And in the morning, I rose as everyone continued slumbering and quietly snuck from the dark room, weaving through the labyrinth of the Ghertun’s fallen kingdom, climbing empty, eerie stairwells and echoing chambers, until a gleaming hint of sunlit red beckoned me from the Dead Mountain.
The mist reached for me and I went into it, determination steeling my spine. Like a friend, it embraced me. I breathed deep and my fear melted away. The tension in my shoulders released. The clenched knot between my brows smoothed.
Behind me, the Dead Mountain loomed though I walked forward. I walked for a long while until I knew that I would be completely safe. So deep inside that even Benn wouldn’t be able to survive the journey.
“Help me understand,” I whispered, stopping. “Please.”
The horde king had been correct. Ihadcontrolled the fog. I’d shielded him from it and I’d been able to easily manipulate its distance from him. It had been the only way to lead him to the Dead Mountain.
Closing my eyes against the endless sea of red, I curved my palms near my belly, imagining a small ball between them.
I’d practiced this before but it had always been…unpredictable.
I blew out a long breath and imagined the small ball growing with energy. I fed it, giving it myself, letting my own strength nourish it. My body tensed and I felt something push against me, something familiar. But it fought against me—it was struggling. I gritted my teeth, my nostrils flaring, focusing on building it, building it. I imagined it spreading from me, like a halo of safety. Of protection.
I only want to protect, I thought. Or perhaps pleaded. But pleaded with what or who, I didn’t know.
When I opened my eyes, I saw that I had created a barrier around myself but it was small. Still, the fog couldn’t reach me. It slid across the bubble, seeking an entrance, but there was none.
But it didn’t feel as effortless or easy as it had before. With the horde king, I’d simply…
Asked.
I hadn’t forced it then.
I slashed out my hand, cutting through the edge of the barrier, and it crumbled, dropping like rain.
I would try again.
Only this time, I wouldn’t fight against the fog. I would work with it.
Give me the room to breathe freely. Give me the clarity to understand. Give me aid so that I might make my choice clearly and without fear, I thought silently.
Then, tentatively, I imagined the shield around me again. I imagined it spreading out from my flesh, from the strands of my hair, from the tips of my fingers.
Like the fog, its spread was gentle. Soft. Like a ripple across a pond.
It was a question, I realized.
And then the fog gave its answer.
The shield pushed out from me and with a surge of energy, I envisioned unleashing it across the plains.
No, that wasn’t quite right. I envisioned unleashing itwest, hurtling it like a spear towards where I’d first encountered the horde king. I didn’t know why.
And then something happened.
That energy buzzed under my skin as I watched the barrier push wider and wider, until there was a clear path for me. West.
My eyes went wide as I watched it continue, as I focused on that energy, feeling it begin to snap and pull andhurt.
Then it burst.
The barrier reached the end of the fog and it had nowhere else to go. The energy continuedrushingout of me. I couldn’t control it any longer! It was growing too fast and—
In disbelief, at the end of the path, on the western edge of the fog, I saw Dakkari males.
Tall, bare-chested, strong Dakkari males.
