At least a dozen, and I gasped when my barrier rushed at them and flung back the closest two. They went flying, knocked into the air for a brief, breathless moment, before they thudded to the hard, compact earthhard.
Stop, I commanded.Please stop!
I gritted my teeth and pulled the barrier to a stop, my fist clenching out in front of me as if I could grip it. My forehead was dotted in sweat and my breaths were shallow. My arm was shaking, my knuckles white.
There was a clear path before me. Abreakin the fog. The Dakkari males seemed just as in shock as I was, but it was a broad-shouldered male with yellow eyes that stepped forward first. The two males that I’d knocked over clamored to their feet and immediately, I heard the hiss of swords being pulled from sheaths.
That sound startled me from my stupor. With a gasp, I began reining in the barrier, though I didn’t know if I had the strength to.
“Pyroth!” came a panicked voice. “Wait,kalles! Cease,darukkars!”
The male with yellow eyes held his hands out in front of him as if I were a spooked beast that needed taming. We were a long distance away from one another and yet I could see his eyes clearly. If they rushed at me, I’d have time to run, time to pull the fog back over their heads like a tidal wave.
I hadn’t known I’d walked so far west. I’d nearly been on the edge of the border when I began testing my control over the fog. And I hadn’t expected a small horde of Dakkari to be just on the other side of it.
These males were looking for the horde king. That much was obvious.
“Wait,kalles,” came the yellow-eyed male’s voice again, though it sounded softer. “Hanniva.Please.”
His voice accented the universal language more than the horde king’s.
“Please,” the male started again and I stumbled a step back when he took a step forward. The male immediately froze. “We just seek ourVorakkar. Where is he? Do you know?”
My lips parted. My tongue tapped at the roof of my mouth. And it wasn’t that the words were trapped. It was that I didn’t know what tosay. What todo. If Benn knew about this, if he found out, he’d kill me. I knew that as certainly as I knew that these males would do anything to find their lost horde king.
Taken. Their taken horde king.
Perhaps it was my shame but I began to turn away, suddenly panicked.
“Nik, wait!” came his urgent voice. “Please. At least—at least tell us if he lives.”
It was the desperation in his voice. Desperation I recognized well.
I looked at him, my lips parting. I tugged on my barrier. The fog crept towards the male and he cast the barest of glances towards it, his jaw tightening, but he continued to hold my gaze.
Who was this male? His friend? A brother?
“He lives,” I rasped to him, the words falling from me like a rough pant.
The male’s eyes went wide just as his brow furrowed. He took a step towards me again and I knew that it needed to end.
With a gasp, I pulled on my barrier and it collapsed all around me. I saw a blinding red as the fog swarmed, like a swirling cloud. An angry one.
I heard a cry of ragged frustration from the male’s lips, though it was muffled and muted.
I turned to run, just in case the male took his chances and gave chase within the fog.
“Rowin!” came his cry. “Rowin!”
The male was calling for the horde king, the name ringing out in the dense fog.
His name is Rowin?I wondered.
My lungs were burning by the time I reached the yawning mouth of the Dead Mountain open before me. Collapsing near the entrance, my back to one of boulders, I heaved in long breaths, feeling my arm tremble when I reached up to push back my hair, which clung to my forehead.
I feltspent.
Was this how the others felt when they ventured inside the fog for too long? This lack of strength?
