Hidden (Book 1) (7 page)

Tressa snuck into her cottage, avoiding the crowds still milling
around outside. They seemed to have lost interest in blaming her. In a way, the
dragon saved her from an angry mob. They would have turned on her, all of them,
and she knew it. Udor only would have fanned the flames of their
ignorance,
leading them into thinking she was everything he
wanted them to believe.

She reached into the corner of the small
cottage, grabbing her travel pack. It was stuffed with a change of clothes,
breeches not a dress, bread and apples, a bit of jerky, a jar of honey, and little
else. A small doll crafted by Granna from fabric scraps hid in the bottom. It
was the one sentimental item she allowed herself. Everything else would have to
stay behind. Waiting for her return.

Well, if she'd had family that might be the
case. With Granna gone, her goods would likely last a day before they were
distributed to others who needed them. No one ever came back, so why bother
saving them?

She reached into her pocket, fingering the
crinkled note she'd found earlier. She wanted to chalk it up to more of
Granna's wishing.

A lilting noise interrupted her reverie. Tressa
peeked out the back window, looking for the source. In the apple tree behind
her cottage, a small downy bird, with huge eyes and a tiny beak peered at her.
Its head bobbled up and down, then flipped to the side. Tressa gasped, covering
her mouth with her hand.
Nerak
, Granna’s little owl.

Tressa
tsked
with her
tongue, while stretching out her hand. The owl tilted its head to the other
side. It was such a strange movement, as if it could almost turn its head
upside down. "I’m glad to see you one last time before I leave."

The owl hooted at her, sticking its neck out
and rolling its eyes. Tressa couldn't help but laugh. It was the cutest thing
she'd ever seen.
Nerak
had always been loyal to
Granna, treating Tressa as nothing more than an oddity. She’d treated the owl
in kind. Now they had something in common – a loss so great neither knew
how to go on.

Nerak
inched closer and closer until a claw rested on the tip of
Tressa's finger.

"Do you want to say goodbye to me?"
Tressa smiled. The owl hooted and moved fully onto Tressa's outstretched
fingers. Instead of digging in hard, it rested lightly. Warmth spread through Tressa,
radiating from her hands to her shoulders, then both up and down her body. She
shuddered, drawing her arm back into the cottage. As soon as both her hand and
the owl were back in warmth of her home, the bird jumped to Tressa's shoulder.
It nuzzled against her hair and pecked playfully at her braid.

A knock at the door startled her.

“Hey, Tressa, you still in there?”

Connor.

“Tressa?”

Bastian.

“You said you didn’t need much time. Everything
okay?” Connor knocked again.

“I’m here. I’m just, uh, changing clothes.
Putting on breeches for the trip.” Trip. She was probably changing her breeches
just to walk into certain death. “Give me a few more seconds.”

Tressa pulled food and clothes out of her bag.
Yanking the breeches over her legs one at a time, she cinched the waist under
her dress,
then
pulled it down over the breeches. Sure
she looked ridiculous, but not caring much at the moment, Tressa gathered up
the little owl in her hands. “If you want to come with me, maybe you should
hide in my bag.”

There were only a few owls in Hutton’s Bridge.
They were looked on as a good luck charm. No one would want her to take
Nerak
with her, but Tressa needed every scrap of luck she
could get.

Nerak
didn’t argue, letting her lower it into her pack. She wrapped the
food in one of her clean shirts,
then
placed it next
to Granna’s friend. “Don’t eat any of that, okay?” She wasn’t even sure what an
owl would eat.
Hopefully not apples or bread or jerky.

She flipped the flap over the top and secured
it with a small toggle. The owl didn’t protest. She patted the top of the bag.
“Okay. You can come in now.”

Connor opened the door, Bastian stood behind
him with his sword drawn. Tressa raised an eyebrow at their cautious entrance.
“Something’s not right,” Connor said, glancing around her cottage. He raised a
hand and Bastian lowered his sword. “We thought maybe you were being held
against your will. You are okay, right?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Tressa tried to
appear calm. She worked even harder to keep her eyes from darting to her pack.
“When do we leave? Are we getting a proper send off or are they just kicking us
out of the village?”

“There are a few gathered,” Connor said. “Hazel,
my boys, a few of our neighbors, and some random others.”

