Curse Breaker (2)

34

I grip the water container. "Is that..."

Killian snaps into motion, marching to where he discarded the tent. "Grab the other end," he orders. "Pin it to the ground with the pins."

I glance at the hill we came from, heart pounding. "We have to get back."

"Grab the other end, Freya."

"We have to warn the others!"

"By the time we get to the others, we'd both be engulfed in the cloud." The patience in his voice wanes. "Grab the other end. Now."

I follow his orders, pinning the corners to the ground with trembling hands as he pitches the centre with a log from beside the stream. Scrambling to get the water containers, I catch a glimpse of the fog. The crawl seems more like a sprint as it obscures the top of the stream from view, barrelling through the valley.

"Freya," Killian urges, grabbing my wrist and shoving me inside the tent. I pull my knees to my chest, trying to fit inside the claustrophobic space. My head reaches the roof of the material. Killian barrels in behind me, pulling the material shut and pinning it beneath the weight of the water containers to keep it in place.

"Cover your mouth and nose," he instructs, pulling a bandana from inside his coat and handing it to me. I secure it behind my head, watching as he does the same with a cloth.

Our knees knock together as we sit on opposing sides, the material of the tent rippling as the wind picks up.

"Killian," I whisper. "Killian, what if they don't--"

"They'll see it in time," he says. "Right now, we need to worry about ourselves." I wish I could have the same faith in her that he does. But his words do little to ease the anxiety brewing in my stomach. He looks at me, dark eyes serious. "Pull it higher, so it covers your nose too."

My fingers shake as I tug the cloth higher. The wind thrashes against my back, slithering beneath the gap in the opening and blasting it open. Killian swears, leaning forward to take hold of the material and pull it back in place. Over his shoulder, I catch a glimpse of the outside. The fog lingers only feet away.

"Killian!"

He pulls it across just in time, securing it with all three water containers this time and leaving his hand at the bottom. His chest rises and falls in a rapid motion as a large gust of wind ripples the walls around us before it falls entirely still.

Then, there's no sound at all. Not the trickle of the stream outside, nor the distant whisper of the wind, only the sounds of our hearts thumping in our chests. The eerie silence is evidence enough. We are submerged.

"Killian," I whisper. He sits with his back to me, still gripping the material. He doesn't turn. "Are you..."

Slowly, he releases his grip, shifting backwards. The lower half of his face, like mine, remains concealed by the cloth as he leans back to meet my gaze. We're mere feet away, but in the complete absence of noise, I can't help but want to shift closer.

I glance at the walls of the tent, completely still in the absence of wind. "Will the tent keep it out?"

"It depends how long it lasts."

"How-how long does it usually last?" I whisper.

He hesitates. "I don't know."

Shifting forward so his face is concealed from view, he puts his hand on the opening again, fisting the material.

Tugging my knees to my chest, I wrap my arms around my body. I've been in and lived through the cloud twice now, but that does nothing to dissuade the fear. My mind replays the scene in the forest, where I found Cadence with the rock in her hand--Raven's dead body, the crusted blood around the caved in part of her forehead.