Connor nodded. “I understand.” He shifted a bit, including Tressa in their conversation. She pretended like she hadn’t even noticed they were excluding her. “Bastian and I will be back here before the sun crests.”
Tressa looked up into the sky. They didn’t have long. “Okay. I’ll be back then too. I just need to grab my pack and a couple of other things.”
Connor tossed an arm over Tressa and Bastian’s shoulders. “The old gang back together. This is going to be some adventure.”
Bastian smiled, nodded, and then walked toward the forge. Tressa slipped out from Connor’s arm and left for her cottage. She glanced over her shoulder one more time at the dead dragon. Her heart swelled and she knew only one thing: she needed to see another one of those, alive and strong.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tressa snuck into her cottage, avoiding the crowds still milling around outside. They seemed to have lost interest in blaming her. In a way, the dragon saved her from an angry mob. They would have turned on her, all of them, and she knew it. Udor only would have fanned the flames of their ignorance, leading them into thinking she was everything he wanted them to believe.
She reached into the corner of the small cottage, grabbing her travel pack. It was stuffed with a change of clothes, breeches not a dress, bread and apples, a bit of jerky, a jar of honey, and little else. A small doll crafted by Granna from fabric scraps hid in the bottom. It was the one sentimental item she allowed herself. Everything else would have to stay behind. Waiting for her return.
Well, if she’d had family that might be the case. With Granna gone, her goods would likely last a day before they were distributed to others who needed them. No one ever came back, so why bother saving them?
She reached into her pocket, fingering the crinkled note she’d found earlier. She wanted to chalk it up to more of Granna’s wishing.
A lilting noise interrupted her reverie. Tressa peeked out the back window, looking for the source. In the apple tree behind her cottage, a small downy bird, with huge eyes and a tiny beak peered at her. Its head bobbled up and down, then flipped to the side. Tressa gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Nerak, Granna’s little owl.
Tressa tsked with her tongue, while stretching out her hand. The owl tilted its head to the other side. It was such a strange movement, as if it could almost turn its head upside down. “I’m glad to see you one last time before I leave.”
The owl hooted at her, sticking its neck out and rolling its eyes. Tressa couldn’t help but laugh. It was the cutest thing she’d ever seen. Nerak had always been loyal to Granna, treating Tressa as nothing more than an oddity. She’d treated the owl in kind. Now they had something in common—a loss so great neither knew how to go on.
Nerak inched closer and closer until a claw rested on the tip of Tressa’s finger.
“Do you want to say goodbye to me?” Tressa smiled. The owl hooted and moved fully onto Tressa’s outstretched fingers. Instead of digging in hard, it rested lightly. Warmth spread through Tressa, radiating from her hands to her shoulders, then both up and down her body. She shuddered, drawing her arm back into the cottage. As soon as both her hand and the owl were back in warmth of her home, the bird jumped to Tressa’s shoulder. It nuzzled against her hair and pecked playfully at her braid.
A knock at the door startled her.
“Hey, Tressa, you still in there?”
Connor.
“Tressa?”
Bastian.
“You said you didn’t need much time. Everything okay?” Connor knocked again.
“I’m here. I’m just, uh, changing clothes. Putting on breeches for the trip.” Trip. She was probably changing her breeches just to walk into certain death. “Give me a few more seconds.”
Tressa pulled food and clothes out of her bag. Yanking the breeches over her legs one at a time, she cinched the waist under her dress, then pulled it down over the breeches. Sure she looked ridiculous, but not caring much at the moment, Tressa gathered up the little owl in her hands. “If you want to come with me, maybe you should hide in my bag.”
There were only a few owls in Hutton’s Bridge. They were looked on as a good luck charm. No one would want her to take Nerak with her, but Tressa needed every scrap of luck she could get.
Nerak didn’t argue, letting her lower it into her pack. She wrapped the food in one of her clean shirts, then placed it next to Granna’s friend. “Don’t eat any of that, okay?” She wasn’t even sure what an owl would eat. Hopefully not apples or bread or jerky.
