I scramble across the ground until my feet trip on a raised root and faceplant into the earth. Kneeling down to her prone form, I reach her to move branches that cover her and toss them aside with a grunt.
Her head lays awkwardly, lulling off to one side as her blonde hair tinged with crimson drapes across her face.
Oh gods.
I begin to scream Caym’s name. Her chest slowly rises and falls, a stark difference from my own that sucks the metallic air in and out too quickly. My ribcage starts to burn and tighten.
“Caym!” My throat feels as though it’s shredding as I screech his name.
“Alora!” The Devourer’s commanding voice bellows from the opposite side of the trail, “get Dahla back.”
I can’t think as my gaze is plastered to Leeson’s darkening face and unnatural position. The familiar, sinister itch to weld my blade to my skin when I’m overwhelmed creeps up. The weight of my dagger in my cloak pocket grows heavier.
I chide myself, screaming at myself mentally.
“Damnit Alora, get your fucking horse!” The Devourer screams at me and it forces my eyes from Leeson. Turning my head towards him, it’s then that I notice the bubbly blood oozing from Caym’s screaming horse.
The Devourer focuses on me and asks, “Is she breathing?”
His gaze bounces between her and I.
Weakly, I answer, “It appears so.”
I swallow, but not before my eyes begin to well with unshed tears.
“Alora! Alora, focus on me.” His green eyes are a beacon amidst the storm.
He continues, never breaking his stare, “She has more time than Caym if she’s breathing, but I need your help.”
My tightened chest squeezes harder as I push to my knees and scramble towards him.
I slide on my knees, ripping my skirts on the gravely trail, as I reach Dahla who is shifting her weight between each leg.
“What do you need, Kassiel?” Firmly grasping Dahla’s reins, I flip them over her head and await his command.
He’s grown too still as he stands next to the fallen horse. “Your friend is under his horse, which happens to be in a pool of sinking sand.”
Any air that was left in my lungs deflates.
“What do you mean?” Disbelief threads within my question.
I peer over Dahla’s withers and watch the horse, its body slowly sinking. I scan for Caym and notice his body propped up against a piece of earth that’s sheared off the ledge of the embankment.
His legs are pinned beneath the panting mare.
Stepping around the front of Dahla, I look for any way to get him out without falling into the pit of sinking sand.
The Devourer stands to my left, just in front of the fallen horse's head.
Caym’s looking between me and him, his face pained and wincing.
I clear my throat and whisper, “What do we do?” The question is directed at Caym but he lays there, his eyes sharpening on me as they widen.
He continues to look through me. Confusion warms my belly and I turn to see what he could be watching.
The wall of mist has returned, the dark shadows of the forest looking more haunting against the thick white plumes.
“Fuck.” The obscenity comes from the direction of The Devourer and I glance towards him again.
