The moon hung low and it illuminated the gently waving grass in an eerie glow. Corin balked as Brooks took his first step into the field of whispers.
“I don’t think we should go through there.” Her instincts were screaming to back away slowly.
“Why?” he asked in a hard voice.
“It’s haunted.”
His face morphed from interested to completely closed off. “Spirits don’t come around creatures like me, Corin. Come.”
Creatures like him? Dark? Soulless? What did that even mean?
“Why did you choose this place?” The first tendrils of suspicion touched her heart. “What does it mean to you?”
A cold smile crooked his lips but failed to reach his eyes. “I fought Bear Valley for my first battle in this meadow. The souls you hear whispering against your neck? They are the unsettled ghosts of my people and yours.
