Experimenting with Elements of Nychtophobia

Continuing right where I left off, I was going for an old-folksy feel mixed with serious Nychtophobia. It's pretty experimental in its delivery. Lots of elements I'm not sure about. How does it come off?

“I cannot say how relieved I am to meet with a friend on this road!” Mother said, and the Wygar man stepped forward to take her in a strong embrace, and did the same to Aelwys. He smelled of woodsmoke and of the sweet spices from which the Wygars made their hot ciders, reminding her of that happy Dyreceald she spent with her uncle years ago.

“Help!” came a pathetic voice suddenly, seemingly from behind a clump of pine trees on the hillside near the path. “Please, help me!” The voice was weak, neither male nor female, and the sound of it caused the hair on the back of Aelwys' neck to stand on end. The three of them looked to the clump of trees. The pines were still save for a breeze that stirred them, and no sound but the crashing of the waves was audible.

“Help me!”

Again, in the very corner of Aelwys' left eye, she thought she saw someone standing on the bridge they had just crossed. She whipped her head around to see, and again found it empty.

“Please help –”

“Who is there?” cried the man, cutting the voice off as it spoke. It fell silent. Nothing moved but the wind through the needles of the pines. And then it returned, louder and shriller,

“Help me please help me please help!”

Movement inside another nearby clump of trees caught Aelwys' eye, but it ceased as quickly as it began, and the light was too dim to track it.

“Please please help me!”

“Pay it no heed,” said the man, “Let us walk quickly away.”

They began to continue their way down the path. The voice grew louder and more desperate.

“Please help me help me please help!”

Aelwys looked back to the pines from which the voice came, and still nothing moved within them.

“What's going on?” she dared to ask.

“The things in the night, the ones that the Sovereign's men have taught us to fear so much,” said Mother, “They want to get us off the road.” Another sound cut through the air, a horrible sort of song whose tune was familiar to Aelwys. She remembered hearing it sung in school at nightfall when she was younger.

The moon hath long risen; thou goest anon?

The curtain of night hath been unpinned and drawn;

The things in the darkness have naught to feast on!

The voice was sickly sounding, and eerily inhuman. Aelwys dared a glance backward to see shadows dart out of sight and back behind trees and rocks along the pathway behind them.

The shades that see many, no eyes have laid on!

So late be the hour, and where hast thou gone?

“I'm taking you to a safehouse,” said the man as they walked ever more swiftly, “We set up several in the past few weeks to make easier the journey to Ceadlund. These things cannot reach us there.”

“Cannot reach us, those things!” Came another nasty voice from beneath the drop of the cliff to their right, “Cannot reach us in the safehouse!”

“We will have to leave the path to get there,” the man warned, “But we musn't stray too far; we are being hunted.”

“Can those things hurt us?” Aelwys asked, her voice quivering.

“Yes,” the man said simply. There were no more questions. Aelwys wished she could close her eyes and run until she were safe, but she knew that she could not. She would have to endure this.

“We aren't far,” the Wygar said, “But we are being closed in on. We can no longer risk walking without a light. We must signal those at the safehouse.”