of
incomprehensible words. The herbs began to smolder.
Smoke wafted into his nose, stifling his breathing and choking
him. Bastian coughed and held an arm over his face. “What is that?”
“Lavender and oregano. I’m cleansing the air around you as
we walk through the town. Everyone will stay clear, and no one will suspect you
are anything other than a diseased wretch.” She waved the herbs in front of his
face again, her blue eyes unflinching.
“They will because it reeks,” he said, muffled through his
arm.
“No. This marks you as ill and me as your healer. No one
will want to tempt the fate of the gods by coming any closer than they have
to.” She tugged hard on the rope leash. “Come on.”
Bastian stumbled and followed her down the street. She
spoke true. Everyone kept far away from them. A few made strange gestures with
their hands and some spat on the ground while cursing. Elinor was right. They
quickly left the town without any interference. He just hoped she was exactly
what she’d told him and that he wasn’t being led into another trap.
Chapter Six
After they left the town, Elinor smothered her smoldering
herbs and untied Bastian’s hands. She commanded he keep the hood on in case
they came across anyone who was looking for him.
Bastian hadn’t been this way before. Only northwest to
Hutton’s Bridge. His head spun. Earlier in the day he’d marched out of his town
into the fog, killed the beasts, and reasoned with the woman in the tree, only
to get captured by Stacia’s men. Again. Despite all of his brawn and bravery,
he couldn’t remain free.
Women kept saving him. First Tressa. Now this Elinor girl.
It was embarrassing.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked.
“Somewhere safe.” Elinor fell back, walking next to
Bastian. They were no longer healer and patient, but equals.
Bastian looked down. Where he was too tall, she was too
short. A tiny thing, the top of her head barely reached his elbow. “I think
it’s okay to tell me now. No one is around to hear you.”
Elinor stopped and yanked on his sleeve. “Fine. We’re going
to a cave along the Snake River. It’s just to the north of the three trees that
grow as one. Past the stream that leads into the river. Does that help? Do you
know where we’re going now?”
Bastian glared at her, irritated. “Yes, I do.” He didn’t,
but there was no reason to tell her that. She didn’t need to know he’d never
travelled anywhere. “I’m very familiar with that area.”
Elinor slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh.
“What?” Bastian asked. His irritation was rapidly growing
into annoyance.
“Make sure you take a right at the cow.” She laughed again,
this time not even pretending to cover it up.
“Funny. Very funny.” It wasn’t. Not at all. But she’d healed
his injuries and led him to freedom, so he would keep his opinions to himself.
“I know you’ve never been outside of your little town or
mine.”
Bastian raised his eyebrows.
“Hutton’s Bridge is a bit of a legend to us, too.” Elinor
plucked a white daisy from the ground and twirled it between her fingers. “I
grew up thinking it was a town of mystery and enchantment. A fairy tale. I
mean, the fog has always been there. Impenetrable. How could anyone live inside
that? We thought everyone was dead.”
Bastian shook his head. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? We
believed the rest of the world was gone. Only death awaited us. Every year, our
elders sent three into the fog. No one ever returned. Not one.”
“Yet you kept trying.” She sighed. “You must have a very strong
community. Many people here would give up. They wouldn’t believe. Your people
must be so brave.”
Bastian hadn’t thought of it that way before. Sending three
into the fog had felt desperate. Villagers rarely volunteered. It wasn’t like
they were clamoring to leave. At times, they were sent at sword-point. Within a
few days, life in Hutton’s Bridge would go back