INTO THE MIST

Karigan drew the longsword of one of the sleeping soldiers. She’d dropped the colonel’s saber in Zachary’s tent when Torq attacked, and she was not going to be able to face the wraiths with only a longknife. Maybe she would scare them off as easily as she had before.

The mist stirred nearby and she looked up. A wraith drifted toward her, the ragged edges of its shroud floating in ghostly waves. She did not waste one moment, but leaped over one of the soldiers and clove the sword into the wraith. The shroud collapsed into an empty pile. She glanced around. A few others drifted among the sleepers of the encampment, but none approached or otherwise seemed to notice her. It was very odd when it was her magic that had drawn them to her before, but perhaps things worked differently for them outside the white world.

She must go to where the majority were clustered in the valley. She guessed that was where she was likely to find the travel device and the answer to removing them from her world. She adjusted the sword in her grip. It was not an elegant weapon, but serviceable. And heavy. Heavy enough that it would strain her still-weak back. There were many wraiths to battle. She took a deep breath.

And a second.

And then she dove into the mist.

I am not going to help such stupidity a second time, Nyssa informed her.

“I haven’t asked you to.” If Nyssa wanted to preserve whatever remained of herself, she would help no matter what she claimed.

Karigan crouched in brush, and hid among stray trees, as she passed through the valley. She stayed off the road where she’d be in plain sight. As she went, a whispery murmur grew in her mind, like background conversation she could not quite make out. The fog deepened the closer she got, but so far the wraiths had not taken notice of her, which she thought a little odd. Being outside of the white world must have definitely affected how they perceived magic.

It will not last, Nyssa assured her.

Karigan did not have to be told. She moved on. Soon the cloud became so thick she could barely see in front of her. The murmuring in her mind grew louder, but remained unintelligible.

The fog wafted a bit and she realized why it was so thick. She was surrounded by wraiths, so many more of them than she had expected. She froze, her heart hammering in her chest. She didn’t know what to do—move forward and hope they continued not to pay attention to her, or run. Everything in her told her to run-run-run.

Except Nyssa. You’ve a sword, kill them all.

All of them? There could be hundreds, and very likely any action would draw attention to her.

She forced herself to breathe again, tried to relax her neck and shoulder muscles. She resisted the impulse to flee and moved forward carefully evading the wraiths. It was a dance as she wove her way among them, being very careful not to touch them, going on her toes, or twirling around and sidestepping, for the wraiths were not motionless, but constantly wavering, drifting, apt to change direction with the slightest breeze or provocation.

Above the murmur in her head, she heard a familiar voice: “Do not touch me!”

It was Duncan.

“You are abominations,” he said, “and you should not be here on the corporeal plane.”

Karigan proceeded in the direction of his voice and almost stumbled over a body. She paused to regain her balance and throttled down a scream when she saw it was a Green Rider—Harry, his face peaceful, the gleam of moonlight glinting on the whites of his partially opened eyes.

It took another moment to regain her calm. He was just sleeping like the soldiers of the encampment. His chest rose and fell evenly and easily. Next to him slept Hoff. As the mist shifted, she saw others—Connly, Tegan, Brandall, all lined up like a row of corpses, all dreaming away. The wraiths must have collected them from the encampment to feed off of. If the wraiths were aware of their magic, why weren’t they aware of hers?

“No!” Duncan cried.

She shook herself and walked along the line of sleeping Green Riders toward his voice. She passed Trace and Sophina and . . . Ripaeria. Ripaeria slept with her beak tucked beneath her wing. And then she found a girl who was not a Rider, but Grandmother’s protégé, Lala. She, too, slept. Karigan had seen the fog up in the pass. Second Empire must also be under the spell of the whisper wraiths, and the wraiths must have collected all the magic users in one place to . . . what? Make it easier to siphon the magic from them?

Karigan’s grip on her sword quavered.

You can kill the girl now, Nyssa said. Be done with her.

Lala had stolen Estral’s voice, had helped in the torture of Zachary. She had helped to kill the soldiers stationed in the keep.

Kill her!

Karigan did not know if it was Nyssa or her own dark voice urging her. She gazed at the girl, no more than eleven or twelve, with freckles on her cheeks. Adolescence had not yet set in. As she slept curled in a ball, she exuded only youthful innocence.

Kill her!

Karigan wavered. If the girl had committed such monstrous acts as a child, what might she do as an—

“Put it down!” Duncan shouted.

Karigan glanced up to observe the wraiths closing in a knot around him. One clasped his thigh bone. Then a metallic glint near his feet caught her eye.

The travel device, she thought, and thus diverted, she left Lala and carefully began to pick her way in his direction. She must get her hands on the travel device.

The wraith holding Duncan’s thigh bone touched it with a tentacle. The tentacle pulsed with an icy gleam. Duncan faded out for a moment.

“You do not know what you are playing with,” he declared.

More tentacles from other wraiths reached out to touch it. Duncan faded out again. Karigan hastened her steps and he finally saw her.

“No—no, dear lady. You should not have come. It’s a trap.”

All the wraiths faced her as one, extended their tentacles toward her. Yes, Karigan, you have come to us and we will give you peace.

Karigan did not know if it was her or Nyssa who roared, or both. All she knew was throwing her body forward with the sword in motion, cutting off tentacles and arms and thrusting steel into shrouds.

“Well done!” Duncan cried. “You’ve got them now, dear lady!”

But there were so many of them, and this time they did not scare off.

They keened. The keening hurt her head and almost caused her to drop her sword so she could cover her ears, almost rocked her to her knees. In her moment of hesitation, the tips of tentacles touched her.

Sleep, Karigan.

A weakness seeped through her body. It would be so easy to give up, to give in, to sleep, but she heaved her sword at the nearest wraith and split it in two. She ignored the sharp twinges in her back and continued to hack at tentacles, but there were always more reaching for her.

A poison nail nicked her shoulder, the whispers seeped into her mind. Sweat slipped down her face.

And then there was a pause, a moment to breathe, and a clearing between her and the wraiths. They did not keen, and the whispers ceased. The silence was far more threatening.

“There are many more of them,” Duncan said. “You are valiant, but I fear you won’t be able to kill them all. They waited for you, you know, instead of trying to lure you in like they had before. They wanted you to think they could not sense your presence.”

She was too winded to respond, but he was right. There were too many, and her shoulder had gone cold with the venom. She needed some other way of— Just then, the toe of her boot nudged something. She took it to be a rock, but a quick look revealed the silver of an orb, the travel device.

You are ours, the wraiths whispered to her.

She looked up just in time as another tentacle reached for her. She cut it off, but cried out as crippling pain seized her back. Her sword tumbled to the ground.

The wraiths who had kept their distance, now sensing victory, formed up in a tight circle around her and Duncan.

“It was a pleasure to have known you, dear lady,” Duncan said.

You are ours, the wraiths told her. We would have given you years of gentle peace and sleep, Karigan, but you only harm us, so you will receive years of nightmares and torture instead.