by Jim Galford
A tendril of light swept over Feanne’s head, startling her enough that she forced the children to the ground to avoid any chance of touching it. Estin’s dazed mind took far longer to register what was happening, but when he did, fear for the others took over. Nearby, he saw Varra begin to roll onto her side.
“The mists,” he whispered, trying to stand, but his body could not support him and his leg ground painfully where the bones had not yet properly meshed. “You three need to run!”
“Is time for new lesson. I am far from finished with you,” hissed Varra, sitting fully upright. She raised her hands towards Estin, beginning the motions of a spell, then was yanked violently backwards as the cloudy mists touched her.
It took only a moment and the mist had swept Varra up as though the mists were alive, gobbling greedily at her, even as she writhed, trying to pull herself free. While Estin watched, Varra was tossed sideways, then whisked away into the shifting cloud. As the last sight of her vanished, the rocks that had been at her feet were swept away, seemingly weightless.
Feanne shoved the kits towards the hill that Estin had fallen down, pointing at the top. They took off running, as she got up and put her arms under Estin’s armpits and lifted him slightly.
“The path down here is blocked. We must go the long way…and this will hurt,” she warned, then began pulling, not giving him a chance to argue.
The agony was unimaginable for Estin as his shattered leg dragged and each tug by Feanne wrenched his broken ribs. Even with her magic slowly healing him, her efforts to save him continued to undo much of the spell’s efforts.
Not even halfway up the hill, with tears rolling down his face, Estin watched as the mists closed over the spot where they had been, long glowing tendrils sweeping across the ground. Had he watched a living creature do that, Estin would have believed it was looking for prey that had escaped, but in this situation, the sentient-seeming motions were horrific.
“Leave me!” he begged, watching the mists begin to slide up the hillside, reaching and searching for anything it could clutch at. “Don’t risk the kits for me.”
“You never left through all the foolishness I’ve done,” Feanne grunted, sliding on the loose gravel and landing hard on her knees, but kept them from falling back down the hill. Without hesitation, she began pulling him again. “If anyone in this world has taught me what being a proper mate is about, it is you. I will not leave you to that thing and the kits would never forgive me if I did.”
Though the climb was slow-going, Estin was finally able to help somewhat by the time they neared the top. Far below, the mists were falling steadily behind. The higher they got, the easier it was to see that the mists now filled the canyon, consuming entire sections of the woods.
Even as Estin marveled at the destructive force of the mists, a tall old watchtower appeared at the far end of the canyon, seemingly forming from nowhere. It did not fall into place, but just suddenly was there, as if it had been built on that spot.
“This way,” Feanne told both the kits and Estin, pointing up the narrow cliff-side path. “It should take us over the mists for now.”
The group hurried to the two foot wide walkway, turning sideways as they reached it. Estin was able to hop on one foot up to the edge, but hesitated at the narrow perch, knowing that it would be a long while before his other leg could hold his weight.
“Just go,” Feanne insisted, pushing him ahead of her, but clutching his hand tightly. “You will not fall.”
Estin took a long breath, then began hobbling onto the ledge, using his free hand to balance himself against the wall. He attempted to counter-balance himself with his tail, but it flopped over the edge of the path, the muscles not responding. For all the healing he had gone through already, his body was still broken and uncooperative.
Hating himself for his weakness at such a crucial moment in saving his family, Estin pushed himself forward, struggling to keep himself going. The pain in his leg made him stumble every step, nearly taking him over the edge. Whenever he got too close to tumbling, Feanne would hold him back, making him stop until he could stand comfortably again. Compounding the difficulty, the stones were damp and every so often, Estin’s hand would slip off the cliff wall, making him panic for a moment, until he was sure that he had not fully lost his balance.
“Take your time,” offered Feanne, but when Estin looked back at her, the mists were just reaching the top of the hill behind her, flowing up and onto the ledge.
At the far end of the path, the kits stopped where the trail widened then split, offering several different directions. They turned around and watched nervously, flinching each time Estin stumbled.
Though it took a goodly amount of time, Estin finally reached the far side, putting just a touch of weight on his broken leg. It could not hold him up, but he could at least put the foot on the ground and apply some pressure.
“Down that way,” Feanne ordered the kits, pointing at the long trail that descended into the wilds. “It will curve, but lead us around this mountain towards where we were taking the rest of the pack.”
Oria and Atall ran off, scouting ahead, while Feanne pulled Estin’s arm over her shoulders to support him and hurry them both along. Working together, they made good time down the trail, though the kits were far out of sight within seconds, darting in and out of the rocks and sparse trees to check for danger.
Ten minutes down the animal path, Feanne brought them to a stop as Atall came running back with Oria not far behind, waving his hands to warn them.
“Turessian!” he announced, motioning for them to get away. “Coming this way!”
Estin clearly heard Feanne’s growl.
“You two, get to the upper path that we passed about five minutes ago,” she ordered the kits. “We will be right behind.”
Again, the kits ran past them, this time heading up a side path into the higher parts of the mountain.
