“I hope we have no trouble at all,” I say under my breath. None of them hear me. My mare whinnies and shakes her head. I pat her neck and give a soft shushing noise. “We might find it to be slow going through here.”
“They’ll calm once we get in the fog,” Davien says confidently.
“I doubt that, unless horses are different in your world than mine.”
“We don’t have time to coddle them.”
“I wasn’t suggesting to coddle them,” I mutter. There’s something about this place that has me on edge too.
“We’ll ride nose to tail so we keep visibility,” Shaye suggests.
“And hopefully we don’t encounter anything in the fog that would separate us.” I see Giles’s throat tighten as he swallows nervously. I wonder just what he thinks lies in wait for us on the other side of this magic mist.
“Just in case, take these.” Shaye hands out compasses to each of us. “As long as you keep heading north, you’ll either intersect with the old road that heads toward the Aviness keep by the lake, or the lake itself. Should we get separated in the fog, we’ll meet there as soon as we’re able.”
I’m familiar with compasses; as the daughter of a trader lord I’ve seen many. But this is unlike any compass my father ever owned. Instead of the spinning needle underneath a panel of glass, the compass is completely flat and made of wedges of crystal fused together by magic. The normal indicators of North, South, East, and West have been etched into the stone. The direction and facing is indicated by one of the wedges illuminating a ghostly green color. As I turn in my saddle, wedges fade and illuminate depending on where I’m facing.
“Are the cardinal directions the same in Midscape as they are in the natural world?” I know this isn’t the time or place for a lesson on Midscape’s geography, but I’m too curious not to ask.
“As far as we can tell,” Giles answers. “Which, make sense, given that the Natural World and Midscape were once one.” He looks to Shaye. “How do we know these will work in the fog? Isn’t it supposed to confound anyone not of Aviness blood?”
“There’s one way to find out.” Davien starts ahead. For once, I can’t read him. I don’t know if the fog is playing tricks with him, putting him on edge just like the rest of us—or if he’s merely eager to get to the lake, that way he can get the magic from me and we can be done with this whole affair.
“I’ll lead,” Shaye declares, riding in front of him.
“Shouldn’t I?” Davien sits a little taller in his saddle.
“My king, if they’re going to attack, I would rather they attack me first. That way I can buy you time to escape if need be.” It gives me some relief to think Shaye is planning for the possibility of an attack. “You’ll be after me, then Katria, and Giles will take up the rear.”
“Very well. If it is what the head of my future armies thinks is most strategic, then I will listen to you.” Davien falls into place behind Shaye.
At least he listens to someone,I think bitterly as I get my horse behind Davien, Giles taking up the rear, just as Shaye instructed. There’s a single moment of quiet hesitation. There’s no wind, no birds chirping, or crickets singing. Everything is still, with the exception of my thunderously beating heart. It’s so quiet I’m surprised they can’t all hear it.
“Here we go,” Shaye says softly. The silence breaking sounds like a scream. She moves forward.
Her horse struggles the second she tries to enter the fog. It shakes its head and stomps. Shaye forces it to carry on. It looks as though the beast is trudging through deep water, or sand, or tar. It’s obliging her, but every step is more difficult than the last.
Davien begins to have trouble as well, but it goes away as he crosses the wall of fog. The mist parts for him, curling like ghostly tentacles around him. I’m close enough that I can trail in his aura. Giles only seems to get the tail end of it, and his horse struggles too.
“Further proof that the real reason why Boltov never tried to take, or dismantle, the keep at the Lake of Anointing was because there’s no way he would be able to get an army through this fog. What’s the point of protecting something no one can get to?” Giles says. Even though he’s right behind me, his voice is distant and muffled. Space is stretched around us. What was once a condensed forest is now uncomfortable expanses of nothing. The ground beneath the horses’ hooves is muddy and rocky. Very little grows here.
“I suspect you’re right.” Davien appraises how the fog is parting for him.
“Let’s hope it’s not parting so you can embark on one of the horrible trials of lore,” Giles says.
“I told you not to worry about those tales.” Shaye’s tone betrays an eye roll. “I assure you that they were just invented to keep people away.” Even though she says that, it’s clear there’s magic in the air here. Even I can feel it.
It’s as if a thousand invisible hands are running over my shoulders and arms. I can almost see my clothes being pushed by forces I cannot comprehend. The air remains perfectly still, so I know it is not some rogue breeze that’s rippling the fabric.
“How do you explain the mist parting for our king then?” Giles asks.
“It’s likely a barrier, yes. But haunted ghosts keeping the Lake of Anointing safe? I doubt it.” Shaye’s steely bravery is unyielding. I wonder what would frighten the woman. I don’t think I ever want to meet it. “However, if you’re scared, you can certainly turn back,” she taunts.
Davien snorts. “We shouldn’t separate.”
“There’s no way either of us would really abandon you, Your Majesty. Isn’t that right, Giles?” Shaye twists in her saddle, looking back. I can see her face clearly as her expression goes from mischievous teasing, to wide-eyed shock, to panicked horror. “Giles?” she repeats with a whisper.
I look behind me. It’s only mist.
Giles is nowhere to be seen.
