted between the trees, and the girls quickened their pace.

  Suddenly Xue stopped so abruptly that Minzhu bumped into her back. A man lay on the ground in front of them. His dead eyes stared at them with a mix of fear and surprise, bluish lips frozen in a final scream. Despite his withered face, the sisters immediately recognized one of the vagrants who had attacked them by the river.

  Minzhu covered her mouth with both hands and stumbled back, but Xue grabbed her hand, stopping her. Turning, she silently begged her sister not to move. Both felt their hands trembling. Against will, their gaze slid back to the corpse. A large centipede crawled across his pale face, along with several ants. A huge wound gaped in his chest, as if his heart had been torn out, yet there were no splashes of blood, neither on the grass, nor on the leaves, nor on his clothes.

  A little farther on, in a small clearing between the trees, four more bodies lay arranged in a strange pattern, like the spokes of a broken wheel radiating from an empty center. Strange symbols were carved into each of their foreheads, and judging by the dried blood on their faces, they had been alive when the marks were made.

  A limping warrior in black stepped out from behind a tree. In the center of the circle of corpses, he placed a bowl filled with black liquid and spread out a black scroll, then bent over one of the bodies. After brief preparations, he began drawing symbols on the beggar’s arms. The brush touched the skin slowly, and then the warrior started to chant. At that melody, the air in the forest seemed to grow heavy at once, and a shadow fell over the clearing.

  The girls froze, not daring even to breathe as they watched the horrific scene. Minzhu clutched Xue’s hand tightly, and Xue felt her sister trembling like a leaf in the wind. They had been through a lot and had seen dead people more than once, but what lay before them was something more terrifying than death itself. No rumor or trader’s tale had ever mentioned such rituals. Somewhere nearby, a branch cracked, and the girls’ hearts nearly leapt from their chests.

  The limping man jerked his head up. His swift, predatory gaze swept through the trees. Black eyes smeared with soot searched for a victim. Deep within them flickered a dull red glow, like a smoldering coal or barely restrained madness. For a moment, all sounds vanished, the murmur of the stream disappeared, it felt like the forest itself was afraid to breathe. No dragonflies, no birds, no snapping twigs, only a heavy silence hung in the air.

  Sisters almost bolted headlong, but Xue forced herself and Minzhu to crouch down and stay still. Through the dense foliage, they watched the grim figure in the clearing. As soon as the man in black turned away and resumed his dreadful chant, they took a few careful steps back.

  “We’re leaving… slowly,” Xue whispered. “Watch your step…”