Tressa didn’t ask Bastian if
Vinya
would be there and he didn’t offer the information.

“Ready? There’s no time left to waste. We need
to leave, make it through the fog, and find a cure.” Connor ran a hand through
his hair, confident. As if leaving was something easy and not a death sentence.

“Don’t forget coming back to save the village.”
Tressa slipped her pack off the table and onto her shoulder.
Nerak
didn’t protest. A small pressure on her back, like
nuzzling, told her the owl was as attached to her as she was to it.

Bastian cracked a small smile at the corner of
his mouth. Tressa smiled back, forgetting for a moment that he was no longer
her best friend and lover. She knew that smile all too well. A sudden rush of
jealousy swept through her, wondering if
Vinya
had
seen it too, or if that was only for her.

Connor opened the door. Bastian walked out
first, the smile wiped from his face. Maybe Tressa had only imagined it. He
motioned for Tressa to follow him out. They were being overprotective of
her,
probably concerned someone would still blame her for
the plague. Tressa stepped lightly, careful not to jostle her pack with
Nerak
hiding inside.

The crowd had dwindled. She glanced to the
square. The only remaining body was the dragon. The three villagers had already
been moved to their final resting place in the fog. Geoff’s wife was gone and
he wasn’t far behind. Their son would make sure someone knew and could care for
the bodies the way they deserved. It was unlikely they would be the only ones
who would need such help.

A group of ten people stood to the side, off by
the fog, near the town square. Tressa recognized all of them.
Connor’s wife and two children.
Three elders. Three
villagers Tressa vaguely knew. Udor.

Instinctively, she reached back, touching her
pack.
Nerak
had to be quiet around Udor. She feared
what he would do to her if discovered. Through the pack, she felt the peck of
the owl’s beak.
Acknowledgement that it understood?
Whatever it was, it would have to do.

“This is it?” Tressa whispered to Connor.
Normally the entire village showed up to say goodbye to those walking into the
fog. Often, everyone from Hutton’s Bridge offered gifts of medicine, jerky,
honey, or anything they could spare. “Their gifts won’t be enough.”

“It’s never enough,” Connor returned. “No one’s
come back, no matter how much they’ve received.”

“You’ll received nothing today,” Udor told
them. “No one is willing to help you. We’re only here to make sure you leave.
Death awaits you whether you stay or go, Tressa. Connor and Bastian, I ask you
to reconsider.”

“No.” Hazel stepped forward, her hand on the
shoulder of her toddler, another baby in her crooked arm. “I will give what I
can.”

Connor enveloped his family in his arms.
“You’ll do no such thing. Save it for yourself and the children.” He glanced
around the village. “You don’t know when you’ll need it.”

“He’s right, Hazel. Take care of yourself and
your children, just like we’ll do for ourselves out there.” Bastian set a
strong hand on her shoulder. The look in his eyes was grim, but Tressa noticed
he didn’t look around for his own wife and daughter. Her heart fell as she
realized he must have assumed they wouldn’t show. Coupling didn’t always
produce a loving life bond, but she couldn’t believe
Vinya
wouldn’t even come to see him off.

Tressa
nodded
,
mute
. There was no
one there who loved her. She and Bastian didn’t have the caring words Connor
was getting whispered in his ear. She kept her eyes away from Udor, not wanting
to give him one moment of her precious time. There wasn’t much left. Instead,
she chose to focus on Bastian’s back. If she couldn’t tell him how much she
loved him before they walked through the fog to their deaths, she could at
least spend her last moments memorizing every inch of him.

Connor broke away from Hazel. He made eye
contact with Bastian, then with Tressa. “Ready?”
Always the gentleman.
Always giving them a way out.

“Of course.” Tressa shifted from one leg to the
other, surprised how heavy the little owl was on her back.
Nerak
couldn’t have weighed more than a few pounds. Or maybe it was the weight of
knowing she was about to face the unknown. A shiver raced through her body,
ending in a cold sweat on her brow.

Bastian sheathed the sword he’d been carrying
at his side. He looked over at the fog, then at Tressa. He opened his mouth,
but then closed it before he could utter a word. Tressa yearned to tell him to
say something, anything, but held back. They’d said everything they needed to
say to each other, two years ago, on the first night of their coupling. She
knew she hadn’t changed her feelings and by the look in his green eyes, he
hadn’t either.

