Page 52 of Wanted: Rogues and Bards

Fenric lifted his empty left hand and rubbed his fingers together. The air was thick with condensation, but it didn’t feel poisonous or otherwise deadly.

Silence reigned in the forest. There were no sounds of animal life at all, as if they’d fallen mute with the fog. Or the animals were in hiding because something bigger and scarier lurked nearby.

Thankfully, the rest of the group entered the fog a moment later. They paused only long enough to confirm no one was dying or rotting or melting or anything else ghastly.

“So, which way?” Hapi inquired.

“According to the map, straight north from here.”

“Okay. Malfas, take the lead. I’ll take point with Malfas. Rain and Hapi, cover our rear. Belstrom, on Malfas’s left. Puppy, you stay in the center.” Fenric spat out directions and everyone jumped to fall into position. Their way forward sounded easy enough, but Fenric was prepared for anything.

But it wasn’t enough.

They’d made it no more than a handful of steps into the fog when a brutal force slammed into the center of Fenric’s chest. The air rushed out of his lungs, and he flew through the air. In the blink of an eye, he landed hard on the ground, ass bruised and chest sore. He blinked to find the others landing around him.

At a glance, they were back on the road next to a dry riverbed.

“Are…are we back where we started?” Hapi asked.

“What the fuck was that?” Fenric snapped. He sat up and looked around to see the others also sitting up, their clothes and hair disheveled from their flight through the air. Maxie was leaning on his left hip and rubbing his ass, his face twisted in a pained wince.

“We are back,” Rain said. He pointed at a brown apple core. “Bel was eating apples all this morning and dropping his cores.”

“Fuck!” Fenric shouted. He should have known this would be harder than expected, and they weren’t even at the manor yet.

Fenric climbed to his feet and eyed the very thick mist around the area with a scowl. Rain came to stand at his shoulder, frowning as he panned his head. “Last time I saw fog this thick, I was sixteen. Had to drop anchor right where I was or risk scuttling the ship. It lasted three days before the thrice-benighted mage who had cast the spell finally took it off again.”

This wasn’t the first story he’d heard Rain mention from that period of time. “Rain, out of curiosity, did you have a single day of peace when you were sixteen?”

“Not that I recall,” he said with a chuckle. “Seventeen wasn’t much better.”

“It’s really a miracle you survived into adulthood.”

“It really is,” Rain agreed, laughing harder.

“Earlier, when Mal mentioned that finfolk had magic, I was imagining something more to do with fighting in water or even shapeshifting. Not fog.”

A soft grunt of agreement came from Belstrom as he approached Fenric. “Unfortunately, the information Malfas and I were able to uncover regarding these fiends was rather sparse and opaque. Your assumption is correct in that their magical abilities are aqueous based, which would include fog since the atmospheric occurrence forms when⁠—”

“Yeah, I don’t need a science lesson in the formation of fog. I need to know how to get through a magic fog. Right now, the price for this job and the heroes being willing to abandon the village is suddenly making a lot more sense.”

“You have demonstrated a proclivity for vexatious and laborious jobs,” Belstrom drawled.

“This one’s more personal in nature, as you well know, and how dare you rub my nose in past mistakes.”

“Fortunately for you, I have formed a hypothesis I wish to test regarding this fog. I am proceeding,” Belstrom suddenly announced.

“Whoa!” Fenric wrapped both his hands around Belstrom’s massive forearm and dug his heels into the dirt, prepared to hold the big man back, though he knew deep down that he wasn’t nearly strong enough for such a task. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes. I am eighty percent certain the fog will merely throw me out again if I advance in the wrong direction. I do not believe the fog itself possesses the ability to kill me.”

“Of course, that’s where I’m lucky enough to step in when you discover you’re wrong,” Hapi muttered.

“I’m coming with you,” Fenric stated, releasing Belstrom’s arm.

“Very well.”

Fenric blinked. Not a hesitation or breath of argument. Belstrom must really believe the fog to be safe. He looked over his shoulder at Rain, Hapi, Malfas, and Maxie. “Stay alert in case the finfolk are lurking in the area. Malfas, see if your god can think of any way to get rid of the fog completely.”