"I don't think so," Drake shouted as the mist leapt over the ground before crashing down in plumes.
He and Caden shared grim looks, resignation on their faces.
Not all of them were going to make it, Eva realized. Not with how slowly the wagon was moving. There was little chance of it outrunning the approaching danger.
Even as she watched, Reece thundered closer. He wouldn’t reach the stragglers in time.
Ollie was on that wagon. Her first friend. The man who had made this life possible. He was injured. There was no way he would be able to escape in time.
Above, Sebastian wove through the white, tearing out of it as thin ribbons of mist streamed behind him.
The mythologicals didn't fear the mist. They played in it as the children had played in the snow this past winter. Whatever hold it had on humans, it didn’t have the same fear for them.
She knew without asking they would ignore any pleas for help. Not when they still referred to humans as mice. Ollie wouldn't even register for them.
None of them would lift a finger for the humans caught in its grasp—but they'd help her.
Eva came to a decision, not letting herself stop to question it. Sometimes you had to pick a course and act, and hope you were brave or foolish enough to survive.
She reached forward, slipping the headstall of Caia’s bridle forward over her ears. The entire bridle, the reins with it, loosened. Caia opened her mouth letting the bit slip out. Free, they started to veer from the others. Eva used her knees to guide Caia, the horse trusting her direction.
Noticing the reins he held were now uselessly dangling, Caden glanced back, his eyes meeting Eva's as her resolve firmed.
"Ya," she said, touching her heels to Caia's side.
Power surged through Caia as her speed picked up and they circled away from Eva's protectors before racing back the way they'd come. A roar tore from Caden, one Eva ignored as she focused on the wagon and the mist which was only a few horse lengths behind it.
"Fly, my friend. Fly as if you had wings," Eva whispered in a heartfelt plea.
Caia answered, bolting forward. For a split-second, it felt like flying was exactly what she did, the ground blurring past as they broke into a dead gallop.
The sound and fury of the chaos fell away, Eva existing in a single moment as Caia plunged under her, both woman and horse focused on that wagon. So many things could go wrong. She could be wrong. None of that mattered. Only reaching the wagon.
The mist reared up, its wave cresting before it crashed down over the wagon. Eva's hand brushed the wall slats as she sat back, Caia's rump nearly touching the ground as the horse came to a furious stop.
Caden, unnoticed until now, had reached her seconds before the mist engulfed them, his face a mask of fury that did nothing to hide the terror in his eyes. His fingers brushed her shoulder as the world fell silent and hushed. Everything from before the mist closed around them was muted, even the sound of the wind.
Caia blew out a harsh breath as she panted. Eva strained to listen. To hear.
The world felt insubstantial and faint, as if this was all a dream that she might wake up from if she only tried hard enough. That was a fool's belief. No amount of straining would make this disappear.
"What were you thinking?" Caden shouted.
"Shh, do you hear that?" Eva asked, looking around her in amazement.
The fear that had plagued her disappeared, leaving a kind of peace behind. A babble filled her ears, countless voices murmuring. They sounded almost like running water.
The rustle of wind through the grass reached her. Next, she caught the faintest whicker of a horse.
This wasn't normal. She'd heard the stories, listened to the pathfinders. She should have felt cold and disconnected as if the world existed behind a veil.
Instead, she felt something tugging her deeper.
Had Caden's warm hand not been on her arm, grounding her, she would have followed the call to the source.
"I hear nothing. That's exactly the point." His dark eyes were furious. If he hadn't put so much stock on doing his job well, he might have given into his urge to strangle her.
She frowned at him, the strength of the call fading under the onslaught of his personality.