Udor’s laugh scratched at her ears. “What are
you waiting for? Afraid? Don’t be. Just step in.” He shooed them with his
hands.

Connor’s toddler reared back, kicking Udor on
the shin. “Don’t talk to my poppa that way. Shut up you
mean
old man.”

Hazel held back a snicker behind the baby’s
head. “Why don’t you leave, now? Let them go in peace.”

Udor sneered, turning on his heel he stalked
away, followed by three villagers. Only
Hazel
, her
kids, and the elders remained. One of the older women stepped forward, placing
a hand on Tressa’s shoulder.

She smoothed Tressa’s hair with her veined
hand. “Sophia was an inspiration to me. I have gifts for you.”

“No. I have everything I need,” she responded.
Tressa leaned over, kissing the woman on her leathery cheek. “Thank you,
though.”

The old woman nodded, then with the help of the
other two elders, walked away in silence. Tressa glanced at Hazel and her two
boys. “It’s probably time for you to go as well.”

“No. My children will see their father leave as
a hero. The baby won’t remember, but he will be told the stories to come in the
future. He will know he was there, even if his memory doesn’t assure him. His
brother will remember, though. I will make sure of that.” Hazel leaned over,
kissing Connor one last time on the cheek. “Go now. Know how much we love you.
All of you.”

Tressa’s head snapped up at that. She glanced
at Bastian. Had Hazel said that only to soothe Bastian’s sadness at the absence
of his family?

“Don’t be so surprised, Tressa.” Hazel laughed.
“I knew the three of you were a package deal. I accepted that the first day
with Connor.”

Tressa reached over, and squeezed Hazel’s arm.
If she didn’t have a stowaway hidden in her pack, she might have hugged her.
“You’re a strong woman.”

“I have to be to be married to him.” Hazel
nodded at her husband. “Now, off with you. Do what you’ve come here to do. This
is the least attended leaving ever, but you will be successful. I feel it in my
bones.”

Tressa wished fervently she had some sight into
the future, like Granna always claimed to have, giving her any reason to calm
her pounding heart. Anything to tamp down the fear slowly rising from her toes
into her chest.

Connor took Tressa’s hand, softly cradling it
in his own. He nodded to Bastian, who took Tressa’s other hand. Instead of
holding it palm to palm like Connor, Bastian laced his fingers with Tressa’s
and squeezed. She looked up at him, forgetting for just a moment they were
about to take three steps into the unknown. Into what was probably the end of
their entire
existence.

“On three,” Connor said.

“One.”

Tressa held her breath.

“Two.”

She let it out.

“Three.”

She lifted her foot in unison with Connor and Bastian, stepping into
the unknown.

The damp fog crept up her body, starting with the first nibble on
her shoes, slowly consuming her body. Tressa’s eyes were shut, hiding her from
death’s grasp. Her breath caught in her chest.

She couldn’t hold it in any longer. The air
slipped out her nose and her chest screamed for more. Tressa’s mouth fell open,
taking in a misty breath that whispered in her soul. Alive. She was alive.

“Bastian? Connor?”

A squeeze to her hands told her they were alive
too. Her whole body perked awake, rising from the dream of death. Finality no
longer seemed something to fear.

“We’re alive. We’re alive!” she screamed at the
top of her lungs.

“She’s right.” Connor’s whoop of joy echoed
around her. “But I can’t see either of you.”

“I can’t see you either, Connor. Don’t let go of
my hand. Hold on tight. Bastian, are you okay? Say something?”

Silence surrounded them. She swallowed the bile
climbing up her throat. Not Bastian. No. He had to be alive. She could still
feel his hand in hers.

“Bastian?”

“Holy mother -”

Tressa burst out in laughter, cutting off his
expletive. “You half-wit. I thought you were dead.”

“What? You don’t like holding hands with dead
guys?” he asked her, joking. It had been a long time since Bastian had teased
her like that. It almost felt like old times. Almost.

“Can anyone else hear us?” Tressa shouted
again. They’d only taken a step. Hazel wasn’t far away. It would give her
comfort to know they were safe. Bastian and Connor shouted the names of
Connor’s children, but there was no response.

“Let’s move ahead,” Connor finally said.

“Can you see anything?” Tressa asked.

