Find. Love. Use. Magic.
Tressa started and looked around. There was no one but her and the owl on her shoulder. “Was that you?”
The owl tilted its head. Nerak. Good owl. Love. The owl bobbed its head up and down, nuzzling its beak into Tressa’s neck.
“Granna told me stories about communicating with animals, but I never believed it. No one in my village could do it. We thought it was one of those stories that gets bigger with time.”
Find. Love. Use. Magic.
“I don’t know how,” Tressa said.
Silence. Breathe.
Tressa closed her eyes, her eyelashes fluttering against her upper cheeks. She took in a deep breath, then released it slowly through her mouth. As the air passed over her lips, she felt calm float through her body. The magic took over forcing Tressa’s eyes open again and casting a purple haze over the whole area.
“Bastian!” she cried out.
“Tressa!” His voice was so far away.
“Bastian! Are you out there? Can you see the light?” She stumbled to her feet, still holding onto the owl with a hand.
“Yes!” he called back. “Connor? Can you see the purple glow?”
Tressa strained for a answer, any indication her friend was still alive and close by. But he didn’t respond. “Bastian! Try to get to me. Follow the light. Maybe we can find Connor together.”
“Don’t move, Tressa. I’m coming!”
She fidgeted. “Are you making that light?” she asked her owl. It bobbed around on her shoulder. She took that as a yes. “I’m not going to hide you anymore, okay? It looks like you may have saved us.”
She hoped, deep in her soul, that Connor was still out there. After a few tense minutes, Bastian’s outline took shape in the fog. Tressa reached out her hands. He grasped them tightly in his. When he tried to yank her into an embrace, she held back. Not with the owl on her shoulder. Maybe not at all.
“Tressa?” Bastian asked. He was still a shadow in the fog, even though she could feel his fingertips on her arm. “How are you doing that?”
So he could see the owl. “It sits there on its own. I’m not doing anything.”
“Owl? What are you talking about? I mean the light.”
Tressa laughed. “The light isn’t me. It’s the owl. Somehow she’s projecting it, helping us to see each other in this mess.”
She could make out the shadow of Bastian’s head shaking. “No, Tressa. The light is coming from you. From your eyes.”
“What?” She mustn’t have heard him right. “Not mine. The owl.”
“No, Tressa, it’s coming from your eyes. Not an owl.” He paused. “What owl?”
“You can’t see it? It’s sitting on my shoulder.” Tressa pointed with her finger, then realized that was ridiculous. Even Bastian was just a shadow in the fog. Of course he couldn’t see the tiny bird sitting on her shoulder. Even so, the glow had to be coming from the owl, not her own eyes. She craned her neck toward her shoulder. The purple glow was there, surrounding the little owl. She squinted, trying to narrow down the source of the glow to the owl’s eyes.
But as her field of vision narrowed, she could see the owl’s face more clearly. The glow surrounded Nerak, but wasn’t coming from it. The owl tilted its head, looking back at Tressa. She glanced back toward Bastian, noticing for the first time the glow followed her eyes wherever they lead.
“Bastian?” she called out. “Are you still there?”
His shadow became more apparent as he moved closer. “I’m here.”
“I think you’re right. The glow is coming from me.” She faltered, feeling like an idiot. “But I don’t know why, or how.”
“Who cares? It saved us and that’s all that matters. Whatever it is you’re doing, it brought us back together.” His arm slid around her waist, pulling her close.
Their chests touched, leaving no more than a breath between them. A slight pinch to her shoulder told her the owl was taking flight. The glow extinguished and Bastian pulled her closer. Not out of desire, but concern.
“I can’t see you anymore. Can you see me?” His voice was lined with worry as his arm tightened its grip on her waist.
“No.” Tressa shook her head, feeling Bastian’s hard chest against her cheek. He was so close, but even with her eyes wide open, she couldn’t see one inch of him. The fog was too thick, enveloping her sense of sight. Without the glow, there was nothing.
“It’s okay as long as we’re together.” Bastian rested his chin on the top of Tressa’s head. “Is the owl still on your shoulder? I don’t feel it.” His hand ran up and down her arm.
