Casteel let go of my hand, and I almost reached for it as I looked back, unable to see anything. “Do you think Setti will be okay?”
“He’ll be fine,” Casteel told me as he knelt. A flame sparked to life as he lit an oil lamp, chasing a way a bit of the mist. “I’m going to give him some feed and then a blanket. He’ll probably be asleep before us.”
I had no idea how I would sleep tonight. The surroundings made the Blood Forest feel like a luxurious respite.
Another lantern came alive, held by Kieran. “I’m going to grab some branches.”
Casteel glanced up. “Don’t go too far.”
“Yes, sir,” Kieran answered with far too much enthusiasm.
I watched the yellow glow of his lantern until it disappeared. “Why aren’t there any animals in these mountains?”
“They sense the magic and stay away.” Casteel unrolled a thick canvas, one designed to keep the cold and damp from the ground from soaking through. As he spread out one of the blankets, the mist scattered a bit.
“Here.” He took my gloved hand when I didn’t move, drawing me down so I was seated in front of him. “I’m going to take care of Setti. I’ll be right back, okay?”
I nodded. When he rose, I noticed he left the only source of light behind. “You don’t need the lantern?”
“No.” He started to turn and then stopped. “Don’t let your curiosity get the best of you. Stay here. Please.”
“You do not need to worry about me wandering off.” I wasn’t going to move more than a foot, and I didn’t after he went back to feed Setti and make sure he was comfortable.
But I did lift a hand, waving it through the tendrils of fog gathering around me. The mist dispersed, only to seep back to dance and swirl around the finger I wore my ring on. It almost seemed alive, as if it were interacting with my movements and not simply impacted by them. My eyes squinted as a wisp of mist coiled down the left arm of my cloak. I jerked my arm back, and the mist recoiled and stayed there, a foot or so in front of me, waiting…
Biting my lip, I stretched forward, extending my fingers. The mist pulsed and then slowly expanded, forming a stream that grew what looked like ghostly fingers. The hand flattened against my left palm.
I gasped and drew back. The mist responded in kind, mimicking my movements.
“What are you doing over there?” Casteel’s voice broke through the silence, seeming to startle the mist more than me. It scattered.
And then it struck me. “This isn’t normal mist, is it? The mist is the magic.”
“Yes,” came his response. “And you’re definitely doing something, aren’t you?”
I shook my head in wonder. “No…” I dragged the word out as the magic twisted toward the sound of Casteel’s voice. I rose onto my knees and stretched out, skimming just the tips of my fingers through the vapors. It shimmied. My brows rose. “Kieran said the magic here is tied to the gods. How is that possible if they sleep?”
“The short, very condensed version of a very convoluted reason is that even though the gods sleep, there is a level of consciousness still present. You already know that.”
I did.
“They created the mist to protect the Pillars of Atlantia,” he explained, and the mist turned back to him, as if it were listening. “But it’s basically an extension of them, or at the very least, an extension of their will.”
Something about being surrounded by a part of the gods’ consciousness was incredibly bizarre. “What do the Pillars of Atlantia look like?”
“You’ll see them tomorrow.”
“But—”
“Some say patience is a virtue,” his voice echoed back to me.
“Some deserve a punch in the face,” I muttered, but I fell silent. As much as it perturbed me to admit, Casteel was right. I eventually grew used to the mist or, more appropriately, the magic. I wondered though…if it were an extension of the gods’ will, then why did Atlantians trigger it? Then again, it had allowed the armies to pass through.
However, they were leaving instead of entering.
Casteel returned, as did Kieran. A small fire was lit, beating back the thickest of the magic. I took care of my personal needs, not far from Casteel’s presence, which was not something I cared to ever repeat, and no amount of intimacy or openness would change that. Then we ate by the fire. It wasn’t until afterward, when Kieran stretched out on the canvas that Casteel had laid down earlier, that I took a closer look at the sleeping arrangements.