Rain knelt, knees sinking silently into the marshy turf as she settled into a comfortable position. She doubted her wait would be too horribly long, but if need be she could remain here, motionless, until daybreak. There was no hurry.

      The grass near Rain’s knees rustled as a watersnake slid by, the nocturnal reptile slinking out to hunt. Rain stifled a yawn as it slithered away; the warm, soothing darkness of the swamp made drowsiness almost irresistible. She was too at home here—the warm, muggy air, the hum of insects, and the murky blackness relaxed her, tempting her to sleep.

      Rain stretched, shaking her head to dispel the tiredness. She wouldn’t usually be so sleepy this early at night, but Raxell’s messenger pixy had roused her before dawn, forcing Rain to stay awake, planning.

      Muffling another yawn, Rain blinked in annoyance. The lanternflies were out in droves, and the glittering lights played games with Rain’s vision. Their twinkling vaguely reminded her of the candles used for Encasing spells…

      No! Rain pushed the thought away. Sorcery dominated her thoughts; everything reminded her of sorcery, or casting spells, or Aenira. It made Rain want to scream in helpless fury. She wanted to forget sorcery and focus on weapons-training, or on her family, or… anything!

      But Aenira’s charm, hidden around her neck, wouldn’t let her forget. The gold disc’s weight grew more hateful and oppressive with each passing day, but she couldn’t remove it for fear of the Master Sorceress’s reaction. Still, Rain longed to rip the charm to shreds, for she knew that it compounded sorcery’s addictive pull. She knew that this entanglement with sorcery was weakening her resistance, her personality, even her senses, and it terrified her—but Aenira’s power terrified her more.

      And Rain knew, deep down, that if she couldn’t simply rip the charm off in defiance, welcoming the consequences with reckless abandon, Aenira already had her under control—

      A soft, bubbling swish snapped Rain back to the present.

      Reproaching herself for letting her mind wander, Rain leaned forward, cautiously peering ahead. She’d hidden in an ideal spot; the path through the marshes lay directly below, running along the base of a tall, cliff-like outcropping of firm ground. The footpath had been carved into smooth, solid stone, assuring that it wouldn’t disappear over time, despite the swamp around it. Rain sat a few feet from the brink, virtually invisible amidst the swampgrass—but positioned so that nothing could pass her invisibly.

      Draxen. Three of them.

      The creatures seeped into view like spreading mud as they emerged from the stagnant quagmire. They were flaccid creatures, masses of colorless flesh and slimy tentacles, adapted to the swamp. Rain watched nonchalantly; she’d seen Draxen enough that their gruesome appearance no longer revolted her. All part of being born D’Karinae, Rain chuckled silently.

      At Rain’s shelf of high ground, the Draxen separated. Two slunk into the rushes by the path, dripping marshwater, and the largest one curled up at the base of the outcrop, where it would be indiscernible to someone on the path—but visible to Rain.

      For now, Rain contented herself with watching the Draxen, knowing they’d forewarn her when Raxell approached. After that, she’d improvise.

      Rain wondered, idly, how she’d dispatch the Draxen. These were standard Draxen, nothing too dangerous; each had six sucker-covered tentacles (Rain had fought a Drax with nine, once), and their tails weren’t spiked. She’d avoid their lamprey-like mouths, and she couldn’t touch them since they oozed poisonous slime… but that was the knife’s job.

      She waited for several hours—it was almost midnight, Rain guessed, when she heard Raxell’s elfin tread moving swiftly (if loudly) closer. Simultaneously, the Drax below her hissed to warn its companions that their prey approached.

      A few moments later, Raxell entered Rain’s field of vision.

      Rain winced. The elfin swordsmith wore her regular, thick-soled boots, which accented each step with a thump—giving every Drax within leagues Raxell’s precise location. Foolish elf, Rain shook her head in disbelief as she lifted her knife.

      Raxell had come nearly to Rain’s hiding place when the Drax began hooting.

      Rain had heard Draxen hunting calls before, but they still made her shiver. The lulling, cooing whoom reverberated in disorienting patterns as the creatures took up the cry, like a wolfpack pursuing a stag.

      Raxell halted, looking around in thinly veiled panic. The elf guardedly drew her dirk, flicking her white-blonde braid out of her face in grim anticipation; but Rain knew that Raxell couldn’t combat Draxen. The elf glanced around uneasily, betraying her anxiety, her usual composure replaced with taut uncertainty. Rain wasn’t surprised. Confusion was the Draxen’s calls’ purpose—their prey couldn’t know where to run.

      Rain still waited. Just a little closer… she didn’t want to establish mental contact with Raxell in case the elf relaxed her vigilance. Move, Rax, move.

      As the Draxen cries heightened, Raxell stepped towards the ledge, subconsciously moving to a more protected place than the path.

      The Drax beneath Rain tensed to spring, and the other two leaped for Raxell.

      In one fluid motion, Rain stepped off the ledge, knife bared as she dropped onto the Drax. Rain briefly saw the Drax’s marshgray hide, the squidlike head, the bulbous blue eyes staring hungrily at Raxell with no inkling of Rain’s presence—

      The only sound that marked the Drax’s death was the swish of Rain’s knife sliding into the base of its skull, slaying him quietly and painlessly.

      Rain sprang forward immediately, bulling past Raxell and springing for the other two Draxen, relying on surprise and speed.

      The Draxen were caught unawares. Rain ducked under a tentacle, slid her knife across the nearest throat, and then spun to drive her knife into the last Drax’s back.

      As the last Drax collapsed, Rain wiped her knife clean and turned to Raxell. The elf sat numbly in the path, mouth open, eyes wide in mingled astonishment and relief.

      Rain bowed, a smile hovering at her mouth. “Good evening.”