Dragonlands(26)

"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


Rows 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.