Then something worse emerged. Its face was disturbingly human, marred by patches of decay that revealed glimpses of bone. Its webbed hands, tipped with claws, twitched and jerked as it pulled itself partway onto the shore, its grotesque frame trembling with each movement. It crouched over its catch, tearing into the lifeless form with feral hunger. It ripped the limbs from the body, eating flesh and bone together. Blood sprayed across its hands as it devoured the small animal, which finally stopped twitching only after the creature bit its head off.
Sorcha’s lips parted in shock, her body reacting instinctively to the horror unfolding before her, but before any sound could escape, Kyron’s hand clamped over her mouth. His grip was tight and his breath brushed against her ear as he whispered urgently.
“Do not make a sound,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Whatever you do, do not even breathe too heavily, Sorcha.”
Sorcha looked at him and nodded, her voice barely a whisper. Kyron dropped his hand but stayed pressed against her.
“Can you get us out of here, Kyron? Can you use the mist again? I don’t know where we are, and I know you don’t either. But with those things down there and whatever was chasing us earlier, we don’t stand a chance right now,” Sorcha whispered into his chest, her head turned, pressed firmly against him.
Kyron looked down, silent for a long moment.
Sorcha’s stomach twisted as she waited for him to answer. Her mind racing to come up with solutions. The quietstretched until she couldn’t bear it, and just as she opened her mouth to speak, Kyron finally responded.
“If I get us out of here using the mist again, it’s going to take a lot out of me,” he said, his voice heavy. “It’s different when it’s just me and I know where I’m going. But this is different. Moving us through the forest, searching through all this expanse… it’ll take everything I have left. I’ll need you to help me ride back. You’ll have to make sure nothing follows us.”
Sorcha took in his words, the weight of what he was saying, settling heavily on her. She could see the strain in his face, she knew he wasn’t exaggerating. Still, they had no other choice. She nodded, her voice steady despite her fear.
“I’ll handle it. Just get us out of here.”
Kyron forced himself to his feet, his movements slow but steady. They walked back into the woods, away from the clearing, each step feeling heavier than the last. Before he began, Kyron turned to her, his expression serious.
“Whatever you do, don’t let go.”
She nodded again, and with that, he pulled her close to him by the waist. She hugged him tightly as he raised his hands and began drawing the intricate runes in the air. The swirling clouds arrived almost instantly, wrapping around them like a protective cocoon. It felt different this time; thicker, heavier, and moving slower. As they surged forward, the world blurred around them.
Sorcha could barely make out the shapes of the twisted creatures in the forest. She knew they noticed the movement, their heads snapping toward the sound, but it seemed they couldn’t see them. To the creatures, it must have been like watching the wind pass. The journey felt endless, the tension mounting with each passing second. Kyron’s breathing grew labored, and Sorcha could feel the strain in the way his body trembled beside her. Just when she thought they might not make it, the mist thinned, and suddenly, they were back on the hill where they had left their horses. Kyron collapsed, his body hitting the ground with a dull thud. Sorcha dropped to her knees beside him,panic coursing through her veins. She scanned their surroundings, her heart pounding in her chest, but they were safe. They had made it out of the woods. Cat poked his head out from the bag strapped to the saddle, his eyes fixed on the two of them, his expression almost unreadable. Sorcha swallowed hard and turned her attention back to Kyron. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Kyron, can you hear me?” she asked, her voice tight with worry.
Kyron groaned faintly and opened his eyes, though they looked heavy with exhaustion.
“I’m fine,” he muttered weakly, though his pale complexion and trembling hands betrayed him.
“No, you’re not,” Sorcha said firmly, slipping her arm beneath his shoulders. “Lean on me. I need you to try and stand. We’ve got to get you on the horse.”
Kyron nodded sluggishly, his movements loose and unsteady as Sorcha hoisted him upright. His weight sagged heavily against her but she didn’t falter. Step by step she guided him toward the horses, practically carrying
him. When they reached his mare, she braced herself and pushed him upward. Kyron managed to swing one leg over the saddle, but his upper body slumped forward the moment he landed.
“Hold on,” Sorcha muttered, already working. She tied Kyron’s horse to hers in a makeshift lead. Then she crouched beside Cat, who sat stiff and alert at her feet.
“Cat, I need you to watch the forest,” she whispered, urgency tightening her voice. “Warn us if anything follows.”
Cat blinked once, then leapt lightly onto Kyron’s horse. He curled along the saddle, eyes fixed on the tree line.Sorcha blew out a slow breath, muscles shaking with exhaustion, and swung up onto her own saddle. When she glanced back one last time, Kyron stirred.
His hands found her waist, fingers curling weakly into her belt as he rested his forehead between her shoulder blades. His breath warmed the thin fabric of her tunic.
“Careful,” she said softly. “You’re slipping.”
Kyron made a faint sound that might have been a laugh. “If I fall, you’re coming with me.” His voice was hoarse, a hint of teasing slipping through as his grip tightened.
“Comforting,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as she nudged the horse forward.
They started the slow, cautious trot toward Lumora. Behind them, the woods shrank into deepening darkness. Every snap of a twig made her tense, her gaze flicking over her shoulder as her breath stilled with each sound. Kyron heard it. Felt the way her chest rose and fell beneath him, the moments she held the air captive as he leaned against her.
“You’re listening so hard you’re forgetting to breathe.” His hand slid from her waist to her stomach, steady and warm. “In. Out. Humor me.”
She tried to scoff, but the heat of his palm anchored her, the tightness in her chest melting until she could finally draw a full breath again. She followed his rhythm with a long inhale and an even exhale.