“No. It flew away when you pulled me closer.” She wanted to tell him she didn’t regret it because being in his arms was the only thing she’d ever craved.
“Call it back.” His breath lingered on her cheek. If she stood on her tiptoes, she knew their lips would be even.
“Here, Nerak!” She closed her eyes, remembering how she’d gotten the owl to come to her in the first place. “I’m going to let go of you, but just with one hand. Make sure you hang on to me, okay?” she asked Bastian.
His grip tightened more. Tressa held her arm out to the side and attempted to mimic the hooting noise Nerak made. A flapping sound cut through the fog. Hope surged in Tressa’s chest, confirmed only when she felt the familiar pinch of talons on her hand.
“I did it. She’s back.” Tressa bent her arm, bringing her hand closer to her body. The feathers brushed against her nose.
“The light’s not back,” Bastian said. “We need that to find Connor.”
“Well, she was on my shoulder the last time it happened. Maybe I should try that?” Tressa touched her hand to her shoulder and wiggled her fingers. The little owl’s talons shimmied from Tressa’s hand to her shoulder. The purple glow came back.
“I think you’ve got a magic owl there. Let’s see if we can use this light to find Connor.” Bastian kept one arm snaked around her waist. They stood side-by-side, hips touching. “Which way should we go first?”
A blood-curdling scream ripped through the air. Connor.
“This way,” Tressa said, heading off in the direction of the cry.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
They wandered through the mist, stumbling over their own feet. The light only gave shape to shadows in the darkness. Bastian held his sword out in front of them as a guide to keep them from running into trees. The screams had stopped as quickly as they’d come on, yet they pressed forward in the direction they’d believed to be right. Bastian was always sure of himself—except not now. The fog disoriented him more than he’d like to admit. For Tressa’s sake, he kept his mouth shut.
A splash was followed by a squeal. Tressa pushed back into Bastian, stopping him before he got wet.
“I think it’s a pond,” Tressa said. “Or maybe a stream. I can kind of see where it ends. Can you?”
Bastian squinted. The purple haze helped, but it wasn’t as illuminating as daylight. “I think you’re right.” He took a step in front of Tressa, his hand still on her waist. “Hold on. What’s that?” Bastian bent over, picking something up from the ground.
He turned it to the side. Hard edges crusted over with a dark powdery substance. He ran his fingers along the object. Leathery, bumpy, and slightly damp.
“What is it?” Tressa strained to see the object. “Bastian?” She touched his shoulder.
Apprehension bubbled up in his gut, churning like a volcano before an explosion as he ran his fingers over it. A hard surface, about the size of a bean, sat at the end of each of the five sticks.
He tossed the object into the river.
“What was it?”
Bastian turned to her. He could feel his face reddening and was glad the light was too dim for Tressa to see him. His cheeks puffing with uneven, deep breaths. “A hand.”
Tressa stumbled a step, but Bastian’s tight grip pulled her back to him.
He clasped her chin between his fingers, forcing her to look a
t him. “It wasn’t Connor.”
She shook her head free. “How do you know? Are you sure?”
A grim smile passed over his face. “I know Connor like he was my own brother. It was not his hand. I stake my life on it.” He gazed out over the little river, playing hide-and-seek with the fog. “But I don’t know whose it is or why it was along this riverbank. It was chewed at the wrist. I don’t know what broke the bone from the arm.”
“On our side of the bank,” Tressa said in a whisper. “Please tell me there wasn’t any blood. That it wasn’t, um, newly bitten.”
Bastian’s lips pressed together. “It wasn’t. We should keep moving.” He poked his sword into the water, measuring the depth. “It’s not deep. Let’s go.”
“Hold on. We can’t cross this while still holding on to each other. It won’t work. Let me make a rope.” Tressa grabbed a few vines hanging over the riverbank. She wove them into a quick braid.
Bastian tied one end around Tressa’s waist and the other around his.
