Hidden (Book 1) (8 page)

They wandered through the mist, stumbling over their own feet. The
light only gave shape to shadows in the darkness. Bastian held his sword out in
front of them as a guide to keep them from running into trees. The screams had
stopped as quickly as they’d come on, yet they pressed forward in the direction
they’d believed to be right. Bastian was always sure of himself – except
not now. The fog disoriented him more than he’d like to admit. For Tressa’s
sake, he kept his mouth shut.

A splash was followed by a squeal. Tressa
pushed back into Bastian, stopping him before he got wet.

“I think it’s a pond,” Tressa said. “Or maybe a
stream. I can kind of see where it ends. Can you?”

Bastian squinted. The purple haze helped, but
it wasn’t as illuminating as daylight. “I think you’re right.” He took a step
in front of Tressa, his hand still on her waist. “Hold on. What’s that?”
Bastian bent over, picking something up from the ground.

He turned it to the side. Hard edges crusted over with a dark
powdery substance. He ran his fingers along the object.
Leathery,
bumpy, and slightly damp.

"What
is it?" Tressa strained to see the object. "Bastian?" She touched
his shoulder.

Apprehension
bubbled up in his gut, churning like a volcano before an explosion as he ran
his fingers over it. A hard surface, about the size of a bean, sat at the end
of each of the five sticks.

He
tossed the object into the river.

"What
was it?"

Bastian
turned to her. He could feel his face reddening and was glad the light was too
dim for Tressa to see him. His cheeks puffing with uneven, deep
breaths
. "A hand."

Tressa
stumbled a step, but Bastian's tight grip pulled her back to him.

He
clasped her chin between his fingers, forcing her to look at him. "It
wasn't Connor."

She
shook her head free. "How do you know? Are you sure?"

A
grim smile passed over his face. "I know Connor like he was my own
brother. It was not his hand. I stake my life on it." He gazed out over
the little river, playing hide-and-seek with the fog. "But I don't know
whose it is or why it was along this riverbank. It was chewed at the wrist. I
don't know what broke the bone from the arm."

"On
our side of the bank," Tressa said in a whisper. "Please tell me
there wasn't any blood. That it wasn't, um, newly bitten."

Bastian's
lips pressed together. "It wasn’t. We should keep moving." He poked
his sword into the water, measuring the depth. "It's not deep. Let's
go."

"Hold
on. We can't cross this while still holding on to each other. It won't work.
Let me make a rope." Tressa grabbed a few vines hanging over the riverbank.
She wove them into a quick braid.

Bastian
tied one end around Tressa's waist and the other around his.

"Let's
go. I don't want to stay in one place too long." He took one more glance
around them, pausing a moment as he looked over Tressa's shoulder.

"What?
Do you see something?" Her voice was tinged with fear.

"I
can't see anything. I just don't trust it." Bastian stepped into the
water, first one careful foot than another. He motioned for Tressa to follow
him.

The
water was cold, almost icy, enveloping his feet with a numbing wetness. Bastian
tried to ignore it. The water slowly crept up her ankle to mid-calf. His
breeches clung to his legs.

Within
a few minutes, the water began to recede down his leg. Bastian stepped out of
the stream. He held out a hand to help Tressa out, but she didn’t take it, or pretended
not to notice it, as she emerged from the water.

"Now
what?" she asked, bending over and wringing out the bottom of her
breeches. "Should we try calling out for Connor again?"

A
rustling in the trees broke their conversation. Bastian held a hand up, and then
put his finger to his lips. Tressa nodded. He waved his hand in front of her
eyes, pointing frantically at the owl. Tressa covered
Nerak’s
eyes, still not sure exactly how to control the power the owl was lending her.
She shrugged a few times. Maybe if they were no longer touching, the magic
wouldn't flow through her anymore.

Nerak
complied, hopping off her
shoulder, snuggling back into her pack again.

The
light extinguished and mist surrounded them. Bastian reached down for the vine.
With a sigh of relief, he realized it was still attached. They wouldn't lose
each other again.

Bastian
sunk down to the ground next to her, his arm circling her shoulders. His lips
tickled her earlobe as he leaned in and whispered, "Something's out there.
I don't know what. Maybe if we're quiet, it won't notice us in the fog."

"Unless
it can see through it, while we can't," Tressa whispered back in his ear,
careful not to touch him with her lips. Bastian's arm only held her tighter in
response.

They
sat still, hidden in the fog, their whispered breaths the only noise other than
a faint sniffing sound. Tressa scooted closer to Bastian.

Another
crack. Then another. Another. All going away from
them
,
getting quieter and farther away with each broken branch and cracked leaf.

"Bring
out the owl," Bastian said. "We need to keep moving. If Connor hasn't
changed direction, we need to go the opposite way of whatever that was."

"It's
okay to come out now. Are you afraid too? It's
alright
.
It’s gone," Tressa said to
Nerak
.

Bastian
heard the flapping of wings as the owl hopped up on Tressa's shoulder. The
world came alive again, bathed in that same unearthly purple haze.

"We
have to find Connor before that thing does," Tressa said. She stood up
next to Bastian. His sword was drawn, at the ready.

"Then
let's go," he said. They both tried to ignore the size of the footprints
left by the beast. The indentations were large enough for the two of them to
stand in together.

After
hours of searching, Tressa sat down on an old tree trunk. Its roots held it
firmly in the ground even though the rest of it had died and fallen countless
years ago. She rubbed her calves, trying to massage out the kinks after the
hard day's trek. Bastian sat on the ground next to her. He pulled off a boot
and shook it over the ground. Pebbles and sticks tumbled out.