“Not unless you count dark mist right in front
of my eyeballs,” Bastian said. Tressa imagined him squinting, trying to see
more just like she was.

“So now what?” Connor asked. “Do you think this
is always what happens? Step into the fog and wander forever in blindness until
you die?”

Tressa shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Let’s keep walking.” Bastian tugged on
Tressa’s hand and she yanked on Connor’s.

“Don’t let go,” she said to both of them.
Placing one foot in front of the other, she staggered behind Bastian’s gentle
pull. But Connor’s fingers started to slip out of hers. She squeezed, trying to
get a good grip on him. “Connor! Don’t!”

“I can’t. It hurts. I can’t move any further.”
His voice came out strangled, as if he couldn’t get enough air to finish his
thought.

Tressa tugged hard on Bastian. “Don’t move,”
she commanded him, but he continued to tug her forward.

“Something’s pushing me forward and I can’t
stop.” His fingers started to slip out of hers too.

Tears streamed down Tressa’s cheeks. They
couldn’t step into the
fog,
experience the euphoria of
still being alive, only to have some unseen force tear them apart. A poking at
her back reminded her of her hidden guest. Its talons clawed inside the bag,
shredding Tressa’s back into fleshy strips as it struggled to get free.

The pain was too much to bear. Tressa let go of
both Bastian and Connor, blindly reaching behind her to unhook the toggle
holding the bag shut. If she didn’t,
Nerak
would claw
her to a bloody pulp.

With a beating of wings behind her head, the
owl flew free of the bag. Tressa fell to the ground, weak, alone, and afraid.
“Bastian? Connor?” She cried out for both of them, but heard nothing in return.
They were lost to her. Was this how it was to be, then? How long would she last
alone? How long until the fog claimed her, taking her last breath from her
chest?

She called out once more for Bastian and
Connor, but was only greeted by the oppressive silence of the fog. Maybe she
was already dead, lost to the ether in a blanket of blindness and solitude.

A small beak nipped at her back, then the
weight of the owl pushed down on her shoulder. So she wasn’t alone. Tressa
reached up, ruffling
Nerak’s
feathers. If nothing
else, she believed death hadn’t claimed her. Yet.

“What can we do now?” she asked it. The owl
responded with a hoot. Warmth spread, a power unlike any she'd experienced
permeated her whole body. A faint purple glow bathed the ground in front of
her, illuminating her surroundings for the first time.

Trees stood firmly, asserting their claim on
the forest no one had successfully traversed in almost eighty years. Dense fog
wrapped its tendrils around emaciated tree branches reaching out to each other
in a silent cry for help. Eerily silent, the forest was devoid of all life.
Tressa shivered, more afraid now than before.

She rose to her feet, stretching out her full height,
still feeling dwarfed by the trees. "What can I do with this?"
She still not sure exactly what she was experiencing.

Find. Love. Use. Magic.

Tressa started and looked around. There was no
one but
her
and the owl on her shoulder. "Was
that you?"

The owl tilted its head.
Nerak
. Good owl. Love.
The owl bobbed its head up and down, nuzzling its
beak into Tressa's neck.

"Granna told me stories about
communicating with animals, but I never believed it. No one in my village could
do it. We thought it was one of those stories that gets bigger with time."

Find. Love. Use. Magic.

"I don't know how," Tressa said.

Silence. Breathe.

Tressa closed her eyes, her eyelashes
fluttering against her upper cheeks. She took in a deep breath,
then
released it slowly through her mouth. As the air passed
over her lips, she felt calm float through her body. The magic took over
forcing Tressa's eyes open again and casting a purple haze over the whole area.

"Bastian!" she cried out.

“Tressa!” His voice was so far away.

“Bastian! Are you out there? Can you see the
light?” She stumbled to her feet, still holding onto the owl with a hand.

“Yes!” he called back. “Connor? Can you see the
purple glow?”

Tressa strained for
a
answer,
any indication her friend was still alive and close by. But he didn’t respond.
“Bastian! Try to get to me. Follow the light. Maybe we can find Connor
together.”

“Don’t move, Tressa. I’m coming!”

She fidgeted. “Are you making that light?” she
asked her owl. It bobbed around on her shoulder. She took that as a yes. “I’m
not going to hide you anymore, okay? It looks like you may have saved us.”

