“Everyone. There’s already been a council meeting to address it. They plan to march out in the morning.”
Bastian bolted upright. “No. They can’t. They don’t know of the dangers or how to get out. They’ll all die.”
Adam nodded. “I told them as much. I urged them to wait until you were recovered. I assured them you would have knowledge they’d need to beat the fog.” He poured two cups of water and handed one to Bastian. “But they wouldn’t listen. The plague has elevated their haste. No one wants to be here anymore. People continue to die, three or four a day. We no longer hold public viewings. Despite the smell, the bodies are burned out behind the pasture. Our town is slowly dying and no one wants to be the last person standing.”
“I understand that, but death awaits them.” Bastian ran his fingers through his hair. “That beast is not the only enemy. I’ve met another.” He shuddered when he thought of the woman bound to the tree. He pounded his fist into his palm. “And there may be others. No one can leave unprepared.”
“What do you suggest?”
Bastian thought for a moment. He didn’t want any of his townspeople to die in the fog. He needed them to form an army. One that could find Tressa and one that could march against whoever trapped them in the fog. One that could stop Stacia from killing another innocent like Connor.
“We will train. In the shadow of death and plague, we will arm our men. They will learn to fight. We will train day and night until we are ready to march. No one else needs to die. Not under my watch.”
“You will have a hard time convincing the village of this. Their plan is to gather as much as we can carry and move into the fog like a group of wary refugees, taking our chances with the unknown to get away from the known danger of the plague.”
“Then they are fools.”
“I’m not arguing with you.”
“Tell me,” Bastian said, shifting carefully to avoid too much pain, “what happened to the dragon?”
“After you left, we took care of it.”
“Meaning?” Bastian’s head hurt, but he was desperate to know. Somehow it mattered to him.
“We skinned it. Divided up the meat. The residents of Hutton’s Bridge will feast on it for a long while.” Adam laughed and patted Bastian on the shoulder. “Lay down. Get a couple more hours of sleep. I promise I’ll have you up before they plan to leave. You can state your case then and hope a few are willing to listen to you.”
“Is there something in this water?” Bastian asked, his eyelids growing heavy.
“Of course. Now sleep, nephew. You need your strength for the dawn.”
Bastian drifted off, visions of Tressa lost in the fog racing through his mind.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Bastian stepped out into the village center the next morning. A crowd had gathered. Bedraggled children clutched the hands of their wary mothers. Men clutched garden implements, others held old weapons from the armory. They were preparing to walk into a massacre.
“Wait!” Bastian shoved his way through the crowd until he stood in the center. He stood on the slab where Sophia’s dead body had lain. “I’m the only one who’s gone out there,” Bastian pointed at the fog, “and come back. Well, other than my daughter, but she isn’t old enough to lead you. Will you listen to me?”
No one answered. Bastian wanted to scream. It was the same as the day he, Tressa, and Connor left. No one wanted to stand up for them. No one wanted the truth. He wondered for a moment why he even bothered.
Bastian looked out into their faces. The women huddled behind their husbands. The men didn’t know where to look, their eyes focused either on their toes or the sky. Pathetic. Every single one of them.
He pulled his sword out of the sheath on his hip. The metal glistened in the sunlight, except for the length of it stained by blood. There hadn’t been time to clean it. Just as well. Now they had proof of what awaited them in the mists.
“I lost someone I love in the fog. Do you want that to happen to your wives? Your children?”
Still no one made a sound.
Bastian refused to give up so easily. “I am the only one to ever make it back in the history of the fog. Do you think you will fare better? None of you were eager to volunteer when I chose to leave. Why are you so brave now?”
He waited, ready for a rebuke. Still, none came.
“All you’re doing is running from a plague. You’re trading one death for another.” Bastian sighed and sheathed his sword. He didn’t know how to make them see beyond their tiny understanding of the world.
“Even if you make it out of the fog, there’s an army out there, waiting to destroy us. They killed Connor. They will kill you too. Unless you learn to fight!”