Over time, there was no sound except for the whooshing of the wind. Exhaustion overwhelmed him, coupling with grief. He fought to concentrate on catching the updrafts along the edge of the mountains and to keep on gliding. By his calculations, it would take a couple hours to reach Duskward. He had to stay awake and alert.
He reached around Cass and was able to feel her forehead. It was a little strange she hadn’t woken up yet. By now she would have certainly Turned if that were going to occur. If there was any similarity to Luron’s history, Cass should be conscious by now.
Her forehead was warm to the touch. Too warm.
He returned his hand to the guiding pole. He thought of those bright eyes. The flushed cheeks.
He was an idiot.
Sometime during the night Cass had taken ill, and he had never noticed. Maybe he had but he’d simply suppressed the truth in their need to escape. This complicated things. What was wrong? Was there a doctor in Duskward? What if she died?
He’d left the box behind to save Cass. Had he made the wrong decision?
No. He shook himself. He needed to get them to Duskward.
One step at a time.
Theo took in a deep breath. The Mist moved beneath him like a sea of greenish-grey fog while the sky above was a dull grey. He closed his eyes, uttered a prayer, and let go of everything inside him until all he could feel was wind, the subtle tugs of the air, and his feet dangling as he glided along the mountain range.
They would make it to Duskward. Cass would get better.
And together, they would continue to seek and discover the cure for the Mist and humanity.
About the Author
Morgan L. Busse is a writer by day and a mother by night. She is the author of the Follower of the Word series, The Soul Chronicles, and The Ravenwood Saga. She is a three-time Christy Award finalist and winner of both the INSPY and the Carol Award for best in Christian speculative fiction. During her spare time, she enjoys playing games, taking long walks, and dreaming about her next novel. Visit her online at www.morganlbusse.com.
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