My relief from exiting the eerie tunnel didn’t last long. The fog was thicker out on the scrub land, not stymied by the root wall. Whereas I could see four or six feet around me in camp, now I could barely make out anything past my outstretched hand.

Logically, I knew we were out in the open with the sun overhead and only the ocean to hem us in. The only tent walls that could enclose me were the ones we had left behind in camp. The fog might dissipate the light into a kind of gray dimness, similar to the inside of a tent, but we were not in one. And a light change was not enough to send me into a panic.

Logically, I knew that.

Knew too that I had made it through the tunnel in the wall, had been in and out of plenty of tents without tipping over the edge. The tension might spike, but it was always manageable. But I knew I would get out of those. I wasn’t trapped in them. Even with Flickermark I had known roughly how long the journey was supposed to take, had believed we would get out and there had always been that reminder of sky overhead.

Now there was nothing but gray-white fog in front, behind, overhead. A cool blanket that pressed against the skin and gave the impression that you were breathing in nearly as much water as air. I did not know how long it would last. If it would fade away an hour from now or after my week was up. I could not force myself to see more clearly through it, could not avoid it.

My breath hitched.

If only there was a bit of space.

If the fog didn’t press in so tight, if I could see as much as I had in camp, then it would be easier to remember that we were in an open field. Nothing to block my movement, nothing to keep me where I was.

I stopped walking—or the whole group did. There was some noise and commotion coming from the front and I tried to concentrate on it, to distract myself, but it just brought into focus that if the fog wasn’t there I would know what was going on.

Prevna stepped up close. Uncomfortably close, close enough that I could see her features clearly despite the fog. “Are you alright?”

I was lucky that there weren’t any memories closely tied with mist or fog. I would have been drowning in one by now otherwise.

“Gimley?”

Still, I could feel the phantoms of the most potent ones pressing closer with the fog. With the acidic burn of panic swelling in my chest and throat. If I continued on like this, one would claim me and everyone in the squad would witness my weakness.

It was just storming fog.

It wasn’t even my first fog or mist. But there was enemies hidden in it, both real and remembered, and with my vision blocked and other senses muffled it made the distasteful taste of helplessness crawl across my tongue.

“Gimley!” More urgent now.

I had to respond to Prevna or she would alert everyone else of my trouble. Didn’t need that. Didn’t need this.

My first instinct was to rebuff her and send her on her way. Force my way through on my own despite how close the memories were and my uncertainty. But I wasn’t caught in a memory and there were not tent walls or true cramped spaces to send me spiraling into one. Just the tension and rising panic and uncertainty.

I didn’t want to let her in, involve her, but Prevna had already been present for one of these…things. I needed to ground myself, center myself in the true reality of the situation. Ironically, I could do that faster after I broke out of a memory—it was easier to compartmentalize what belonged to what—but right now? Between trying to keep the panic in check and the phantom memories at bay, I didn’t have the focus or time to do so before someone else noticed.

Better to take a small dose of poison now and have it scorch through most of my troubles than fall into a large, noisy trap later of my own making with judgment on all sides and no explanation.

I ground out the words. “When will the fog go away?”

Prevna looked confused for a brief moment before she realized what I was really asking for. She straightened and spoke with full authority. “It’ll be better in two hours.”

It was a lie. She didn’t have anyway to know better than me, but I didn’t need the truth right then. I needed a deadline and now I had one.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Her mouth twitched up into a look that said she would like to see me try before her serious tone returned. “Are you alright?”

A deadpan glare and she got the hint but that didn’t encourage her to let it go. Prevna opened her mouth to say something else and I cut her off. “I’ll be fine. Just…the fog presses in a bit close out here.” I clamped my mouth shut. I hadn’t meant to admit that.

Prevna gave me a searching look before abruptly nodding. “Next time you help me with the boredom, hm?” She held out a hand. “I can lead you easier if you take it and you can picture yourself wherever you want. No fog, no bad memories.”

I gritted my teeth. I didn’t like that she knew more than I wanted her to and, for some reason, it bothered me that she cared to help. I didn’t want to take her hand but she was deliberately making it my choice and that made it easier. Small poison now rather than inescapable large pitfall later.

Her hand was rough with calluses and warm, the grip light but firm, so I could pull away if I wanted. I did want to, but I didn’t pull away despite how uncomfortable it was to have so much contact with another person. Already I could feel this new, unexpected situation pulling my mind away from the memories and panic and mist. Forcing me to focus on that single point of contact and though I wouldn’t have thought narrowing my focus further would help, somehow it did feel like the fog receded, just a bit.

Mishtaw called our names and Prevna answered as she turned and tugged me forward. I could have closed my eyes to block everything out like she implied, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from our linked hands.

From what I could remember I hadn’t ever even held hands with Fellen.