She flipped the flap over the top and secured it with a small toggle. The owl didn’t protest. She patted the top of the bag. “Okay. You can come in now.”
Connor opened the door, Bastian stood behind him with his sword drawn. Tressa raised an eyebrow at their cautious entrance. “Something’s not right,” Connor said, glancing around her cottage. He raised a hand and Bastian lowered his sword. “We thought maybe you were being held against your will. You are okay, right?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Tressa tried to appear calm. She worked even harder to keep her eyes from darting to her pack. “When do we leave? Are we getting a proper send off or are they just kicking us out of the village?”
“There are a few gathered,” Connor said. “Hazel, my boys, a few of our neighbors, and some random others.”
Tressa didn’t ask Bastian if Vinya would be there and he didn’t offer the information.
“Ready? There’s no time left to waste. We need to leave, make it through the fog, and find a cure.” Connor ran a hand through his hair, confident. As if leaving was something easy and not a death sentence.
“Don’t forget coming back to save the village.” Tressa slipped her pack off the table and onto her shoulder. Nerak didn’t protest. A small pressure on her back, like nuzzling, told her the owl was as attached to her as she was to it.
Bastian cracked a small smile at the corner of his mouth. Tressa smiled back, forgetting for a moment that he was no longer her best friend and lover. She knew that smile all too well. A sudden rush of jealousy swept through her, wondering if Vinya had seen it too, or if that was only for her.
Connor opened the door. Bastian walked out first, the smile wiped from his face. Maybe Tressa had only imagined it. He motioned for Tressa to follow him out. They were being overprotective of her, probably concerned someone would still blame her for the plague. Tressa stepped lightly, careful not to jostle her pack with Nerak hiding inside.
The crowd had dwindled. She glanced to the square. The only remaining body was the dragon. The three villagers had already been moved to their final resting place in the fog. Geoff’s wife was gone and he wasn’t far behind. Their son would make sure someone knew and could care for the bodies the way they deserved. It was unlikely they would be the only ones who would need such help.
A group of ten people stood to the side, off by the fog, near the town square. Tressa recognized all of them. Connor’s wife and two children. Three elders. Three villagers Tressa vaguely knew. Udor.
Instinctively, she reached back, touching her pack. Nerak had to be quiet around Udor. She feared what he would do to her if discovered. Through the pack, she felt the peck of the owl’s beak. Acknowledgement that it understood? Whatever it was, it would have to do.
“This is it?” Tressa whispered to Connor. Normally the entire village showed up to say goodbye to those walking into the fog. Often, everyone from Hutton’s Bridge offered gifts of medicine, jerky, honey, or anything they could spare. “Their gifts won’t be enough.”
“It’s never enough,” Connor returned. “No one’s come back, no matter how much they’ve received.”
“You’ll received nothing today,” Udor told them. “No one is willing to help you. We’re only here to make sure you leave. Death awaits you whether you stay or go, Tressa. Connor and Bastian, I ask you to reconsider.”
“No.” Hazel stepped forward, her hand on the shoulder of her toddler, another baby in her crooked ar
m. “I will give what I can.”
Connor enveloped his family in his arms. “You’ll do no such thing. Save it for yourself and the children.” He glanced around the village. “You don’t know when you’ll need it.”
“He’s right, Hazel. Take care of yourself and your children, just like we’ll do for ourselves out there.” Bastian set a strong hand on her shoulder. The look in his eyes was grim, but Tressa noticed he didn’t look around for his own wife and daughter. Her heart fell as she realized he must have assumed they wouldn’t show. Coupling didn’t always produce a loving life bond, but she couldn’t believe Vinya wouldn’t even come to see him off.
