They crouched in the tall grass about a hundred meters from the temple, eyeing the crumbling structure with concern. The temple was more than abandoned; it was decaying, surrendering to the grip of time and neglect. Wild vines twisted around the stone columns, burrowing into cracks and seams, breaking down the bone-white exterior and hastening its inevitable collapse. In the center of the overgrown courtyard stood a fountain, as dilapidated as the temple, its dry basin watched over by the remnants of a grotesque statue. Jack tried to make sense of the misshapen figure, but its twisted features defied human form. Whatever it had once represented was long lost to decay.

  They waited in tense silence, scanning the temple for any movement. Ten minutes earlier, as they’d crested a small hill, they spotted something lurking in the temple’s entrance. A shadowy figure stood near the steps. It had turned in their direction, its dark form seeming to sense their presence. Kleo dropped to the ground immediately, and Jack followed, their eyes meeting in silent confirmation. When they looked back, the figure had vanished, leaving the courtyard eerily still.

  Jack’s gaze swept over the sagging walls, the broken stones, and the overgrown paths. Eyes straining to catch any movement, a sign that the figure might reappear. Nothing—no sign of life, only an unsettling quiet that pressed down around them like a weight.

  The late afternoon sun had dimmed, a blanket of gray clouds muting its light, while darker, thunder-laden clouds approached from the east. The wind had picked up, carrying the distant scent of rain and the promise of a storm. Lightning flickered on the horizon, its tendrils arcing from the sky to an unseen point below. The storm would be upon them sooner than expected.

  Jack’s stomach churned with unease. The last thing he wanted was to shelter in that decrepit temple. He’d seen something dark there, something unknowable, disturbing, and unsettling. He felt a pang of regret over every choice that had led him here. Abandoning Cabal. Throwing himself into the unknown and entrusted his life to a woman who was little more than a stranger. Kleo was full of secrets and spoke in one-word sentences as if she was afraid that one word too many might release everything she guarded so carefully.

  And now, as the storm closed in, he found himself caught between two unknown dangers: the raging tempest and a mysterious figure watching them from the temple steps. He felt like a naive city boy stumbling toward a trap, about to be devoured by whatever horror lay in wait.

  Kleo caught his eye and gestured for him to follow her. She began a steady, quiet approach toward the temple, keeping low to the ground.

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  Jack hesitated, his legs tense and unwilling to move.

  Kleo paused, giving him an expectant look. Her gaze held firm as if assuring him this was their only viable choice.

  With a resigned sigh, he steeled himself and dashed to where she waited, his body taut with tension. He glanced back, searching the field behind them, seeing nothing but the chaotic movement of tall grass whipped by the wind.

  After several long minutes of waiting in silence, Kleo finally stood, stretching her legs.

  “Let’s go,” she murmured, keeping her voice low.

  Jack grunted as he stood, his shoulders aching from the weight of his pack and the day’s travel.

  She held a glinting blade in her right hand as she headed toward the temple’s entrance. Where had that come from? He hadn’t seen her draw it, and the sight filled him with awe and apprehension.

  They stopped at the fountain's edge, where Kleo studied the statue and the dried-out basin. Only the scattered remains of small animals lay among weeds that struggled to grow in the bone-dry earth.

  “Do you think it’s gone?” Jack asked, glancing at the temple entrance.

  “Unlikely,” she replied, her gaze fixed on the temple’s dark archway.

  Jack dropped his pack onto the fountain’s edge and pulled out the only item he had that resembled a weapon—a battered kitchen knife. He’d found it discarded in the city, and though the cook had intended it for the trash, Jack had seen its potential. Anything sharp could mean the difference between life and death in a world as dangerous as his.

  Kleo’s eyes flicked to the knife, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Try not to hurt yourself… or me,” she said, her tone teasing but carrying a hint of genuine warning.

  Jack gave a wry smile. “No promises.”

  He glanced at the temple, thinking about the figure they had seen. “I don’t know what that was,” he murmured, “but if I had to guess, I’d say it was a wraith.”

  Kleo considered his words. “If I understand what you mean by ‘wraith,’ then no—it wasn’t that. If it were, we’d have turned and run. We’d be halfway to Astiria by now.”

  “You think we could outrun a wraith?”

  She paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I don’t need to outrun the wraith,” she said, waiting for the realization to dawn on him.

  Jack rolled his eyes. “You only have to outrun me. Ha! Not like I haven’t heard that one before.”

  She laughed, her smile breaking the tension for a fleeting moment. It was a rare expression on her, lightening Jack’s mood, if only slightly.

  “Alright,” she said, returning her focus to the temple, “let’s set up camp and secure the area. Once we’re settled, we can eat, and I’ll explain what I know about that figure. It’s dangerous, yes, but not in the way you think. It won’t attack us physically, but it’ll be back tonight. That’s why you need to understand what we’re dealing with—to make sure you don’t do anything… impulsive. With the storm on its way, staying here is safer than risking the open ground.”

  Jack swallowed hard, nodding. Her words were not exactly comforting, but her calm demeanor reassured him.

  He followed her to the temple’s entrance, stepping over loose stones and weeds as they entered the shadowy interior.