She hoped, deep in her soul, that Connor was
still out there. After a few tense minutes, Bastian’s outline took shape in the
fog. Tressa reached out her hands. He grasped them tightly in his. When he
tried to yank her into an embrace, she held back. Not with the owl on her
shoulder.
Maybe not at all.

“Tressa?” Bastian asked. He was still a shadow
in the fog, even though she could feel his fingertips on her arm. “How are you
doing that?”

So he could see the owl. “It sits there on its
own. I’m not doing anything.”

“Owl? What are you talking about? I mean the
light.”

Tressa laughed. “The light isn’t me. It’s the
owl. Somehow she’s projecting it, helping us to see each other in this mess.”

She could make out the shadow of Bastian’s head
shaking. “No, Tressa. The light is coming from you. From your eyes.”

“What?” She mustn’t have heard him right. “Not
mine. The owl.”

“No, Tressa, it’s coming from your eyes. Not an
owl.” He paused. “What owl?”

“You can’t see it? It’s sitting on my
shoulder.” Tressa pointed with her finger,
then
realized that was ridiculous. Even
Bastian
was just a
shadow in the fog. Of course he couldn’t see the tiny bird sitting on her
shoulder. Even so, the glow had to be coming from the owl, not her own eyes.
She craned her neck toward her shoulder. The purple glow was there, surrounding
the little owl. She squinted, trying to narrow down the source of the glow to
the owl’s eyes.

But as her field of vision narrowed, she could
see the owl’s face more clearly. The glow surrounded
Nerak
,
but wasn’t coming from it. The owl tilted its head, looking back at Tressa. She
glanced back toward Bastian, noticing for the first time the glow followed her
eyes wherever they lead.

“Bastian?” she called out. “Are you still
there?”

His shadow became more apparent as he moved
closer. “I’m here.”

“I think you’re right. The glow is coming from
me.” She faltered, feeling like an idiot. “But I don’t know why, or how.”

“Who cares? It saved us and that’s all that
matters. Whatever it is you’re doing, it brought us back together.” His arm
slid around her waist, pulling her close.

Their chests touched, leaving no more than a
breath between them. A slight pinch to her shoulder told her the owl was taking
flight. The glow extinguished and Bastian pulled her closer. Not out of desire,
but concern.

“I can’t see you anymore. Can you see me?” His
voice was lined with worry as his arm tightened its grip on her waist.

“No.” Tressa shook her head, feeling Bastian’s
hard chest against her cheek. He was so close, but even with her eyes wide
open, she couldn’t see one inch of him. The fog was too thick, enveloping her
sense of sight. Without the glow, there was nothing.

“It’s okay as long as we’re together.” Bastian
rested his chin on the top of Tressa’s head. “Is the owl still on your
shoulder? I don’t feel it.” His hand ran up and down her arm.

“No. It flew away when you pulled me closer.”
She wanted to tell him she didn’t regret it because being in his arms was the
only thing she’d ever craved.

“Call it back.” His breath lingered on her
cheek. If she stood on her tiptoes, she knew their lips would be even.

“Here,
Nerak
!” She
closed her eyes, remembering how she’d gotten the owl to come to her in the
first place. “I’m going to let go of you, but just with one hand. Make sure you
hang on to me, okay?” she asked Bastian.

His grip tightened more. Tressa held her arm
out to the side and attempted to mimic the hooting noise
Nerak
made. A flapping sound cut through the fog. Hope surged in Tressa’s chest,
confirmed only when she felt the familiar pinch of talons on her hand.

“I did it. She’s back.” Tressa bent her arm,
bringing her hand closer to her body. The feathers brushed against her nose.

“The light’s not back,” Bastian said. “We need
that to find Connor.”

“Well, she was on my shoulder the last time it
happened. Maybe I should try that?” Tressa touched her hand to her shoulder and
wiggled her fingers. The little owl’s talons shimmied from Tressa’s hand to her
shoulder. The purple glow came back.

“I think you’ve got a magic owl there. Let’s
see if we can use this light to find Connor.” Bastian kept one arm snaked
around her waist. They stood side-by-side, hips touching. “Which way should we
go first?”

A blood-curdling scream ripped through the air.
Connor.

“This way,” Tressa said, heading off in the direction of the cry.