The cart stood still, the horses restless. Hooves pawed at the dirt, nostrils flaring toward the treeline. The traffickers sat stiff on the bench, eyes fixed on the shifting shadows ahead. Something was out there.
"Move," one said. The reins snapped, and the wheels rolled forward.
The forest closed in immediately. Roots swelled from the earth, stones knocked against the axles, and low branches clawed at the tarps and cages. Light bled away until it felt like dusk, though the day wasn't over. The air was damp and thick, carrying the smell of mold and old blood.
"Shortcut," the driver muttered under his breath.
"Fewer guards," came the reply.
Silva Maledicta swallowed the road whole. Trees twisted in shapes that looked half-dead, half-watching. Moss drooped in long strands, wet and heavy, brushing shoulders and dripping cold on bare skin. The ground on both sides was littered with broken wagons, scattered bones, and rusted bear traps snapped shut on nothing.
A branch cracked somewhere ahead. The horses froze, ears flicking, heads jerking toward the sound.
"Go," the driver hissed, yanking the reins.
Something moved in the shadows. A flicker of pale eyes.
The first predator stepped onto the path—low, lean, built to run between the trees. Its head tilted once before it bared teeth. Another shape dropped from a branch overhead, claws biting into the cart roof, the whole frame shuddering with the impact.
The horses screamed. The cart lurched forward.
A whip cracked. A club swung. The thing on the roof scraped along the boards, rattling the cages before vaulting away. One trafficker was yanked from the bench in a blur of claws and teeth, his shout cut short. Garruk slammed a fist into another beast lunging through the side, sending it tumbling back into the dirt.
They didn't stay gone. The creatures slipped back into the trees, circled, and came again—faster.
A set of claws ripped into the lead horse's flank. Blood sprayed. The animal bolted, dragging the cart into a rut. Prisoners slammed against iron bars, one nearly biting through his tongue.
A trafficker brought a hammer down on a skull, splitting bone, but before he could pull it free another beast caught him in the ribs. He staggered back, coughing blood, and fell across the floorboards.
The cart bounced hard over a root, nearly tipping. The driver yanked at the reins, swearing, eyes darting between the twisting shapes moving alongside.
Claws tore into the wood of a cage, curling toward the man inside. He kicked back, shouting, until Garruk's arm shot through the gap and caught the creature under the jaw. Bone cracked, and it went limp, dropping to the dirt as the cart rattled on.
More came. Always from the blind spots. From above. From behind. They hit and vanished, never staying long enough for a clean strike.
Blood slicked the cart floor. The horses' hooves pounded the dirt, their bodies slick with sweat and terror. A wheel clipped a half-buried skull, sending the cart jolting sideways, almost into the trees.
"This shortcut's a curse," a trafficker yelled over the chaos.
"Better than the gallows!" the driver barked back, swinging the whip.
One beast lunged from the right. Garruk braced, caught it midair, and slammed it into the bars until it went still. His knuckles dripped red.
The attacks slowed. The creatures melted back into the forest, their eyes watching until the cart passed. Then nothing—just the sound of wheels, panting horses, and the groans of the wounded.
Garruk's shadow passed over the cages. "Alive. For now."
No one spoke after that. The forest pressed close again, silent but breathing. Somewhere out there, the predators waited for the next stumble, the next sign of weakness.
The cart rolled on, deeper into Silva Maledicta.
***
The path narrowed again, forcing the horses to slow. Garruk stayed at the bars, scanning the tree line. The traffickers kept their weapons close, faces drawn tight. No one trusted the silence.
A rustle. Then another.
The driver's eyes flicked left. "They're not gone."
From behind, a scream ripped through the air. One of the rear guards vanished into the undergrowth, dragged so fast he barely got a hand to his knife. The forest swallowed the sound of his struggle.
Then the shadows exploded.
Three predators burst onto the road at once—two small and fast, one towering over the cart with a hunched back and shoulders wide enough to block the path. Its eyes burned with dull yellow light, mouth lined with jagged teeth.
The big one roared, a deep, chest-shaking sound that made the horses rear. The cart tipped, iron bars groaning under the weight of the prisoners slamming against them.
A trafficker swung his club into one of the smaller beasts, shattering its leg, but the other slipped under the wheel and tore into the driver's boot. He screamed and kicked until his heel connected with its jaw.
The big one hit the cart head-on. Wood splintered. The cages rattled loose from their bolts. Garruk slammed his shoulder into the side, holding it steady as the traffickers stabbed down from above. One blade buried itself in the thing's shoulder; it howled and wrenched free, nearly pulling the weapon from the man's grip.
A prisoner screamed as claws punched through the bars and dragged him halfway out. Garruk caught his arm and yanked him back just as another set of teeth snapped shut where his head had been.
The horses bolted again. The cart careened left, nearly hitting a tree. The wheel caught a root, jolting hard enough to throw one trafficker overboard. He didn't get up.
Garruk roared, smashing his fist into the big predator's snout, forcing it to backpedal. Smaller ones darted in, swiping at legs and arms, retreating before anyone could counter. Blood slicked the boards, seeping into the cracks.
A crossbow bolt punched through one of the smaller beasts' throats. It fell twitching, but another leapt in its place, climbing onto the roof. The trafficker below stabbed upward blindly, feeling the blade sink into something soft. The weight thudded to the ground.
The big one lunged again—straight for the lead horse. Its jaws clamped down, twisting. Bone cracked. The animal dropped instantly, dragging the harness and throwing the whole cart forward onto its nose. Prisoners slammed into iron, one trafficker hit the dirt face-first, blood pooling beneath him.
"Cut it loose!" someone shouted. Knives flashed. The dead horse was freed, the rest surging forward, pulling the cart out of the beast's reach.
The predators didn't chase. They stood in the road, breathing hard, blood dripping from their jaws. Watching. Waiting.
The cart rattled on, lighter now, emptier in more ways than one.
Nobody spoke. Even Garruk stayed silent, his fists still clenched, eyes locked on the path ahead.
Silva Maledicta had taken what it wanted.
For now.