Blowing out a breath, I spied one of my markers just on the edge of the invisible boundary. The glass shard, pointing back to the Dead Mountain. It was covered with a thin sheen of dust and I crouched to wipe it away, in preparation for the morning.
I needed to get back. And yet, a part of me wished to stay within the fog forever.
“Lo rune tei’ri,” I whispered, dragging my fingers over the earth. The fog didn’t move. It hovered. Waiting. Always waiting.
For what, I didn’t know.
Chapter Four
Irode from my encampment before the sun rose. The path towards the fog was so familiar to me now, and to Okan beneath me, for he traveled it without my lead.
How long will you continue this, Rowin?I pondered to myself.
I didn’t know. Until I had answers, at the very least. The fog was an enigma. Never had one been reported or written about in our planet’s history, as far as theVorakkarsknew. The priestesses of Kakkari, who lived in their mountain far to the north, where no male was allowed to enter, would know. They could give guidance.
But our messages to them had gone unanswered. As such, the horde king of Rath Okkili was traveling north this very moment, to speak with them. But the pass to their mountain was treacherous. It could be weeks before he reached them.
And they did not always respond to our calls for aid.
When I reached the edge of the fog, I didn’t hesitate. I walked into it until it enveloped me, like walking into a lover’s embrace. I felt it feeding off me the moment I entered.
Was Rath Okkili right? Was this Kakkari’s punishment? Or was it Drukkar’s wrath?
But for what? For the blood that was spilled at the Dead Mountain? For the white-haired sorceress that had used Kakkari’s heartstone? Or was our world out of balance? Was the earth sick?
“What is it that you want?” I growled softly, gritting my teeth, desperate for answers. “What do you seek from us?”
There was a rushing in my ears again. A buzzing sound that grew and grew.
Nik.
Voices, I realized, my heart thundering at the discovery. Or one voice speaking in many tongues at once.
I couldn’t be certain. I stilled, closing my eyes to better discern what it was saying. I thought I caught a thread of one but it slipped from my mind’s grasp, skittering away. I swore I caught familiar words. Familiar words in the old language. The old language which hadn’t been spoken for many, many ages.
A ragged breath escaped my lungs.
Whatever the fog was, whatever it was made of…it was anancientthing. The thought sent a chill running down my spine.
Then I grunted, feeling those voices swarm into me, seeming to slide around my bones, to speak to me from the inside out. The sound was deafening. Almost unbearable. Then came the pain of it. Jagged and hot.
“Tell me what you seek!” I roared, though I couldn’t hear my own words.
All at once, it went silent. The pain disappeared. In front of me, the fog hadretreatedfrom around me, leaving me standing in a small clearing, making me blink in dazed confusion even as I drew a lungful of much-needed breath.
Movement came to my right.
I whipped around, though disbelief made me freeze briefly.
On the edge of the fog, shrouded in wispy red tendrils, stood a female.
Ahumanfemale.
My hand shot for my sword on instinct, gripping the hilt where it was strapped behind my back, a growl rising from my throat.
I heard a hitched breath and the female stepped back quickly. Around me, the fog began to close in again.
“Pyroth!” I rasped, trying to center my thoughts, for they were still jumbled from the fog. “Okkai, kalles.”
