“Once we’re past the gate islands, a fog will appear. In that fog will be a light. It is absolutely crucial that I never take my eyes off of this light. If I do, we will be lost.”
Damion ran his fingers over the scars on his jaw, as if trying to smooth them away. “I had an uncle who tried to find Eris’s island. He never returned.”
Magda leveled her gaze at him. “Many do not. And not just because they lose sight of the light. There are other things in the fog.”
“What kinds of things?” Kaelan asked.
“All kinds,” she said. “Don’t go near the water.” She fixed a stern look on Honey. “Do you understand?”
Honey smiled more broadly, but her eyes were as blank as ever.
“The trick to dealing with whatever emerges from the fog is to remember that it’s not real unless you believe it is. It’s like a hologram.”
Damion’s eyes narrowed. “A what?”
She sighed. “It’s an illusion. A trick.”
“Unless we think it’s real . . .” Kaelan said.
“Right. So if a dragon emerges from the mist and you think, ‘Oh, no, a dragon!’ Then it will be a real dragon and will be able to hurt you.”
Kaelan dug his fist into his palm. “I don’t like the sound of this.”
She squared off with him. “Of course not. That’s the point. This is dangerous. But it will be even more dangerous for you if we don’t do this and find a way to disguise your true identity. Still, magic of this caliber isn’t available to just anyone and not every creature capable of it is willing to deal the way Eris is.”
He watched her again, in that intensely scrutinizing way. Had he always looked at her like that, or had it only started after he’d made her into his heart-place? She knew she needed to tell him, to explain, but she hardly understood it herself.
First, the witch.
The rest could wait.
“I’m not going to become an imp,” he growled at her.
“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes and turning away. “Damion, you’re with me.”
Honey skipped away.
Kaelan stalked after her, trailing a dark mood behind him like a cloak of shadows.
Damion strode over, twirling the crown around his hand.
“You certainly have a way with men, don’t you?” He plopped the crown onto her head and bowed. “Mistress.”
She snatched it off and tossed it away.
The fog thickened until she could barely see the end of her nose.
Anqa called from close behind them and Gur roared back, the two having learned how to communicate with each other at some point.
Magda’s clothes clung to her body, her hair to her scalp. The chill needled through the layers of her skin. Water dripped from her lashes, stinging her eyes, but she couldn’t blink. She couldn’t lose the faint point of ghostly blue light shimmering through the miasma.
“How much farther?” Damion asked from behind her. “The scent of wet semargl is giving me a headache.”
Gur growled. Prickly tingles flowed off of him. He, too, grew anxious.
“You can get off here if you’d like,” she said. “The waters below are guarded by sea-nymphs and not the friendly kind. Last I came, they nearly tipped my boat before one of my warriors placated them.”
“How?”
