Bastian lay next to her, not touching, but she could feel and hear him breathing. The vine connecting them gave them feet of slack, but he didn’t move away from her.
Tressa was glad. She wanted him close. The fog was too disconcerting, too frightening, and she wanted to wake up with Bastian within arm’s reach. Exhaustion overtook her fast, sending her off into a sleep filled with nightmares.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Awaken. Find. Hurry.
Tressa’s eyes snapped open. The world came aglow in a violet haze as Nerak sat on her shoulder. She reached out for Bastian, and was surprised to find he was holding her hand, their fingers laced together. She slipped hers out before shaking him lightly on the shoulder.
“Bastian, wake up. Nerak found Connor.”
He sprang to his feet, as if he’d been ready for an attack, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Pack up. Let’s get moving.”
Nerak bobbed her head in agreement.
Wiggling out of her cloak, Tressa got all of her things together, shoved them in her pack, and stood up. “Is he close?”
Nerak bobbed her head again.
“Have we been asleep long?” she asked the little owl.
Nerak’s head spun around, until her eyes were upside down.
“I’m not sure she understands that question,” Bastian said, laughing. “It’s impossible to know without any sun. Are you sure you feel rested enough to move on?”
Tressa stretched her legs, jumping lightly on her toes. A small cramp stabbed her calf, but she ignored it. “I’m fine. It’s most important to find Connor. The faster we go, the faster we’re all reunited. Can you show us the way?” she asked Nerak.
The owl bobbed her head, then flew off Tressa’s shoulder. “Can you see her? I can’t.” She ran her hands through her hair. “Nerak!”
A familiar scratch gnawed at her shoulder, then the glow returned. “How will we do this?” She wasn’t sure if she was asking the owl or Bastian.
Feel. Follow. Find.
Nerak poked her in the shoulder with her left claw, waited a few seconds then poked again.
Tressa turned to the left. “Is this what you’re saying?”
Feel. Follow. Find.
So she did. For a countless time, she followed every nudge of Nerak’s claw into her shoulder until she heard a light moaning ahead.
“Connor!” Tressa shouted. He lay on the ground, covered in leaves and branches, but his sandy hair stood out in the hazy glow of her magic. She ran to him, refusing to be quiet, not caring that they were probably being hunted. All that mattered was they’d found Connor thanks to Nerak.
She slid down on the ground, landing in the muddy leaves next to him. Tressa brushed his hair back from his forehead. Cool, which meant he wasn’t ill and didn’t have the plague. His chest moved softly, but slowly, up and down in measured breaths. “He’s alive,” she whispered over her shoulder to Bastian.
He sank down next to her, pushing leaves and sticks off of Connor. “Come on, buddy. We have to get you out of here.”
Tressa grabbed Bastian’s chin, forcing him to face her. “Where are we going to take him? It’s not like we have a safe place to hide.”
“Your owl’s going to get us out of here, just like she led us to Connor.” He pointed at Nerak.
“Do you know the way out?” Tressa asked her.
Nerak bobbed her head.
Close. Death. End.
“She says it’s close,” Tressa said, not looking Bastian in the eye. Even if death awaited them, it was better than living in fear in the fog. Any human enemy had to be better than the one she couldn’t see out here in the forest. She turned back to Connor. “He’s not waking up. But he’s alive. Can you carry him?”
Bastian nodded, scooping Connor up in his arms. His legs dangled in the air, and his head cradled on Bastian’s shoulder like a baby. The loamy scent of moss lingered around him.
“Let’s go,” Bastian said, his voice hard. “Tell your owl to get us out of here.”
“Ready, Nerak?” Tressa asked her. The little owl quaked, sending a light vibration down to Tressa’s shoulder.
Death. War. Blood.
“Okay, let’s go.” She ruffled Nerak’s feathers to let her know she cared, but they couldn’t stop now. Staying in the fog wasn’t an option. The only way out was through.
Nerak paused for a few moments, then squeezed Tressa’s shoulder with her right talon.
