They don’t really expect us to walk through this, do they?
Emlyn looks ahead at Taran, who’s dismounting his horse. “Not to us,” he says. “Just mortals—the Land’s way of keeping you out.”
Taran pulls his pack from the saddle. “Everyone dismount. The only horse we’re bringing through is Willow.”
“Why?” Ellie asks as he helps her down. She clutches his arm, unable to wrest her eyes away from the curtain of hatred.
“We won’t be able to use them once we get through—the terrain will be too rough. There’s no point in risking them getting lost in the fog, but Willow knows her way home.”
Emlyn pats my knee, reminding me to dismount. I find myself frozen in place the second my feet hit the ground.
He takes my pack off the horse and feeds my arms through its straps. “Is it really that bad?” He glances between me and the loathsome veil.
I nod, my mouth agape.
Emlyn turns back to Taran. “Are you sure this won’t hurt them?”
Taran’s lips press together as he looks from us to the blanket of certain death, then back.
“Taran?” Emlyn presses.
He answers slowly. “Not entirely. I’m not aware of a mortal who’s ever made it across.”
Does this guy ever think things through?
“Ancients, Taran! Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
“We don’t have a choice. If they’re going to help, they have to try.”
Fuck.I didn’t think I’d be so blatantly risking my life this soon. Maybe I should just accept that Caeo has a new life and I’ll never see him again. Find myself a job in a city far, far, away from this abominable place.
Grabbing Taran’s free arm, Emlyn yanks him out of Ellie’s grasp. Her hands clench into fists, her face white. They argue furiously in the Tongue, but it ends quickly, with Taran getting the last word.
Emlyn storms toward the horses, spouting more words in the Tongue as he smacks one of their rumps. They take off in the direction we came from, except for Willow, whose reins Taran grabs.
His green eyes focus on us. “You’ll need to stay close. Do not let go, no matter what. Understand?”
Ellie and I both nod slowly.
“One more thing—” the light in his eyes blazes like a wildfire. “Do not, under any circumstances, incant while you’re in there. In fact, do not incant at all within my realm. I’m telling you this as its monarch, not as a friend. I will not stand for any desecrating of the Land. Do you understand me?”
Despite my current feelings about incanting, that seems like a horribly unwise thing to agree to. My mouth, however, is having difficulty forming words, so I just nod. Hopefully, my couple of months of sword training will be enough if we run into any trouble. I fumble with the saber on my belt to make sure it’s still there.
“Hey, look at me.” Emlyn pats my cheek as he moves between me and the odious mantle of pure hostility. “I don’t know what’ll happen, but I’m not gonna pass through without you. If you don’t make it, I’m not making it. Alright?”
His golden eyes look different—the mischief is gone. My heart settles slightly, a warm glow shielding it from the fear. He grabs my hand, entwining his fingers with mine, then takes a step.
My feet are rooted to the ground.
“Try closing your eyes.” He takes my other hand in his as I do, and walking backward, he pulls again.
I take a deep breath and force my feet to follow.
Oh fuck.
Eyes closed, it’s obvious the instant I enter the storm. A blast of frigid air hits me, heavy and still, but full of pressure, even as the roaring sound of a torrential wind pounds against my eardrums.
My knees buckle under the weight of the Land’s hatred. Emlyn grunts as he drops one of my hands and wraps his arm around my chest, holding me up.
