Dianna twisted in the saddle. The mist was creeping across the land, a wall more formidible than any wall of stone could be. She twisted back around and stood in the stirrups to look at the road. It was flickering now, fading. When it vanished, the mist would consume everything. Everyone.

“No!” She threw herself out of the saddle, heedless of the pain the movement caused in her arm, equally unaware that she’d shoved the woman with the babe to the ground in her haste. They would never find the bridges in all that mist, even if the bridges still existed. The shining road had to stay open long enough for them to escape.

Escape where? To a fast death rather than a slow one?

She didn’t know, didn’t care. She flung herself at the shining road, closing her left hand over that flickering shimmer.

Power flooded out of her, making her gasp. Down her arm, through her hand, flowing into the flickering golden air enclosed by her hand. Down, down, racing down until it touched something old, something that was still strong. The golden air stopped flickering as power flowed back up to her hand, her arm. Not filling her, not giving back as much as it took, but completing a circle.

More power flowed out of her, draining her strength before the circle of power sent it back. Different somehow when it came back. She could almost smell earth, almost hear the ominous rolls of thunder, almost feel the lash of rain that gave the land more nourishment than just water. Power, soaking back into the land, flowing back up to that bit of shining road to anchor Tir Alainn.

Gasping, weeping, she felt someone’s arm around her shoulders, felt a hand close around her left wrist.

“That’s enough now, Dianna. That’s enough. You did well, darling girl. You did well.”

With effort, she opened her hand. Watched it shake as she held it above a shining rope no more than three fingers wide. A Fae whose other form was a tiny whoo-it owl might be able to walk down that rope to the human world, but nothing else would be able to escape.

“You did well, Dianna,” Sorcha said again. “You’ve given us a chance to survive.”

Dianna just stared at the shining rope.

“Sorcha!” a man yelled. “The mist has stopped moving forward!”

She felt Sorcha’s forehead rest on her shoulder for a moment.

“What do we do now?” a woman asked.

Sorcha slowly got to her feet. “We survive. That’s what we do.”

“How?” someone wailed.