Page 54 of Wanted: Rogues and Bards

So easily amused, this one.

Malfas came in closer. “It might be my imagination, but I think the fog is getting thicker with every attempt. Hey, Fen, I take it your sniffer isn’t helping you at all since you landed out here within a minute of going in. Any other bright ideas?”

“Not a one.” Fenric groaned. “Currently taking suggestions.”

“We advance farther with each pass.” Belstrom dusted off the seat of his pants as he spoke. “Quite tedious, but we should be able to deduce the path.”

“My concern is that it won’t matter if you do.” Hapi gestured gracefully at the fog. “I do not think simply following a set path would allow us to make it through. The magic will not care if we know the path. We’re missing another factor.”

“Ah, you make a profound point,” Belstrom said in agreement.

Personally, Fenric had a sinking feeling this wasn’t going to work and nothing they did would get them through that fog. Malfas wasn’t wrong; the fog was getting thicker, almost as if in reaction to someone deliberately trying over and over again to get through.

“We’re losing daylight, too,” Rain muttered, glancing up at the darkening sky. “Let’s do this: Fen, Bel, try for another hour. If you can’t make significant headway, pull back, and we’ll camp out here tonight and try to come up with a different plan.”

“You have proposed a sound plan,” Belstrom said.

Inside once more. Fenric returned to cat form so he could land on his feet. He had too many bruises on his ass as it was.

No matter how many times they attempted it, though, they couldn’t get any farther. Once they hit that eighteenth step, no matter what direction they tried, they were thrown back out.

On what felt like the fiftieth time of landing outside the fog, Fenric hissed and spat. His hackles rose and a low growl rattled up his throat. His cat instincts reared enough for him to think murder was a splendid idea. Just wait until he got his hands on the finfolk for casting this frustrating trap. He’d rend them limb from limb!

A rough hand touched his head and Malfas crooned, “Good kitty~”

Fenric snapped at his hand in warning.

“Oooh, spicy kitty.”

Giving up, he shifted back to human form and just sat on the road for a long moment, glaring at the fog.

“Stabbin’ hour,” Rain sing-songed.

“Stabbing hour?” Maxie repeated with confusion.

“Y’know, office hours, happy hour, stabbin’ hour,” Rain explained.

Malfas tacked on, “It’s a healthy work-life balance. Takes the edge off.”

“I would love for it to be stabbin’ hour, but I can’t find the creator of this damned fog to stab.” Fenric continued to glower. “Much as I wish otherwise, let’s retreat for now. We’re not going to make it through like this.”

“Finally,” Hapi groaned, leading the way back to the rented wagon. “I also do not suggest lingering here.”

“No, it’s not a good idea,” Malfas said, and for once the warlock was gazing at something like he had brain cells actually working. “The spell behind this fog is now on alert and might move toward our camp during the night if we linger near it. Let’s go farther away, out of sight of the fog, and rest there.”

It would mean traveling back down the road for a good hour, but Fenric was fine with that. He didn’t want to risk that fog getting in closer, and honestly, with his level of frustration, he didn’t want it anywhere within his sight, either. He wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if that was the case.

They loaded back up in the wagon and Hapi got the skele-elks going, the skelebabies clattering along on the road beside them, acting as a guard.

Malfas sat in the front with Hapi, but he was twisted sideways so he could look at the fog. “This is my first time encountering finfolk magic. It is far more insidious than I expected. It does make me wonder how Lord Mire managed to escape and send out word that he needed assistance. Rather surprising of him to have returned to his village as well, considering the negative gossip I’ve heard about the man. Maybe the gossip wasn’t true.”

“It’s likely the finfolk hadn’t solidified their hold on the village and gotten all their magicks in place when he returned,” Rain said, scratching his beard. “We’re encountering the magic at full force now because they’ve had time to fully build it.”

Fenric grunted. “But why go back? I’ve heard Mire is a coward and a bastard too. Not the type to risk life and limb for a bunch of poor peasants.”

Rain flashed him a devilish grin and bumped him with his shoulder. “Who says he went back for his people? Only one reason a craven man risks his neck.”

“Treasure,” Fenric and Rain said at the same time.