“No! Go back! Retreat, Torrent! We can’t fight it!”

His face elongates in fear. He must’ve seen the mist take another rider. More leg pressure, and Braxton gallops even faster. Torr turns to run alongside me. “Grab the girl!” I yell down at him. No matter who else makes it out of here alive, she must. All those who’ve been taken can’t die in vain. I see Lorna cut our horses loose before she mounts her own.

As I approach Lin, I lean down and extend my hand, which he grabs. I swing him onto Braxton and gripping my waist, he steadies himself behind me.

“What in the four hells is that?” he shouts into my ear.

I keep applying pressure, willing Brax to run faster. I’ve no idea what this unholy terror behind us is, and I’m not stupid enough to want to find out.

Torrent grabs Idalia and runs at full speed, even with her in his arms.

Lorna sees Torr and pulls on her mare’s mane to slow her pace. When Torr is close enough, she leans down. Torr grabs her arm and leaps onto her mount. Once he’s secure, Lorna stands on her mare’s back and leaps onto another horse galloping away from our camp. She lands gracefully, digs her heel into its side, and yells a command. We’re now riding abreast, five riders and three horses escaping across and into unknown territory. Don’t look back, I remind myself.

The sinister force crawls toward us, but I won’t encourage it. We must ride as fast and as far as our horses can stand. The Florian Wood is home to many mysteries, and I’m sure we just faced one.

The black fog. The Obsidian Mist.

The sun teeters on the horizon, and I’ve sensed that Braxton is near collapse for many miles. I can only imagine the exhaustion the lesser mounts must feel. For the first time, I look behind me.

A heavy release of tension rushes through me when I see nothing but dark green leaves and tree trunks glowing in the early morning light. The insidious murky darkness is gone. For now, I think. I pull back on the reins and signal a stop. Braxton almost collapses, and I leap off before his knees drive towards the ground.

We care for our mounts as best we can. These horses saved our lives. Lorna leans in close to her mare, whispering her appreciation. Lin walks a few steps into a small clearing and begins to gag, then vomit. Torrent still has Idalia tucked under one arm. She’s sobbing, from what I can hear. At least he took the gag from her mouth.

“Is anyone hurt?” I call, inspecting the trees behind us. Everyone but Idalia shakes their head. Then I hear it clearly. I whip my neck around to face her.

Idalia isn’t crying; she’s laughing.

Lorna, Lin, and Torr gaze at her as if she’s gone mad, but I manage a wry smile. I remember this about her. She’s a princess who laughs at inappropriate times and when she doesn’t know what else to do.