Could it be? Her wings fluttered, nearly lifting her off the ground. Sure enough, there it was: the barest hint of a trailwinding up into the foggy mountainside about fifty feet from the trident. A few branches hung low over it. Ropes of mossy vines zigzagged it, nearly hiding it from view, and a whole tree lay across the path just before it bent, but it was there.
“You think we should…?” She glanced at James.
The storm clouds that darkened his face when they’d discussed Lily vanished. Instead, he beamed with hope and pride.
“Only one way to find out.”
James called over the crew, and they hacked their way to the path. They were careful at first, stepping in each other’s footprints, trying not to leave much of a trail for anyone to follow. But after the bend the path narrowed considerably, until it was nothing more than a vague trail skinny as her. Each step took forever as they cleared limbs and debris out of the way. The witch’s vision hadn’t included a route back, so if everything went well, they’d be coming back through there again. If it didn’t…well, it wouldn’t matter.
Rocky sand gave way to soil strewn with old leaves and thorny bushes. Palms grew sparse, yielding to a variety of thicker trees, many laden with leaves. Some even held fruits that she had no name for. The vegetation was unlike any that grew in her homeland, and that blasted moss liked it just as much as the plants near the shore. Fog hung heavy ahead. Its tendrils crept down the hill to wrap around their boots and disguise much of the ground.
“The fog,” Tink whispered. It was the next clue.
James sheathed his blade and took her hand in his. “Stay close.”
“It’s like this all over,” Lily said, just behind her. “The slope near my camp too. I wouldn’t go in it. It just felt…wrong.”
A shiver raced down her spine. No kidding. The temperature had dropped. They still couldn’t hear any birdcalls, and even thehum of insects had faded to the occasional, annoying buzz. The land near the shore had been wrong enough—cursed, maybe. The looming fog was even worse, as if it had a ghastly life all its own that even the mosquitos were wise enough to avoid.
“Captain…” Smee paled as he pointed into the fog.
Tink followed the angle of his arm. There, among the trees, a small flame glowed. Gooseflesh raced across her skin. Fog swirled around the flame, but she couldn’t see the handle of a torch or anything hanging from the trees. It floated on its own, an eerie specter.
“Another one,” Sage said, pointing off to the right, the opposite direction the path wove.
“Might be a third there too.” James gestured to the left, just off the pathway ahead.
Light in front. To the left. Right is right.The witch’s words echoed in her head.
James looked down the line at each of them. “We go right.”
“Right!” Lily screeched, causing Tink to jump. “But the path goes left. We can’t go into the fog.”
“Care to go back?” James asked.
James…She silently reprimanded him, but he ignored her pointed look. He wasn’t wrong. It was either go back or follow the witch’s words, not that Lily knew.
“We’re with you.” Smee laid a heavy hand on Lily’s shoulder, causing her to stiffen. “Right?” He grinned at the double entendre.
“I just don’t think…” Lily protested.
“We’re going.” Tink squeezed James’s hand as she stared Lily down. She couldn’t blame her cousin. Every bit of her wanted to run back down the path to the shore, but they couldn’t give up now.
Lily sighed, then nodded.
Tink held her breath as James led them into the fog. Not that she could hold it all that long.
Whispers teased her ears, turning her skin clammy and causing her hair to stand on end.
It isn’t them, can’t be them. But oh, by Holy Flora, it sounds so real—like her parents might step out from behind a tree at any moment the way Lily had. Everything in her urged her to run into the dense mist.Go to them. They wait for you!
“Tink?” her mother called. “Are you there, darling?”
Mom!She bit her lip, holding in her cry. Her heart crumbled in her chest, leaving her aching, lonely, and longing for home. It was just like that time she got lost in the woods as a youngling. She’d gotten turned around somehow. Injured her wings and couldn’t fly. Tears had streamed down her face as she called for help in the fading light of day. It was her forest, her home. She was safe there, or safer than out in the world, but her young mind hadn’t understood that yet.
Hook’s hand tightened on hers, almost painfully so. Their connection brought her back to her senses.Not them. It isn’t them.
Tink stared up at the solid man in front of her. His shoulders were stiff, jaw set hard. Other voices called for him, no doubt. His mother too?