“To the right,” Tressa told Bastian. He was already sweating with the exertion of carrying his best friend. Bastian’s muscles bulged, straining against Connor’s limp body.
“Who knew he was so heavy?” Bastian asked, a slight smile on his face. “I’ll have to make sure he stays away from cakes for a while after he’s better.”
Tressa glanced at Bastian, knowing he was only trying to diffuse the situation. There was too much at stake. An unknown monster behind them. An unknown world ahead of them. Connor’s safety and health was their first priority.
They advanced on a tangled copse of trees so dense Tressa couldn’t make out anything on the other side. Nerak squeezed her shoulder with both talons, indicating they should stop.
Tressa halted and Bastian slowed behind her. She held up one arm and whispered to Nerak, “Is the end of the fog on the other side?”
Nerak bobbled her head and rolled her eyes. The owl quaked, even the little feathers on the side of her head vibrated in the air with the ferocity of a bumblebee’s wings.
Death. Death. Death.
Bastian’s eyes sought out Tressa’s. “Should I put him down? Carve a path through the branches to get us out of this nightmare?”
Tressa nodded. “Yeah, I’ll take care of him.”
Bastian laid Connor on the grass next to Tressa. She knelt down and took his hand in hers. “We’re almost out of here,” she whispered. “We’ll find out where the plague came from, get a cure, and go back and save Hazel and your boys. I promise.”
A small groan escaped his lips and a word that sounded something like Hazel. Tressa smoothed his hair and leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. Still cool. Even though he hadn’t shown any signs of the plague, she was cautious, concerned the fever just hadn’t spiked yet.
She looked up. Bastian was partway through the trees, his sword gleaming as he hacked away at the dead branches that sewed them into the mist. “Can you see?” She called out to him.
Bastian turned, nodded, then quickly went back to work, as if possessed. He didn’t falter, didn’t stop to rest, just swung and stabbed until a path formed in front of him. A ray of light burst through the trees. Tressa threw an arm over her eyes.
She stumbled to her feet and reached out a hand toward the yellow light streaming through the hole Bastian had created. With both hands, she carefully removed Nerak from her shoulder, letting the little owl fly above her. The purple haze disappeared, but the streaks of sunlight penetrated the fog, slicing it to bits and pieces with each stroke of Bastian’s sword. More and more streaks ripped through the air, obliterating the prison that held them.
“Connor, we made it!” She dropped down to the ground next to him. His chest rose and contracted slowly, still proving he was alive. But the catch each time he began to inhale told her he didn’t have much time left.
“Hazel called me. In the fog…” Connor’s voice trailed off. His eyelids remained closed. He lay as still as a leaf on a day with no wind.
“Bastian!” She called out.
He turned toward Tressa, raising his hand in the air and waving it back and forth. Then he went back to work.
The sunlight grew brighter. It crept over the dead trees and through the path Bastian hacked free. He sheathed his sword and stalked back to Tressa and Connor. Scooping Connor in his arms, Bastian and Tressa made their way to the edge of the forest.
Freedom.
At least she thought it was until she saw what waited for them on the other side.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Row
s of soldiers stood in front of Tressa. Twelve in all black, the rest in armor. Their eyes glared from within narrowed lids. Noses flared as they took the same measured breaths, their chests rising and falling in unison.
The woman in front took three steps forward. A ponytail swung from side to side, the ends brushing against the ground. Braided, her hair was as thick as Bastian’s leg, but far more dangerous. Sunlight bounced off of the spikes and metal shards woven into her dark brown braid. Her lips curled at the side in a smirk.
“We’ve been waiting for you. Come with us.” She motioned with two fingers.
Tressa didn’t want to follow the strange woman, but Connor needed a healer. She glanced at Bastian. “Should we?”
He didn’t take his eyes off of the braided woman. “Do we have a choice?”
“No, you don’t.” The woman sashayed closer, her hips swaying.
She was dizzyingly intoxicating. Tressa swallowed hard, resting her hand on Bastian’s lower back to steady herself.