“Let’s go. I don’t want to stay in one place too long.” He took one more glance around them, pausing a moment as he looked over Tressa’s shoulder.
“What? Do you see something?” Her voice was tinged with fear.
“I can’t see anything. I just don’t trust it.” Bastian stepped into the water, first one careful foot than another. He motioned for Tressa to follow him.
The water was cold, almost icy, enveloping his feet with a numbing wetness. Bastian tried to ignore it. The water slowly crept up her ankle to mid-calf. His breeches clung to his legs.
Within a few minutes, the water began to recede down his leg. Bastian stepped out of the stream. He held out a hand to help Tressa out, but she didn’t take it, or pretended not to notice it, as she emerged from the water.
“Now what?” she asked, bending over and wringing out the bottom of her breeches. “Should we try calling out for Connor again?”
A rustling in the trees broke their conversation. Bastian held a hand up, and then put his finger to his lips. Tressa nodded. He waved his hand in front of her eyes, pointing frantically at the owl. Tressa covered Nerak’s eyes, still not sure exactly how to control the power the owl was lending her. She shrugged a few times. Maybe if they were no longer touching, the magic wouldn’t flow through her anymore.
Nerak complied, hopping off her shoulder, snuggling back into her pack again.
The light extinguished and mist surrounded them. Bastian reached down for the vine. With a sigh of relief, he realized it was still attached. They wouldn’t lose each other again.
Bastian sunk down to the ground next to her, his arm circling her shoulders. His lips tickled her earlobe as he leaned in and whispered, “Something’s out there. I don’t know what. Maybe if we’re quiet, it won’t notice us in the fog.”
“Unless it can see through it, while we can’t,” Tressa whispered back in his ear, careful not to touch him with her lips. Bastian’s arm only held her tighter in response.
They sat still, hidden in the fog, their whispered breaths the only noise other than a faint sniffing sound. Tressa scooted closer to Bastian.
Another crack. Then another. Another. All going away from them, getting quieter and farther away with each broken branch and cracked leaf.
“Bring out the owl,” Bastian said. “We need to keep moving. If Connor hasn’t changed direction, we need to go the opposite way of whatever that was.”
“It’s okay to come out now. Are you afraid too? It’s alright. It’s gone,” Tressa said to Nerak.
Bastian heard the flapping of wings as the owl hopped up on Tressa’s shoulder. The world came alive again, bathed in that same unearthly purple haze.
“We have to find Connor before that thing does,” Tressa said. She stood up next to Bastian. His sword was drawn, at the ready.
“Then let’s go,” he said. They both tried to ignore the size of the footprints left by the beast. The indentations were large enough for the two of them to stand in together.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
After hours of searching, Tressa sat down on an old tree trunk. Its roots held it firmly in the ground even though the rest of it had died and fallen countless years ago. She rubbed her calves, trying to massage out the kinks after the hard day’s trek. Bastian sat on the ground next to her. He pulled off a boot and shook it over the ground. Pebbles and sticks tumbled out.
“We can’t just keep wandering forever,” Tressa said. They hadn’t found any sign of Connor. No more broken branches on the ground and the screams had stopped hours ago. “We need a plan.”
Bastian pulled a whetstone from his pack and ran it along his sword, sharpening it after a long day of using it to cut branches and vines. “Any suggestions?”
Tressa pursed her lips together. She didn’t have any idea what to do or where to go. “We can’t leave Connor behind. I mean, our goal is to get out of the village alive, find some kind of cure for the plague, and go back and help them. But Connor is our best friend.”
“And he’s the one who believed in us most. He knew we’d find a way to succeed. He wouldn’t want us to waste any time, especially if it means getting back sooner. He was so worried about Hazel and the boys getting sick.” Bastian sat back against a rock, sheathing his sword. He rested his hands on his knees and closed his eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Connor would want us to go on without him. Find a way out.” Tressa said it in a whisper. The truth wasn’t something she wanted to admit out loud, but it had to be said. She could imagine Connor telling them just that. “But at the same time, he’d never leave one of us behind.”