“Where are we going, Feanne?”
She shook her head and sped up their pace.
“I’m not even sure anymore,” she admitted, slipping a little and nearly tripping them both. “I am running out of areas I know out here.”
They soon reached the upper path, Estin seeing the kits’ paw prints clearly in the wet dirt. He turned with Feanne, making their way painstakingly up the narrower trail, only to have the kits come skidding to a halt in front of them.
“We can’t go this way, either,” Oria said, her voice cracking. “Mists.”
Sure enough, as Estin gazed past the kits, he could see far up the trail that the glowing mists were spreading across the path.
“I’ll deal with the Turessian,” muttered Feanne, turning them around again. “I’d rather die fighting than running around in circles in the mountains.”
Moving back down the path, they passed near the end of the cliff ledge, then Feanne stopped and pointed back towards the ledge itself. She gave Estin a nervous look that made him not want to immediately follow her finger. When he finally convinced himself to, he saw the remaining Turessian sitting on the narrow path, his feet dangling in the air, even as the mists closed on him from the far side. Spread out on either side of him, a group of four blankly-staring corpses were sitting similarly.
“You,” the man said, pointing at one of the zombies. “Jump.”
As Estin watched, the zombie just leaned out over the edge and fell, bouncing once off the side of the cliff before vanishing into the mists. With a puff of the glowing cloud, the creature was gone.
“I know you are there,” the Turessian called out, not raising his head. “I doubt you will have any better luck than I in escaping. Fifty years I spent researching magic in Altis, yet today I am beaten by a cloud. I will stay here and do what I do best. Killing you serves no purpose. Run along before I change my mind.”
The man waved his hand again and another zombie fell lazily into the clouds, this time passing far into the mists before it vanished from sight.
“Interesting,”
mumbled the Turessian, his voice barely carrying to Estin. “One out of eight zombies and zero for two on spirits.”
“I’m not staying near that thing, or willing to take the time to fight him right now,” Estin warned, pointing back towards the path the Turessian had come up. “It’s the only way we haven’t tried yet.”
Feanne agreed, sending the kits ahead as she helped Estin down the descending path into the trees.
This time they were able to move a little faster, as Estin’s leg was supporting a portion of his weight, though it was excruciating to do so. Pain was hardly his concern though, knowing how dangerously close to an abrupt death they were at every turn.
After they had come the rest of the way down the slope and gotten well into the woods, Estin began to feel the ground tilting back up again as dawn broke dimly through the tree cover. From what he could recall of the scouts’ directions, they were likely getting into the pass between the next two peaks, which would then lead into another section of the range, where he could only hope the mists would not reach.
Atall was the first back this time, pointing at two different paths through the woods.
“Mists off to the left. No way around,” he warned, as Oria came skidding to a stop behind him. “The other way has caves that look pretty deep. They go the right direction.”
“Atall, you need to lead the way. Find us a safe path,” Feanne ordered, then turned to Oria. “You will watch around your brother for danger. His concern is the route, yours is anything that’s trying to catch us. I want you both far enough ahead that we can avoid any threats, but close enough that you can watch for us as well.”
The kits agreed and ran ahead, disappearing into the trees. Every so often, Estin would see a flash of red or a white tail, then they would vanish again, leaving him and Feanne alone as they slowly pushed on through the woods.
“The more I have them do, the less they will worry,” Feanne explained to Estin, helping him get over a grouping of fallen trees.
“Why are they even here?” Estin asked back, keeping his voice low. “I can’t tell you what to do, but why would you bring them, knowing what we faced out here?”
“I made a mistake in telling them that I was going to come back to try and save you, no matter the risk and that they would need to stay with Linn to be safe. The two little monsters latched onto my legs and refused to let me go, unless they could come too. They were worried about you and used my determination against me. In the time it would have taken me to pry them off, you would have been dead. They are learning quickly how to manipulate people…my mother would have been extremely proud.”
Estin laughed and watched as Oria bounded off a tall rock ahead and to his right, where she had been watching over top of Atall, getting a better view from the height.
“If what Varra said was true, the others know where our people are.”
“When the twins and I came back, the mists closed between us and the pack. Linn waving goodbye as those damned mists thickened between us was the last I saw of him. If the Turessians want the pack, they will need to go through the mists…let them. It does our work for us. Even if some get through, I do not know where Linn will lead the others. I made him swear to hide that from anyone until they had arrived.”
“You shouldn’t have come back,” he finally told Feanne, as the sheer wall of a mountainside began to become visible through the trees. “You should have saved them and yourself.”
“Their choice was their own, they are old enough for me to let them make it. As for myself,” she stopped talking for a moment, then added cryptically, “I have reason to keep you around.”
“Care to share?”
“No. It’s more fun to be vague and make you wonder. It might help convince you to stop trying to be left behind if you have to wonder.”
Up ahead, the kits were standing guard at the entrance to a fairly narrow cave. The two waited until they could wave at Estin and Feanne, then Atall ran into the cave, as Oria followed more slowly, watching for any threats.
