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 at 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.