He didn’t make it that easy for them, of course. When they arrived, the signs of his passage were clear, even to Brandon and Lena.
“Damn,” Rich whispered as they inspected the area. “We’re actually falling behind! He’s hours ahead of us now.”
“He’s alone,” Brandon mused, “and we’re only moving as fast as the slowest of us.” By which he meant himself, but nobody pointed that out. At least he was getting faster; it frustrated him to see how quickly and easily Sorcha could slip through the trees, while the rest of them, even Rich, struggled.
“True,” Sorcha agreed. “Let’s get going before he adds even more to his lead.”
The pressed onward. By the time the hills were behind them and the sun was dipping below the tops of the buildings of the city before them, they were almost three hours behind the Necromancer. “Our friend must have other magical tricks up his sleeve,” Rich grumbled, clearly annoyed at how far behind they’d gotten.
“Yes, he would,” Sorcha confirmed. “He would have to. Necromancy is a subject only powerful and well-respected magical practitioners are permitted to study. Keep that in mind when we catch up with him; he’ll be dangerous.”