I didn’t have more time to ponder what it meant as Lydian stopped and put his spear down to mark the point on the ground. “All right, as Janneke has wonderfully shown us, the effects of the mist can be lethal to even a strong goblin or the stag. Time for a few rules. Do not ever look behind you. Whatever you hear, whatever drips down your neck, don’t look at it. You may see people who look similar to others you’ve known, friends, family, enemies, both dead and alive. Do not talk to or interact with them. If the person looks like one of us, check to see if it has a shadow. If it has a shadow, it isn’t us. Niflheim doesn’t have enough sunlight to make actual shadows. Last, but most important rule—sleep. You’re going to need it these next few days. We’ll all sleep for an allotted time in a place that’s safe from the mist. I’ll point them out, but soon you’ll know as well where to find them. You may feel the urge to wake up and stay awake all night due to anxiety, dread, fear of someone watching you, voices you keep hearing, etcetera. You must sleep. It’s the first defense we have in the mist. A tired mind is a vulnerable mind. If it’s not time or if it is time to sleep, I’ll say so, but assume if I don’t mention sleep, then you’re probably gonna have to stay awake. Do anything you can to help you stay awake, got it?”

Soren scowled, and I was sure I had a similarly displeased look on my face. Diaval nodded silently, and Rosamund grunted his response. Seppo cheerfully took the advice, gave Lydian a thumbs-up, and said “Got it!” in his usually chipper voice. Part of me wanted to hit him.

As we walked farther into Niflheim, the breeze got colder but luckily, less loud, and we were able to talk to one another if we raised our voices almost to a shout. But everyone was too tired, stumbling along with sleep in their eyes despite not getting very far at all; the cold itself tried to lull us into its warming open arms. Tempting us to stop and sit for one moment in its embrace as it curled around us tighter and tighter like a snake until it squeezed the life from us.

Everyone, but Seppo. Who, true to form, was making it a requirement to annoy the piss out of Lydian as much as he could without the spectral goblin lord killing him.

“Hey, so you know my mom’s with child again, right?” he called, as if he were speaking to all of us and not the goblin he wanted to torment.