New worries bubbled up as we walked forward, blocking out the less tangible fears. What would the others think when they saw Prevna leading me out of the fog? Would they think me weak? Would Idra snicker and insinuate we were closer than we were? I’d cut her through with my own comment if she did.

We regrouped with the others and I learned my fears were unfounded. The most I could make out of anyone was their voice and a vague outline unless they stepped right into my personal space. In fact, because of that, we were ordered to link up, hand in hand, so no one got separated in the mist. Prevna navigated us to the very end of the line, so I didn’t have to hold anyone else’s hand. She got a small nod of acknowledgment for that.

It was also during that scrabble of everyone joining hands and finding their positions that I learned we had been joined by Squad Leader Hattie and most of her crew. Two of them were off helping other squads since they had ranged detection blessings. Hattie’s group was the other one assigned to the caves, so two other whisper women were still on watch up there with two of their fire starters.

The rest of the fire starters, Hattie, and her seemingly second-in-command were with us. Melka, the tall woman with a plait of black ankle length hair, had a blessing that struck foreboding in the hearts of creatures around her within fifty paces. She could tell if it took hold or not, so she was going to act as our ranged detector. Apparently, we wouldn’t be caught up in it because she could also choose to protect a certain number of people from the effect.

The journey was slow and tense and cold. First, we set off for the shore since we couldn’t get lost as long as we kept the ocean to one side unless we overshot our destination. We knew it was dangerous being so close to the water, but between our numbers and the desire not to get turned in circles, the decision was made.

Up front, Hattie was apparently trying Mishtaw’s patience with a quiet stream of chatter and our group was filled in on what the other had learned during their observation of the caves. Fish carrying in the other monsters, lots of activity within that one of the women could sense through tremors in the ground but it was too dark to see anything useful inside once you left the main stretch of passage behind—two of the women had scaled their way inside on tiny hand- and footholds during one of the downtimes between when new monsters were brought in.

Prevna and I learned most of this third and fourth hand as information passed up and down the line. It was a good distraction from the feel of her hand and the increasingly insistent desire to wrench myself free of it.

I kept expecting us to be attacked but the day remained quiet. Either Melka’s aura was doing its job remarkably well or there was something else going on. Perhaps other groups were better targets than us, but the eerie stillness around us wouldn’t let my gut settle. Something was happening, something likely big, but I didn’t have near enough information to figure out what.

It could be anything from another attack on camp to our patrols being picked off one by one to something with the caves to some other goal or part of the battlefield that I had no knowledge of. Still, I had the same sensation I would have when she was having one of her terrible days and I knew everything I said or did would only make it worse. It could have been the lingering effect of the claustrophobic fog but the more I thought about it the more I realized that the sensation hadn’t developed until we started traveling along the shore.

So what was it?

Sandy beach, dense fog, lapping water just a bit to our left. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing new. No prickling sense of being watched, no odd noises in the air.

But perhaps that was precisely the problem. The absence of anything odd.

We were all strung out along the shore and slower to reach our weapons because of the hand holding. A pretty piece of bait on offer, nearly on par with what me and the other seedlings had offered during our first plan to kill the crawler, and we weren’t being snapped up. The other groups traveling to their patrols would be in a similar situation and there had been whispers on the wind, that I knew of, of battles fought or won.

Why would the Lady Blue or her commander pass up on such an opportunity? For all that the fog might also obscure their view, they could go under the water with clear sight and get close without us noticing. You would think they would take the chance on at least a few groups or the night outposts caught in the fog.

But we heard nothing and from what I could tell the ocean was quiet. It felt like an ambush waiting to sprung. If we weren’t the ones it was supposed to be sprung on though, then who?

My thoughts went to the camp. Hattie had said things with the storm would have been a lot worse if it hadn’t been seen and stopped. No shadows to travel through and winds all wrong. A chill ran down my back.

That sounded close to our current situation, but we still had the winds. Fog didn’t affect those.

Unless, of course, we weren’t only dealing with fog.

Another unnatural storm could have been concealed in it and perhaps the commander could just drink it down, but she hadn’t taken in the fog…

Urgently, I spoke around Prevna to Eliss’s outline. “Can you still contact the camp through wind? The other groups?”

She shifted slightly and I heard the frown in her voice. “Of course.”

I didn’t let it go. “Are you sure? Have you checked recently?”

She replied, exasperated, but I only half heard her assurance because it was at that moment that I realized what had felt so off to me since we reached the shore.

No wind rippled the water’s surface that I could see nor moved the heavy blanket of fog. My hair hadn’t stirred with a breath of it since we left camp.

No shadows to travel through, no wind to communicate by and a third of our forces strung out along the shore, ripe for the picking, when there was few enough to begin with. The camp would be more vulnerable too with us all missing.

Simple and devious, with multiple good outcomes for how the situation might play out. If it weren’t for the other side, it was a trap that Rawley would have been proud of.