The older man frowned, approaching the spot cautiously. He knelt, examining the ground where the lichen ended. "This isn't natural. The lichen has been deliberately cleared from this point forward."
"Why would someone do that?" Alan asked, joining him.
Before Marcus could answer, a subtle vibration ran through the stone beneath their feet. It grew stronger rapidly, becoming a tremor that dislodged small rocks and sent them tumbling down the mountainside.
"Another Rift expansion?" Alan suggested, bracing himself against a larger boulder.
Marcus shook his head, his expression grim. "No. This is different. More localized." He pointed to a spot about fifty yards ahead where the air had begun to shimmer, like heat waves rising from hot pavement. "Someone is opening a portal."
The shimmering intensified, coalescing into a vertical oval of swirling energy. Unlike the chaotic purple-black of the Void Rift, this portal was a controlled construct of blue-white light, its edges precisely defined.
"Academy magic," Marcus confirmed, pulling Alan behind a rock outcropping for concealment. "A transportation portal. Very advanced, very difficult to maintain."
They watched as four figures emerged from the portal in quick succession. Even from a distance, their purpose was clear—all wore the same dark uniforms with silver insignia, and all carried staffs or other implements that radiated power even to Alan's untrained senses.
"The Containment Team," Marcus whispered. "They've bypassed the main route entirely."
The last figure through the portal was taller than the others, with a distinctive blade strapped to his back. He gestured, and the portal collapsed in on itself and vanished.
"Darkblade," Marcus identified the leader. "We're fortunate they opened the portal ahead of us rather than behind. They expect us to be further along the path."
Alan studied the team as they began to move down the trail toward Ironhammer. "They're between us and the city now. How do we get past them?"
Marcus considered their options. "We can't go back—the high paths are too dangerous after dark. And we can't follow them directly without being spotted." He looked up at the rocky slope above the path. "We'll have to climb and find another way down."
Alan followed his gaze with trepidation. The slope looked treacherously steep, with loose scree and few handholds. "Is that even possible?"
"Difficult, but not impossible," Marcus replied. "And our only viable option unless you wish to introduce yourself to Darkblade and his team."
Given the alternatives, Alan reluctantly agreed to the climb. They waited until the Containment Team had moved far enough ahead to be out of sight, then began their ascent of the slope above the path.
The climbing was every bit as challenging as Alan had feared. The rock was loose in places, creating small slides that threatened to carry them down to the path below. Every handhold had to be tested before being trusted, and progress was agonizingly slow.
The sun had now set, though the western sky still held enough light to see by. The air grew colder rapidly, the mountain winds picking up and cutting through Alan's clothing. His hands were scraped and bleeding from the sharp rocks, and his muscles screamed with the effort of the climb.
"Just... a little further," Marcus encouraged from slightly above him. "There's a ledge ahead that might offer an alternative route."
Alan gritted his teeth and continued upward, focusing on each movement, each handhold, trying to ignore the growing pain and fatigue. When his hand finally grasped the edge of the ledge Marcus had mentioned, he nearly sobbed with relief.
With a final effort, he pulled himself up onto the relatively flat surface, rolling onto his back and breathing heavily. Marcus was already there, looking only slightly less exhausted.
"Well done," the older man said, genuine respect in his voice. "Few from your world would have managed that climb."
Alan was too winded to respond immediately. When he finally caught his breath, he sat up and surveyed their new position. The ledge was part of a narrow natural shelf that curved around the mountainside, roughly parallel to but above the main path.
"This might actually work," he said, hope returning. "We can follow this around and descend once we're past the Containment Team."
Marcus nodded, but his expression remained concerned. "It's a viable route, but we'll be moving in near darkness soon. Mountain nights are dangerous even on established paths."
As if to emphasize his point, a distant howl echoed across the slopes—a sound unlike any wolf or coyote Alan had ever heard, with harmonics that seemed to resonate in his bones.
"What was that?" he asked, suddenly very aware of how exposed they were.
"Mountain stalker," Marcus replied grimly. "Nocturnal predators that hunt these slopes after dark. They're drawn to body heat and magical energy."
"Wonderful," Alan muttered. "Just what we needed."
They rested only briefly before continuing along the narrow shelf. The last light was fading rapidly from the sky, and stars were beginning to appear—constellations unfamiliar to Alan, yet another reminder of how far from home he truly was.