As names move through the camp to wake people for their watch, they are spoken quietly and without urgency. People shift beneath blankets as they wake. Someone coughs and clears their throat. Aarav wakes as well but keeps his eyes closed for a moment, allowing the last of sleep to leave him before he moves.

  As the camp settles again, it remains quiet and orderly. The mules make the most fussing with the movement. Beyond the reach of the firelight, the oaks remain dark and unchanged. Nothing suggests trouble, just a change in the watch.

  Nearby, Seren lies where he left her, close to the wheel, with the blanket pulled to her shoulder. Her breathing stays slow and even. Aarav looks at her briefly and then looks away, recognising the need to move before he delays further.

  He shifts his weight with care and steps back without waking her. Once upright, he stretches his back and shoulders until the stiffness eases. The night air is cool against his skin, and that is enough to bring him fully alert.

  At the centre of the camp, the main fire is still burning, kept going throughout the night by those on watch. Both for its warmth and light. The sky is clear and the stars shine brightly.

  Aarav does not rely on them. He never has.

  He learned the lesson that the sky's light is unreliable. Clouds move in without warning. Flickering firelight casts confusing shadows. Creating a hill where it is flat and makes an easy path look dangerous. It all becomes meaningless once you are moving. He has crossed roads where the sky was clear and bright, and others where it was hidden entirely and the way forward was still there if you knew how to find it.

  Instead, he moves by memory alone. He remembers where the road sits near the wagons, where the land rises slightly before dipping again, where a patch of bushes sit low to the ground. He notices how his boots sound on packed earth compared to soft grass, how damp ground pulls faintly while dry ground does not. Even standing still, he can tell where he is by the slope beneath his feet and the light sound of water running in the distance.

  Aarav has never searched for the light. He has learned to live without it and in that darkness, he found himself. He counts steps without effort and knows when something is wrong. If something has shifted, he feels it through his soles before he ever sees it.

  The dark has never been empty to him. It only required attention and to accept a path unlit.

  With that in mind, he crosses the packed earth past the line of wagons where the watch has been set. There, a man he does not recognise sits on a low stump with a spear laid across his knees. He has a broad frame and thick hands. His eyes follow Aarav briefly before returning to the dark ahead.

  “Evening,” Aarav says quietly.

  The man answers with a short grunt but does not acknowledge him in any way.

  Aarav stops several paces to the left, choosing a position that gives him a clear view of the open land as well as the curve of wagons behind him. He plants his feet and adjusts his stance until it feels stable. When he turns his head slightly, the second wagon remains within his line of sight. The outline of the wheel marks where Seren is sleeping beyond it.

  He does not check that place often.

  Knowing where it is is enough.

  After some time has passed, a low murmur draws his attention. Aarav turns his head just enough to see Marden standing between two wagons, his coat catching and losing the firelight. Marden is speaking to someone positioned farther back, mostly hidden by shadow.

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  Without shifting his body, Aarav watches.

  As Marden speaks, his head remains inclined and one hand moves in a small, deliberate gesture. The other figure stays indistinct, with no clear clothing or markings visible. When that person replies, the voice remains too low to hear anything.

  The exchange continues at a steady pace. It does not have the look of idle talk. More than once, Marden glances toward the camp before returning his attention to the conversation.

  When it ends, the other figure moves behind the wagons and disappears where Aarav can’t see. Marden stays where he is for a moment, then looks toward the centre of camp and walks off in the opposite direction.

  Throughout it, Aarav remains at his post.

  With that, the second watch is underway.

  It is then that Aarav notes Ivo’s absence.

  Ivo held the first watch and doesn’t seem like a person prone to leaving a position early. He has been very straight edge from Aarav's account. Even so, he is not present. Aarav notices the fact, he has always had a mind for details and spotting what is missing.

  As the watch settles into a routine, the dark becomes easier to read. Sounds separate into familiar patterns. Water moves faintly at the far edge of camp. Leaves shift when the breeze moves through the trees. Wood crackles as it burns in the fire. Nearby, the man on the stump shifts his footing and scratches his side.

  Everything remains normal and uneventful.

  During the quiet, Aarav thinks on Marden. His dislike of the man surprises him. He has done nothing he hasn’t done himself. Aarav has travelled with men involved in worse trades and never thought to judge them or really think that hard about them.

  The issue is in Marden's eye. Eyes that when they settle on Seren, spark something in him. A need to protect her, but from what he isn’t sure.

  He has always assessed people before knowing them. He weighs their value to him before knowing their names. Aarav has already assessed Seren a few times since their meeting but she keeps surprising him. Watching Marden do it is different somehow.

  It sits wrong with him.

  He spends some time with that thought. How he holds Seren close because of her value to him. His plans to use and exploit her, no different from what he sees in Marden's eyes when he looks at her. Seren is already claimed by him and it makes sense then that he is angered by another person looking to take what is already his.

  Afterward, Aarav shifts his stance and scans the trees again. An owl moves between branches without sound. Something small stirs in the leaves and stills when the man on the stump clears his throat.

  He then looks back toward the wagons and the wheel that marks Seren’s place. The sense of ease he feels remains unchanged.

  When the man on the stump shifts again, Aarav inclines his head slightly.

  “Anything the matter?” he asks.

  “Fox,” the man replies after a pause.

  “Okay,” Aarav says.

  The man grunts, and they both return to their watch.

  As time passes, it does so at a steady pace. The stars shift slowly. The air cools further. Moisture settles lightly on everything. As always during watch, Aarav runs through old routes in his mind, checking exits and alternatives.

  A long ingrained habit.

  Broken regularly by his thoughts moving back to Seren angina and again. Perhaps this doesn’t have to end in betrayal. If they get close enough, she may just give him what he wants. The power might not need to come at any cost at all.

  Even so, he tells himself that attachment is a liability and that if he must, he will set it aside.

  Near the end of the watch, Marden appears again, this time alone. He walks to the edge of camp and looks to the east. Eventually, he walks back into camp.

  Aarav notices the strange behaviour but it could be nothing.

  He still doesn’t like the man.