“You don’t want to anger me. It would be a most unwise decision.” Her fingertip trailed across Connor’s forehead. A frown replaced the smirk. “He does not have long. If you don’t come with us, he will die.”
Bastian shifted Connor gently in his arms. “Then we’ll follow.”
Tressa put her hand on his arm. “Are you sure?”
“What other choice do we have?” he whispered.
She glanced at the forest, their town lost again in the deep fog. Nerak had flown away with the breaking of the wall of branches. Tressa didn’t know where else to turn.
“You’re right. But as soon as Connor’s healed, we need to leave.”
“And go where?” Bastian asked.
Tressa bit her lip. He didn’t know and now wasn’t the time to tell him. Not with the woman standing so close, eavesdropping on their every word. “Nowhere. I don’t know.”
The woman looked Tressa up and down. Tressa stood firm, tightening her core, attempting to look more powerful than she felt. “Lead the way.”
The woman pivoted, her braid flying out and nicking the hem of Tressa’s breeches. A sliver of fabric fell off in a clean line, floating to the ground
“Stay back a few paces if you don’t want to lose more than that.” She winked at Bastian, leaving her eyelid closed a second longer than was necessary. “I’m Stacia.” She swept an arm out to the side. “This is the battalion under my command. My elite Black Guard, the most feared soldiers in the five kingdoms.”
With a sharp snap of her fingers, the soldiers faced her. “We obey!”
Tressa raised an eyebrow and nudged Bastian. He shot her a severe look, then focused again on Stacia. “If you can help us find a healer for Connor, we will be grateful.”
Stacia smiled, her teeth glinting in the bright sunlight. She reached out a finger, running it along Bastian’s jaw. “I know just how you will repay me.”
Anger welled in Tressa’s chest. She didn’t have a claim over Bastian. In fact, it was still her intention to get him home to his wife and daughter. But watching Stacia feed on him, even if it was only with her eyes, was too much.
Stacia turned her back on them, motioning to her army. They stepped off in formation, marching away from Tressa and Bastian. Stacia didn’t look back at them, only marched beside her warriors.
Bastian leaned over and whispered in Tressa’s ear. “We have to play along if we want to save Connor.”
“How far are you planning on taking it?”
“As far as I have to. Connor’s life is all that matters now.”
She forced herself to face reality. She’d lost Bastian years ago. There would be no going back to what they once had. If he had to give in to another woman to save Connor, then Tressa would have to deal with it the same way she’d coped with Bastian’s marriage to Vinya.
With a heavy heart, she followed Bastian. They’d come too far. They’d escaped the fog that held them. There was nowhere left to go but forward.
Trees towered above them, so tall the world seemed to spin when she looked up at their heights. Dappled sunlight filtered down to them, giving light to the path they walked.
The base of a tree opened up, wider than five men and taller than two stacked Bastians. The army marched through uninterested in the landscape. Tressa paused to marvel at the heartwood inside the bark-covered tunnel. Darkness overtook her, but a light at the other end quickly reminded Tressa she had nothing to fear. At least not from the trees.
Emerging on the other side of the hollow was like entering a new world. Buildings and cottages built into the side of the giant trees cluttered the landscape. A tall building, the tallest of them all, stood in the distance, reaching up into the highest of the treetops. It was a castle. Tressa knew that from Granna’s stories. Perhaps there was a king and a queen. Maybe they would offer help to Tressa and Bastian.
Townspeople bustled, going about their activities as if the soldiers marching in pairs with three strangers was an everyday occurrence.
“Excuse me.” Tressa touched the sleeve of a passing woman. “What is the name of this town?”
The woman’s eyebrows furrowed. “It’s the Blue.”
“The Blue?” Tressa asked. “That’s the name?”
“Where are you from?” The woman looked at Tressa’s filthy clothes and then glanced at Connor, still knocked out, in Bastian’s arms. “Who are you?”
“Come along!” The woman yelled from the front of the procession. “No talking!”