Tressa nodded, mute. There was no one there who loved her. She and Bastian didn’t have the caring words Connor was getting whispered in his ear. She kept her eyes away from Udor, not wanting to give him one moment of her precious time. There wasn’t much left. Instead, she chose to focus on Bastian’s back. If she couldn’t tell him how much she loved him before they walked through the fog to their deaths, she could at least spend her last moments memorizing every inch of him.
Connor broke away from Hazel. He made eye contact with Bastian, then with Tressa. “Ready?” Always the gentleman. Always giving them a way out.
“Of course.” Tressa shifted from one leg to the other, surprised how heavy the little owl was on her back. Nerak couldn’t have weighed more than a few pounds. Or maybe it was the weight of knowing she was about to face the unknown. A shiver raced through her body, ending in a cold sweat on her brow.
Bastian sheathed the sword he’d been carrying at his side. He looked over at the fog, then at Tressa. He opened his mouth, but then closed it before he could utter a word. Tressa yearned to tell him to say something, anything, but held back. They’d said everything they needed to say to each other, two years ago, on the first night of their coupling. She knew she hadn’t changed her feelings and by the look in his green eyes, he hadn’t either.
Udor’s laugh scratched at her ears. “What are you waiting for? Afraid? Don’t be. Just step in.” He shooed them with his hands.
Connor’s toddler reared back, kicking Udor on the shin. “Don’t talk to my poppa that way. Shut up you mean old man.”
Hazel held back a snicker behind the baby’s head. “Why don’t you leave, now? Let them go in peace.”
Udor sneered, turning on his heel he stalked away, followed by three villagers. Only Hazel, her kids, and the elders remained. One of the older women stepped forward, placing a hand on Tressa’s shoulder.
She smoothed Tressa’s hair with her veined hand. “Sophia was an inspiration to me. I have gifts for you.”
“No. I have everything I need,” she responded. Tressa leaned over, kissing the woman on her leathery cheek. “Thank you, though.”
The old woman nodded, then with the help of the other two elders, walked away in silence. Tressa glanced at Hazel and her two boys. “It’s probably time for you to go as well.”
“No. My children will see their father leave as a hero. The baby won’t remember, but he will be told the stories to come in the future. He will know he was there, even if his memory doesn’t assure him. His brother will remember, though. I will make sure of that.” Hazel leaned over, kissing Connor one last time on the cheek. “Go now. Know how much we love you. All of you.”
Tressa’s head snapped up at that. She glanced at Bastian. Had Hazel said that only to soothe Bastian’s sadness at the absence of his family?
“Don’t be so surprised, Tressa.” Hazel laughed. “I knew the three of you were a package deal. I accepted that the first day with Connor.”
Tressa reached over, and squeezed Hazel’s arm. If she didn’t have a stowaway hidden in her pack, she might have hugged her. “You’re a strong woman.”
“I have to be to be married to him.” Hazel nodded at her husband. “Now, off with you. Do what you’ve come here to do. This is the least attended leaving ever, but you will be successful. I feel it in my bones.”
Tressa wished fervently she had some sight into the future, like Granna always claimed to have, giving her any reason to calm her pounding heart. Anything to tamp down the fear slowly rising from her toes into her chest.
Connor took Tressa’s hand, softly cradling it in his own. He nodded to Bastian, who took Tressa’s other hand. Instead of holding it palm to palm like Connor, Bastian laced his fingers with Tressa’s and squeezed. She looked up at him, forgetting for just a moment they were about to take three steps into the unknown. Into what was probably the end of their entire existence.
“On three,” Connor said.
“One.”
Tressa held her breath.
“Two.”
She let it out.
“Three.”
She lifted her foot in unison with Connor and Bastian, stepping into the unknown.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The damp fog crept up her body, starting with the first nibble on her shoes, slowly consuming her body. Tressa’s eyes were shut, hiding her from death’s grasp. Her breath caught in her chest.
She couldn’t hold it in any longer. The air slipped out her nose and her chest screamed for more. Tressa’s mouth fell open, taking in a misty breath that whispered in her soul. Alive. She was alive.