“They’ll be good hunters someday,” Estin observed, knowing it was something Feanne had worried about before. Raising children in a village had been something she had confided in him as a concern, thinking perhaps they would be too used to civilization to handle themselves in the wilds. Feanne obsessed over their safety, even as she worried that they would be too soft to survive outside of her watchful eye. “They pay attention and watch each other.”
Giving him an amused smirk, Feanne answered, “Only if we live to see that someday. Worry about today, then we will worry about how well our children can hunt rabbits. Man-eating clouds, violent undead armies, the fall of all civilization, and so many other things are somewhat higher on my list of concerns.”
Estin started to smile, then turned and gave Feanne a confused look.
“Our? Does that mean that they…”
“No,” she said quickly, her expression clear that she had misspoken. “I have no idea whose they are, but they have known you longer than Insrin. You are who they look to as their father now for guidance, knowledge, and to tell me I am being too mean to them. As far as I’m concerned, their acceptance makes you their father. I will not allow any more of my children to lose the father they have waiting for them.”
Estin stopped, forcing Feanne to stop with him.
“Any more?”
She gave him a wry smile, then carried him along a little farther before saying, “They will be born before winter. So much for making you wonder.”
Estin was both exhilarated and terrified. The idea of his own children made him sick, thinking about the world they would be born into. Assuming they were given the chance to be born at all, he reminded himself. He could not find words to express his jumbled feelings, but Feanne looked to be more than willing to let him contemplate his thoughts.
Finally, as they reached the foot of the mountainside, Estin managed to suppress his fears and be genuinely thankful for Feanne’s honesty. He nuzzled her neck lovingly for a moment, hoping that it would not be the last time.
“Estin,” gasped Feanne, glancing back behind them.
Turning as best he could without putting all his weight on his leg, Estin saw that the first tendrils of the mists had begun to appear through the trees, inching their way towards where they stood.
“No time to waste, then.”
Giving Feanne a tug to get her moving, Estin hobbled his way into the cave, feeling the temperature plummet as the damp air surrounded him. It took only a moment for his eyes to adjust to the deep darkness of the caves and soon he could make out the kits farther down the passage, moving around quickly as they explored the depths.
Advancing farther into the dark cave, Estin found that even his vision was becoming limited. Feanne seemed to be in a similar predicament, keeping one hand out ahead of her to feel the edges of the walls. They had not gone much father before they practically tripped over the kits, who were standing in the middle of the narrowing passage.
“I can’t see,” whispered Oria, her voice echoing faintly.
“None of us can,” Feanne admitted, lifting the hand that was not in use propping Estin up. With a word, her hand began to glow faintly, just barely illuminating the dark tunnel.
From what Estin could see, the passage had been some kind of water-hewn tunnel that descended from the higher canyon behind them. That at least gave him some hope that there would be some exit at the far end, but cave-ins or other problems could have easily changed that.
Stretching far ahead of them and well out of the dim light’s reach, the passage continued onward, twisting and dipping around harder rock.
“Keep moving,” Feanne told them all. “The light will not last too long.”
Their group moved slowly, trying to keep their feet from getting caught up on the uneven floor and piles of fallen rocks. Time was impossible to guess at in the dark tunnels, gauged only by how exhausted Estin felt, though his injuries probably contributed more to that than
the walk.
Feanne’s magic had done wonders to repair the mortal damage that Estin had suffered, but he chose not to tell her that the spell had faded, leaving a fair amount of pain and bone aches. He could move, but not well. More importantly, he knew he would survive his injuries, even if he could not walk on his own yet. A day or two of rest, or a handful of his own spells would remedy that in time.
Winding through the passage, Estin brought Feanne to a sharp halt as his toes crushed something that had slightly more give than the rocks around it. Glancing down, he found himself with one foot on a pile of dried bones, partially-buried under fallen rock. They were broken from the stones, but he could make out clear signs of something having chewed on them, as well.
He looked up at the kits, who were out at the edge of the light, apparently unaware of the remains, though Feanne gave him a nervous look.
“Over by us,” he told them, keeping his voice as low as he could. “There’s no sense in scouting if we can’t see.”
As the kits approached, Estin moved forward with Feanne, keeping the bones behind them, where the children would not see them.
The next section of the passage took them far longer than the previous. Deep cracks in the floor and walls made for treacherous footing and created more than one situation where they were forced to quietly inch past sections in which the ceiling crumbled and dropped small rocks and dirt during their passing.
They traveled so long through the tunnels that finally Feanne’s magical light began to fade, surprising them all as the light faded into the inky blackness again. They hurried as it dwindled, then came to a sudden stop as the last of the light disappeared.
“Now what?” Feanne asked, sounding annoyed. “I cannot cast another.”
Remaining very still so as to maintain his balance on the rough floor, Estin blinking and stared into the darkness. Slowly, shapes began to appear as his eyes picked up a small amount of light from somewhere.