Tressa dipped her head and followed the army into the world she’d never really believed existed.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The dancer’s hips flowed from side to side, lulling the drunken men into a trance. Bastian sat with Tressa, forcing his gaze from the woman’s legs. Tressa’s eyes were cast toward the rough-hewn table, her mead untouched.
Bastian looked at Tressa again out of the corner of his eye. He’d considered risking death more than once just to be with her again.
Tressa’s lashes flitted up, her eyes meeting his. “Are you thinking about Connor too?”
Bastian took a swig of mead. “Yeah,” he lied. “I wish they would have let us stay with Connor in the infirmary. Who knows what they’re doing to him.”
“Saving him, I hope.” Tressa traced a knot on the table with her fingertip. “After he’s well, what do you think that woman wants from you?” Tressa stared at his forehead.
Typical. Since they’d been uncoupled, Tressa hadn’t been able to ask him anything important without burning a hole in his forehead. She’d distanced herself physically and emotionally from him. It hurt him every time, but he couldn’t tell her that.
Bastian shrugged.
“Don’t act like you don’t know.” Now Tressa was staring at his hands.
“I’m not going to assume anything and neither should you.” Bastian took another drink.
“Why do you suppose she was waiting for us? Do you think others from our village have made it out here and never come back?”
“I have no idea.” Bastian glanced at the dancer. She’d discarded a few more articles of clothing since the last time he’d looked. With Tressa sitting across the table, he felt nothing but embarrassment. “We won’t get any answers by sitting here. Let’s go.” He tossed a couple of coins on the table. The physic said he’d been instructed to give them money and that they were to occupy themselves while Connor was examined. Bastian wasn’t sure if it was too much, but it looked similar to what others were leaving at their tables.
Bastian reached out for Tressa’s hand, stopping just short of her fingertips. The closeness he’d felt earlier dissipated after they’d stepped out of the fog. He wanted it back, but the walls had been rebuilt.
They were alive. There was a chance he’d get back to his wife and daughter. Reality resurrected the wedge they’d discarded in the fog. Not just for Tressa, but for Bastian too. He’d spent years perfecting the distance between them.
Tressa grabbed her bag. “Do yo
u think Nerak will find us again?”
The owl. Weirdest damn bird he’d ever encountered. He looked around the bar. Probably wouldn’t be the last strange thing he’d find outside of Hutton’s Bridge. “Don’t know. Maybe she was lost and is back with her family now that we’re out of the fog.”
“Speaking of family,” Tressa began. “I know you’re anxious to get back to Vinya and Farah. I’ll do everything I can to make that happen for you.”
He pursed his lips together. He knew what the right answer was, but he couldn’t bring himself to thank her. Missing Farah was a given. Seeing Vinya again wasn’t something he was sure he wanted.
“Let’s get Connor healthy enough to travel. We can ask the physic for medicine. Everything else comes later.” Bastian led the way out of the tavern into the bustling street. He felt Tressa stand a bit closer to him, but not close enough to touch. Her warm breath floated across his upper arm, quick and uneven. She was nervous too. Not surprising. Her incessant need to prove her independence concealed a delicate soul. He knew better than anyone just how vulnerable she could be.
That was the reason he wanted to wrap a protective arm around her shoulder, but he held back, knowing she’d never allow it.
“Back to the infirmary?” he asked instead.
“We were told to wait here for news.” Tressa wrung her hands. “But I say, yes, let’s go check on him.”
“Let’s go.” Bastian cocked two fingers at Tressa, urging her to follow.
Between jostled elbows and tiny, brown furry animals on rope leashes with eyes as wide as saucers, he and Tressa slowly made their way back to the infirmary. He paused outside the heavy wooden door.
Tressa grabbed the knocker, letting it thud against the dark wood. They waited moments before the door opened only a crack, a bloodshot eye peeking out at them.
“Oh, it’s you two again. He’s not awake yet. Come back in a few days.”
The door slammed shut.
Bastian balled his hand into a fist, pounding on the door. “Let us in. We want to see our friend.”
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