Elayra cast Ghent a quick glance, hastily closed her pack and picked it up, then followed a couple steps behind Drust. She slung it carefully over one shoulder as she hurried to catch up with the man’s longer strides.
	She watched his back intently as they neared the path, his neck and fingers twitching at his side with no evident provocation. Something was different. [i]Wrong.[/i] He had been tenser than usual the last couple days, but this was something on a whole new level.
	Her fists clenched. Whatever was going on, was only more reason to bring down the Sorceress as fast as possible. If [i]he[/i] did not start training Ghent, then she would, one way or another. 
	Ahead and at their feet, vines and weeds choked the pebbly ground, leaving only small glimpses of the once well-traveled path. Beyond the ivy at the opening, the rocky encompassment of Harrow Hollow Hill turned into grass and tree-studded walls. The hills stretched toward the sky on either side of them, quickly tapering off and growing shorter the closer they grew to the gate. Intricate networks of roots draped down the cliffs from a few trees bold enough to rest near the edge, stretching toward better soil below.
	Away from the glow of the light of the field, gray shadows yawned out from bushes and large, moss-covered boulders, and mulled about lazily beneath the leaves of the few trees dotting the area. Above, billowy clouds rolled across the sky, their fluffy forms ignited by the rising sun. 
	Drust glanced over his shoulder when Ghent referred to the Sorceress, his lips jerking down into a frown.
	“This isn’t [i]Harry Potter,[/i] boy,” he growled before Ghent brought up the voices.
	“Who?” Elayra looked at Drust with confused curiosity.
	“‘You-know-who,’” he continued gruffly as if Elayra had not spoken, “is suspicious enough to gain the attention of her trees.”
	When Ghent hesitantly voiced his experience, Drust exhaled sharply through his nose, making it impossible to tell if it was a snort or a sigh.
	Elayra took a breath and slowed slightly as she nodded at Ghent’s question. “Yeah. I heard them. Her. And…” she glanced up to Drust, who had placed a bit more distance between them. “And I think I heard my mother, but… I don’t know,” she finished quietly with an uncertain shake of her head, her gaze shifting to the ground.
	Drust looked over his shoulder once more, and his pace slowed to better match his charges’. “It’s common to hear the voices of the world you’re traveling to. Past. Present. And even, rarely, future. If they make a big enough impact, you may hear voices of those you know. Or knew.”