The shadow of the Shroud was a deep blood-red in the faint illumination still coming off the deck of the Bjorn. Sinmora practically hummed in Einarr’s hand as he stood on deck, facing the target of his quest once more.
Naudrek faced the Shroud at his side, and for that Einarr was grateful. He wasn’t sure how much help the other man would be against a living piece of cloth, but it was still good to have an ally.
Sinmora’s hum increased in time with Einarr’s resolve. Over the water, the Shroud seemed to quiver in place, almost as though it were cornered.
Why, though? Einarr was not going to complain, but it was puzzling. Why did the Shroud need to bother with a boat at all? It could fly under its own power, and it was not a creature to need rest. Whatever the reason, it was working…
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