"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.
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."