"We
can't just keep wandering forever," Tressa said. They hadn't found any
sign of Connor. No more broken branches on the ground and the screams had
stopped hours ago. "We need a plan."

Bastian
pulled a whetstone from his pack and ran it along his sword, sharpening it
after a long day of using it to cut branches and vines. "Any
suggestions?"

Tressa
pursed her lips together. She didn't have any idea what to do or where to go.
"We can't leave Connor behind. I mean
,
our goal
is to get out of the village alive, find some kind of cure for the plague, and
go back and help them. But Connor is our best friend."

"And
he's the one who believed in us most. He knew we'd find a way to succeed. He
wouldn't want us to waste any time, especially if it means getting back sooner.
He was so worried about Hazel and the boys getting sick." Bastian sat back
against a rock, sheathing his sword. He rested his hands on his knees and
closed his eyes. "I don't know what to do."

"Connor
would want us to go on without him. Find a way out." Tressa said it in a
whisper. The truth wasn't something she wanted to admit out loud, but it had to
be said. She could imagine Connor telling them just that. "But at the same
time, he'd never leave one of us behind."

"And
that's why we won't stop looking for him." Bastian stared into her eyes.

The
purple haze must have been disconcerting. Tressa could only imagine how she
looked - possessed, unnatural.

"I'm
glad we agree." Relieved, she relaxed a little. The last thing she wanted
was to leave Connor behind, but making the decision to put the village at risk
while they searched for their friend wasn't an easy one. She and Bastian needed
to agree on this and they both knew it. "But how do we find him?"

Bastian
pointed at
Nerak
. "Can she see in the dark like
you?"

Tressa
looked at the little owl, sleeping soundly on her shoulder. She stroked the
feathers, waking her up gently. Her tiny eyelids flipped open and
Nerak
cocked her head to the side. "Can you help us
find our friend Connor? Can you fly through the fog and help us figure out
which way to go?"

Scared.

She
buried her head in Tressa's shoulder, turning her head to peek at Bastian.

"Please,
will you help us?" he asked.

Tressa's
eyes grew wide. "Can you hear her too?"

Bastian
face scrunched up. "Hear her? No, she's obviously afraid. I can tell by
her body language. Can you communicate with her somehow?"

Tressa
nodded. It might be odd, but it was the only chance they had. "I can hear
words in my mind. Just pieces of thoughts, but she's definitely worried."
She stroked
Nerak's
head, scratching her lightly with
dirty fingernails. Tressa could only imagine what the rest of her body looked like
based on the filth she'd managed to pick up. Bastian looked the same as he
always did - a little messy, sweaty, and tired.

"Hey
you," Bastian tapped
Nerak
lightly on the head.
"We need your help to find our friend. The sooner we get him, the sooner
we get out of this foggy mess. All I need you to do is fly around a bit. Use
your little purple glow to guide yourself."

"How
will she find us again?" Tressa asked, worried. She knew it was a good
plan, but she didn't want
Nerak
giving up her life
for them either. If she got lost, or never found her way back, Tressa wouldn't
forgive herself. It felt like sending a child out to do an adult's job.
"Could you fly away and come back to us?"

Nerak
tilted her head to the other
side.
See. Fly. Find.
And after a pause,
Afraid.

"I
know,"
Tressa
cooed, "we're afraid too. You
don't have to do this. It's not your battle."

The
owl's eyes snapped open even wider, taking up the bulk of her snowy face.
War. Coming. Save.

Her
wings flitted out and
Nerak
took off in flight,
leaving Tressa and Bastian hidden in the fog again. Tressa ran her hands around
her waist, looking for the vine that connected her and Bastian. Hand over
hand,
she inched closer to him, not wanting to feel so alone
in the enveloping mist. Her hand touched his waist and she left it there for
only a moment until she slipped her hand into his.

"She'll
come back, won't she?" Uncertainty laced Bastian’s words.

Tressa
smiled a little, knowing he wouldn't be able to see her. A man of action was
giving over control to a tiny bird he'd just met. If the situation weren't so
dire, Tressa would have laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of it all.
"I want to believe she will." She held back the words
Nerak
had whispered in her mind. War. As if they didn't
have enough problems already.

"We
should try to get some sleep while she's gone. In this damn fog I can't even
tell what time of day it is." He scooted a little closer to her, shoving a
piece of fabric in her hand. "It's my extra shirt. You can put it under
your head so it's not on the ground."

Tressa
held it up to her nose, inhaling Bastian's scent. Memories flooded her mind and
her body, reminding her of the short time they'd had together. She didn't think
he knew, but on their last day together, she'd stolen one of his shirts and
kept it hidden in her cottage. She never washed it and on days when she would
need consoling, she would hold it to her face and remember what it felt like to
be his.
To be safe.
To be loved.

Tressa
shoved it back at him, unable to let those memories overwhelm her. "I
brought my own stuff. It's okay. You use it." She slipped her hand into
her pack, pulling out a wadded up cloak. It worked just as well as a blanket,
with the hood serving as a pillow.

Tressa
lay down on the ground, wrapping the scratchy wool around her body and plumping
up the hood for a makeshift pillow. She stretched out, flexing her toes to give
her calves a little stretch before falling asleep. They'd done a lot of
walking, far more than she was used to, and she didn't want to wake up sore.

Bastian
lay next to her, not touching, but she could feel and hear him breathing. The
vine connecting them gave them feet of slack, but he didn't move away from her.

Tressa
was glad. She wanted him close. The fog was too disconcerting, too frightening,
and she wanted to wake up with Bastian within arm's reach. Exhaustion overtook
her fast, sending her off into a sleep filled with nightmares.