“And that’s why we won’t stop looking for him.” Bastian stared into her eyes.
The purple haze must have been disconcerting. Tressa could only imagine how she looked - possessed, unnatural.
“I’m glad we agree.” Relieved, she relaxed a little. The last thing she wanted was to leave Connor behind, but making the decision to put the village at risk while they searched for their friend wasn’t an easy one. She and Bastian needed to agree on this and they both knew it. “But how do we find him?”
Bastian pointed at Nerak. “Can she see in the dark like you?”
Tressa looked at the little owl, sleeping soundly on her shoulder. She stroked the feathers, waking her up gently. Her tiny eyelids flipped open and Nerak cocked her head to the side. “Can you help us find our friend Connor? Can you fly through the fog and help us figure out which way to go?”
Scared.
She buried her head in Tressa’s shoulder, turning her head to peek at Bastian.
“Please, will you help us?” he asked.
Tressa’s eyes grew wide. “Can you hear her too?”
Bastian face scrunched up. “Hear her? No, she’s obviously afraid. I can tell by her body language. Can you communicate with her somehow?”
Tressa nodded. It might be odd, but it was the only chance they had. “I can hear words in my mind. Just pieces of thoughts, but she’s definitely worried.” She stroked Nerak’s head, scratching her lightly with dirty fingernails. Tressa could only imagine what the rest of her body looked like based on the filth she’d managed to pick up. Bastian looked the same as he always did - a little messy, sweaty, and tired.
“Hey you,” Bastian tapped Nerak lightly on the head. “We need your help to find our friend. The sooner we get him, the sooner we get out of this foggy mess. All I need you to do is fly around a bit. Use your little purple glow to guide yourself.”
“How will she find us again?” Tressa asked, worried. She knew it was a good plan, but she didn’t want Nerak giving up her life for them either. If she got lost, or never found her way back, Tressa wouldn’t forgive herself. It felt like sending a child out to do an adult’s job. “Could you fly away and come back to us?”
Nerak tilted her head to the other side. See. Fly. Find. And after a pause, Afraid.
“I know,” Tressa cooed, “we’re afraid too. You don’t have
to do this. It’s not your battle.”
The owl’s eyes snapped open even wider, taking up the bulk of her snowy face. War. Coming. Save.
Her wings flitted out and Nerak took off in flight, leaving Tressa and Bastian hidden in the fog again. Tressa ran her hands around her waist, looking for the vine that connected her and Bastian. Hand over hand, she inched closer to him, not wanting to feel so alone in the enveloping mist. Her hand touched his waist and she left it there for only a moment until she slipped her hand into his.
“She’ll come back, won’t she?” Uncertainty laced Bastian’s words.
Tressa smiled a little, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see her. A man of action was giving over control to a tiny bird he’d just met. If the situation weren’t so dire, Tressa would have laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of it all. “I want to believe she will.” She held back the words Nerak had whispered in her mind. War. As if they didn’t have enough problems already.
“We should try to get some sleep while she’s gone. In this damn fog I can’t even tell what time of day it is.” He scooted a little closer to her, shoving a piece of fabric in her hand. “It’s my extra shirt. You can put it under your head so it’s not on the ground.”
Tressa held it up to her nose, inhaling Bastian’s scent. Memories flooded her mind and her body, reminding her of the short time they’d had together. She didn’t think he knew, but on their last day together, she’d stolen one of his shirts and kept it hidden in her cottage. She never washed it and on days when she would need consoling, she would hold it to her face and remember what it felt like to be his. To be safe. To be loved.
Tressa shoved it back at him, unable to let those memories overwhelm her. “I brought my own stuff. It’s okay. You use it.” She slipped her hand into her pack, pulling out a wadded up cloak. It worked just as well as a blanket, with the hood serving as a pillow.
Tressa lay down on the ground, wrapping the scratchy wool around her body and plumping up the hood for a makeshift pillow. She stretched out, flexing her toes to give her calves a little stretch before falling asleep. They’d done a lot of walking, far more than she was used to, and she didn’t want to wake up sore.
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