He slid off the nightmare’s back when they reached the top of the valley. Weak, he stumbled and fell. His hands left bloody prints in the rocky soil from the deep gouges on his palms where he’d forgotten to hold the chain guard.
Looking down the valley, Ashok saw no movement at the cave entrance.
Not yet, but they would come.
He stood up. The nightmare waited silently nearby, his fire dulled but simmering beneath his flesh. Ashok felt the heat, the waiting. The beast wanted more of the battle.
“Let’s go,” he said but didn’t mount the beast. He trotted alongside, and they traced the rim of the valley back to find the others.
Black dust hung in curtains on the air, obscuring Ashok’s vision beyond a few dozen feet. Chanoch hailed him from a distance; he must have seen the nightmare’s stunted fire. Ashok followed Chanoch’s voice and saw them all huddled at the brink of a roiling darkness to the south. When he got close enough, Ashok recognized Negala’s bog, and the dust storm enveloping the surrounding plain.
“She’s cut us off,” Vedoran said when Ashok joined them. “We can’t circumvent the bog without trudging right into the dust storm.”
Ashok surveyed the group. Skagi and Cree were in the best shape of all of them-their wounds were superficial, but Ashok could see the exhaustion dragging down their bodies. They would be no good in a fight against the hag. Vedoran and Chanoch were one step away from collapsing from their wounds, and Ashok knew he looked no better to their eyes.
The most alert among them were the nightmare and Ilvani, who sat some distance away, watching the bog and the surrounding dust storm. Wrapped in his cloak, she dipped her head and peered into her satchel, whispering something Ashok couldn’t hear.
“Do we have any healing draughts left?” Ashok asked.
Vedoran shook his head. “It took all of them just to get us halfway up that tunnel. If that beast hadn’t shown up …” He looked at the nightmare, then at Ashok, with a strange mixture of awe and wariness in his expression. “Why did he come?” he asked. “How did he even know where to find us?”
“I don’t know,” Ashok said. “The nightmare seeks out death. He craves flesh. Maybe he knew that following us was the only way to get both.”
“It’s more than that,” Vedoran said. “That beast is connected to you. He knew to come for you.”
And I was never more his master than I was today, in that place of death and carnage, Ashok thought. I fed him as no one else could. The shame rattled through him. More than ever Ashok could smell the blood clinging to him. He tried to shake it off. He needed to focus, to find a way to get them all through the storm.
“What are our choices?” Skagi asked, coming up to the pair. Cree and Chanoch stayed close to the nightmare, as though drawing strength from the beast’s heat. He ignored their presence and whipped his tail impatiently.
“Fight through the bog or fight through the dust storm,” Vedoran said grimly.
“What are our chances?” Skagi asked, a smile pulling at his crooked lip.
“We’ll probably die in the dust storm or be killed by Negala when we get to the heart of the bog,” Ashok said. “Given the choice, I’d rather die facing an enemy.”
“My thoughts as well,” Vedoran said.
They turned and were surprised to see Ilvani standing near them. None of them had heard her approach.
“The green is calling,” she said matter-of-factly.
“The bog,” Ashok said, nodding. “A hag lives there.”
Ilvani looked at him as if he were a slow child. “It isn’t real,” she said.
“Real enough to kill us,” Skagi said. “Come on, we’re wasting time.”
Ilvani’s expression darkened. To appease her, Ashok tried to explain. “The witch created the bog in her mind and made it stretch across the plain.”
“Really?” Ilvani said. She looked toward the bog, and a strange expression spread across her face. An indignant look, Ashok thought, but for the utter coldness of her eyes.
She reached into her satchel and removed a sphere of blown glass. Sealed inside was a piece of what Ashok thought looked like red silk. The fabric rippled in an impossible wind.
“What is that?” he asked, but Ilvani put her satchel on the ground and strode away from him, past the nightmare, toward the bog. “Stop!” he cried. But she didn’t heed him.
He started to chase after her, but Vedoran grabbed his arm. The others hesitated as well.
“Wait,” Vedoran said flatly.
“She’ll be killed,” Ashok said, struggling. But he was too wearied to break the warrior’s grip. “What is that sphere?” he asked.
“If we’re very lucky, there’s magic in it,” Vedoran said. “Be still now.”
Ilvani took small, unhurried steps, Ashok’s cloak dragging behind her like an oversized shadow. Her bare feet were purple with cold. She walked with one hand gripping the cloak closed, the other holding the sphere out in front of her.
Ten feet from the first twisted trees, she stopped.
“Come out Negala, witch of the fell bog,” she called in a strong, clear voice. “Come to Ilvani, witch of Ikemmu.”
The dust storm continued to rage at the fringes of the bog. Ashok and the others waited in frozen silence. None of them had the strength to be stunned at Ilvani’s abrupt transformation. They could only stare. And hope.
Movement came from deep within the bog-a sudden, fast motion like a running deer. The trees peeled back under black shadows, and Negala the hag stood before Ilvani. Her hair curled in wet strands around her naked, withered body. She raised a spindly arm in greeting and smiled, exposing jagged teeth and an oily black tongue.
“You not called to Negala in long months, lesser one,” the hag hissed. Her amber eyes gleamed with malicious interest. “You brought a token?”
“A trade,” Ilvani said. “Your thoughts for mine.”
The hag cackled, her green skin flushing, and pranced from foot to foot in amusement. “Come forward,” she invited. “Gladly I show you my mind. How you frighten me in return?”
Ilvani stepped forward and held up the glass sphere between them. Eagerly the hag put her hands on the orb. They shut their eyes and fell into a trancelike concentration.
“Can she take that?” Cree whispered. “What if the hag takes over her mind? She could be lost in a storm just like us.”
“No she won’t be,” Ashok said, understanding at last what Ilvani intended.
“How can you be sure?” Cree demanded.
Ashok didn’t answer. He saw the hag’s forehead scrunch up in consternation. Her body began to tremble. She jerked her head from side to side and spat, convulsions wracking her body.
Lightning tore across the sky, and the black winds raged. The dust blew in cutting streaks, digging into their wounds. Having no cloak, Ashok covered his face with his hands. Through his fingers, he saw the hag bite her tongue and let out a pathetic wail. Negala’s head fell back, and black blood poured from her mouth.
Her arms fell from the sphere, and she faded back into the bog as the trees and brush reached out to absorb her. The green fell into itself and pulled back from the edge of the valley, consumed by the dust storm.
Ilvani stood amid the violence with her eyes closed. She put both hands on the sphere and raised it above her head. It glowed brilliant crimson and burst forth light in a blinding nimbus. The red arc rolled across the plain and slammed into the retreating bog. Fire enveloped the trees and burned them to ash. Deep within the illusory world, they heard the hag’s scream.
Then it was over. The bog disappeared, and the clouds absorbed the storm. The black sky faded to gray, and the dust cleared. They had visibility for miles across the plain.
Ilvani lowered the dormant sphere to her side. She turned and started walking back to the group. She paused in front of the nightmare and reached up absently to stroke his neck. The beast whickered and leaned into the touch.