The Soul Stealer. Alex Archer

despite the strange noises they’d heard only minutes before.

      She watched Gregor toss some more wood on the fire. And then, rather than stare into the flames, he turned himself around so that his back was to the fire and to the shelter. He stared off into the night.

      Annja watched him for another few moments before her eyes drooped one final time and sleep finally overpowered her. The thought of her concussion made her briefly wonder if she might never wake again.

      But she was sure that Gregor would not have permitted her to sleep if he thought she might die. Strange as he was, she couldn’t quite shake the idea that he was deeply concerned about her well-being.

      W HEN A NNJA’S EYES SLID OPEN , darkness still enveloped the entire campsite. Inside the shelter, Annja felt warm and snug. The pine boughs Gregor had placed over her earlier in the night had done their job. The scent of pine hung in the air.

      Her head didn’t seem to hurt anymore, much to her relief. Annja shifted and heard the dull snore of Bob snoozing nearby.

      She knew hours must have passed, but what time was it? Why hadn’t Gregor woken Bob to relieve him on guard duty?

      Annja frowned and shifted again, working her way out from under the pile of boughs. The survival blanket made a noise like aluminum foil being crushed and Annja winced. The less noise she made, the better she felt. No sense waking Bob if she could get out of the shelter and give Gregor a break herself.

      Annja poked her head out of the entrance of the lean-to and winced as the cold night air greeted her. There was a distinct bite to it and her skin, which had been warm inside, seemed to stretch taut against the cold.

      Embers glowed a deep red in the campfire pit, but it appeared to have been some time since fresh wood had been added to it.

      Gregor was nowhere to be seen.

      Annja frowned. Had he abandoned them? She didn’t think that made any sense. Why would he have gone through all the trouble of helping Annja with her concussion if he’d intended to desert them all along?

      She moved out of the lean-to, hugging herself as she did so. The howl of wind broke the night, rustling the tall trees above her, making them strain as they leaned one way, then another. The sky overhead showed no stars, only the dark clouds of an approaching storm.

      Annja’s footsteps crunched into the fresh layer of snow that had covered the landscape while she slumbered. There was maybe an inch on the ground, but no more. Still, looking at the sky again, Annja sensed that there’d be more in the coming day.

      That meant they needed to get to Yakutsk as soon as possible. Annja’s run-in with the giant truck had cost them plenty of time. It couldn’t have been helped, but Annja felt marginally responsible for slowing down the team.

      She didn’t like feeling hopeless. Or like some wounded puppy that couldn’t hold its own. She knew Bob would never say anything, even if he could be incredibly focused on sticking to a schedule.

      They’d need to get going as soon as daylight broke.

      But judging from the sky, it seemed that dawn was still a good way off.

      Another blast of wind rattled some of the snow from branches high above, sending clumps of it down into the fire. The embers hissed as the snow melted into water that instantly sizzled and turned to steam.

      Where was Gregor?

      Annja turned and walked the perimeter of the camp. She didn’t think he was the type of guy who would fall asleep while on guard duty. Not a man with all sorts of military and organized-crime experiences in his background.

      So where had he gone?

      She retraced her steps to the fire and knelt down by the log where she’d last seen him sitting. Annja felt the log and found it cold. He’d obviously been gone long enough for the log to lose the warmth his body would have left.

      Her hands felt the muddy ground. She found the dull impressions left behind by his boots and followed them as they headed away from the fire in a straight line.

      Ten feet from the fire, they vanished. Annja sighed. His footsteps were easy to find close to the fire because the ground was warmer there. Any snow that had fallen had melted into the ground, turning it muddy. As a result, Gregor had left tracks.

      But farther away, the ground was cold and hard, and Gregor’s tracks didn’t show nearly as well as they had a few feet back.

      Still, Annja felt the straight line leading away from the fire told her something important—whatever had attracted his attention, Gregor had headed straight for it.

      There was little ambient light to work with. Seeing in the night was proving difficult for her, but what if Gregor was in trouble?

      Annja stepped carefully through the snow, knowing that even a shallow layer could prove slippery. She didn’t want to add a broken leg to her list of injuries.

      The ground sloped down away from the camp. Annja closed her eyes and visualized the sword. It hovered there in front of her, ready for use. But did she really want to bring it out right now?

      She opened her eyes. Which way to go?

      Her instincts told her to move to the left.

      She smiled, ignoring the pain for a brief moment. The decision had certainly come to her without hesitation. Maybe she was getting the hang of listening to her instincts a bit better.

      She seemed to be walking parallel to the side of the mountain. To her left, the land sloped up, back the way she’d come. To her right, it leveled off for some distance and then seemed to disappear into the darkness.

      The wind continued to howl all around her.

      Annja crept forward, convinced that she was close to wherever Gregor had ended up.

      A dull crack to her left made her pivot and squint into the darkness. She caught herself and then, instead of peering directly at the noise, she turned her head and tried to look out of the corner of her eyes, using the natural structure of her eyesight to enable her to see better.

      Nothing.

      She sighed. This was getting weird. She had the distinct impression that she was being watched and she didn’t like it one bit.

      Annja closed her eyes and visualized the sword again.

      Just as she was about to close her hands over it, a hand slid over her mouth and she felt herself being taken down from behind. Another hand kept her from hitting the ground hard. And then she felt brute force keeping her pinned, but without hurting her.

      A voice hissed in her ear. “Quiet.”

      Gregor.

      Annja relaxed some, trying to twist to see him and ask what was going on. Instead of releasing the pressure, Gregor pointed off to the right.

      Annja could see that the ground fell away, forming a steep cliff that dropped down into some sort of valley. At the bottom of it, perhaps a half a mile away, she could see a dim glow.

      “Do not speak. It will hear us,” Gregor whispered.

      From half a mile away? Annja frowned. She’d never heard of a person who could pick up a whisper from that distance.

      Gregor’s breath felt hot against Annja’s neck.

      She strained her eyes to see what he was so interested in. But any detail seemed to elude her. She could make out some kind of figure stooped over, huddling in front of something.

      A campfire?

      No. The light would have been yellow or orange. This light was a pale shade of blue-green.

      Gregor pulled her back away from the edge of the cliff. He released Annja, who rolled to face him. He held a finger to his lips. “Whisper only.”

      “Why did you sneak up on me?” she hissed.

      Gregor pointed.