“Bastian? Connor?”
A squeeze to her hands told her they were alive too. Her whole body perked awake, rising from the dream of death. Finality no longer seemed something to fear.
“We’re alive. We’re alive!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
“She’s right.” Connor’s whoop of joy echoed around her. “But I can’t see either of you.”
“I can’t see you either, Connor. Don’t let go of my hand. Hold on tight. Bastian, are you okay? Say something?”
Silence surrounded them. She swallowed the bile climbing up her throat. Not Bastian. No. He had to be alive. She could still feel his hand in hers.
“Bastian?”
“Holy mother -”
Tressa burst out in laughter, cutting off his expletive. “You half-wit. I thought you were dead.”
“What? You don’t like holding hands with dead guys?” he asked her, joking. It had been a long time since Bastian had teased her like that. It almost felt like old times. Almost.
“Can anyone else hear us?” Tressa shouted again. They’d only taken a step. Hazel wasn’t far away. It would give her comfort to know they were safe. Bastian and Connor shouted the names of Connor’s children, but there was no response.
“Let’s move ahead,” Connor finally said.
“Can you see anything?” Tressa asked.
“Not unless you count dark mist right in front of my eyeballs,” Bastian said. Tressa imagined him squinting, trying to see more just like she was.
“So now what?” Connor asked. “Do you think this is always what happens? Step into the fog and wander forever in blindness until you die?”
Tressa shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Let’s keep walking.” Bastian tugged on Tressa’s hand and she yanked on Connor’s.
“Don’t let go,” she said to both of them. Placing one foot in front of the other, she staggered behind Bastian’s gentle pull. But Connor’s fingers started to slip out of hers. She squeezed, trying to get a good grip on him. “Connor! Don’t!”
“I can’t. It hurts. I can’t move any further.” His voice came out strangled, as if he couldn’t get enough air to finish his thought.
Tressa tugged hard on Bastian. “Don’t move,” she commanded him, but he continued to tug her forward.
“Something’s pushing me forward and I can’t stop.” His fingers started to slip out of hers too.
Tears streamed down Tressa’s cheeks. They couldn’t step into the fog, experience the euphoria of still being alive, only to have some unseen force tear them apart. A poking at her back reminded her of her hidden guest. Its talons clawed inside the bag, shredding Tressa’s back into fleshy strips as it struggled to get free.
&nb
sp; The pain was too much to bear. Tressa let go of both Bastian and Connor, blindly reaching behind her to unhook the toggle holding the bag shut. If she didn’t, Nerak would claw her to a bloody pulp.
With a beating of wings behind her head, the owl flew free of the bag. Tressa fell to the ground, weak, alone, and afraid. “Bastian? Connor?” She cried out for both of them, but heard nothing in return. They were lost to her. Was this how it was to be, then? How long would she last alone? How long until the fog claimed her, taking her last breath from her chest?
She called out once more for Bastian and Connor, but was only greeted by the oppressive silence of the fog. Maybe she was already dead, lost to the ether in a blanket of blindness and solitude.
A small beak nipped at her back, then the weight of the owl pushed down on her shoulder. So she wasn’t alone. Tressa reached up, ruffling Nerak’s feathers. If nothing else, she believed death hadn’t claimed her. Yet.
“What can we do now?” she asked it. The owl responded with a hoot. Warmth spread, a power unlike any she’d experienced permeated her whole body. A faint purple glow bathed the ground in front of her, illuminating her surroundings for the first time.
Trees stood firmly, asserting their claim on the forest no one had successfully traversed in almost eighty years. Dense fog wrapped its tendrils around emaciated tree branches reaching out to each other in a silent cry for help. Eerily silent, the forest was devoid of all life. Tressa shivered, more afraid now than before.
She rose to her feet, stretching out her full height, still feeling dwarfed by the trees. “What can I do with this?” She still not sure exactly what she was experiencing.
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