These Twisted Bonds (These Hollow Vows, #2)(100)

“The Crimson Fog,” Kane says behind us.

Finn holds my hand and leads me quickly down the path. The leaves stir on the trees, and the wind shifts in the telltale sign of a storm rolling in.

Tynan cuts into the woods at our right, and Finn follows him, tugging me along quicker than my tired feet want to carry me.

“The crimson what?” I ask, but either he can’t hear me over the wind rushing around us or he’s too focused on escape to bother answering right now.

“Here!” Tynan shouts, waving at us before disappearing into the side of the mountain.

The wind howls. I turn to look and see a sheen of red coating the leaves behind us. Finn sweeps me off my feet and tugs me toward Tynan—into a small cave tucked into the side of the mountain— then Kane follows.

“Get down!” Finn shouts over the howling wind. Dara and Luna wiggle their way inside and whine softly as we all crouch to the floor.

Outside, creatures scream and skitter as they run for cover.

“What is it?” I ask. I can feel something looming. Something deadly and far too close.

“The Crimson Fog is a magical, amorphous creature,” Finn says in my ear. “A deadly mist that can rise out of nowhere.”

“But made of blood, not water,” Kane says, peering out into the forest. “It can appear as suddenly as a storm cloud.”

“The creature can pull the blood from the bodies of any animal it passes through,” Tynan says, “and each bit of blood makes it stronger and more powerful.”

I shiver. If I hadn’t seen so many awful things in my time here, I might not even believe it. “How do we know it won’t come after us?”

“They’re rare,” Finn says. “But they need the moisture of the swamp to survive. Once it passes over, we’ll be able to return to the trail, but we’ll have to go around. It was a risk, going that way. I should’ve considered the possibility.”

“I didn’t think of it either, Finn,” Kane says. “There haven’t been reports of a Crimson Fog in five hundred years. How could you have guessed?”

“What happened five hundred years ago?” I ask.

“The Unseelie king and queen were assassinated during the first Seelie strike in the Great Fae War,” Kane says. “Our court was in such chaos that the throne remained vacant for weeks.”

“Crimson Fog thrives in a dying land.” Finn presses a kiss to my shoulder. “We’re running out of time.”



“We need to make camp for the night,” Kane says, watching the skies. “And this is as good a place as any.”

Thanks to our detour around the swamp, we hiked hours longer than we planned today. My legs ache from the ascent and my back’s tired from carrying my pack—though I don’t dare admit it when mine is a third of the size of everyone else’s. Once this is all resolved and my days have room for more than trying to keep Arya from destroying the Court of the Moon, my first priority will be to get strong. Whether I’m a queen or a peasant or something in between. I want the strength and stamina Finn and his friends have shown day after day.

In the meantime, I can’t argue against stopping. Even as skilled as this group is at traveling in the dark, I’ve picked up enough comments throughout the day to know that there are real dangers in these mountains.

Finn scans the area and nods. “Let’s do it.”

“I’ll make a fire,” Kane says. “That should help deter whatever creatures lurk in the trees.”

I shoot him a look, and he grins, saying, “What?”

I don’t want to think about what might be in those trees, but I know Kane will only tease me if I admit that, so I keep my mouth shut. “I’ll help you gather wood,” I say, turning toward the forest.

Finn grabs my arm. “Sit. We’ll do it.”

I hate that my weakness is so obvious. “I can help.”

“You’re exhausted, and if you don’t rest, you’ll slow us down tomorrow.”

He has a point. Besides, I don’t have the energy for an argument, let alone to effectively scavenge the forest for supplies.

“Drop your packs,” Tynan says. “I’ll keep her company and get our beds ready.”

We all obey, everyone appearing as grateful as I feel to have less weight to carry. Kane and Finn head into the forest as Tynan sets about making camp, his braids falling into his face as he works.

“Ever sleep under the stars?” he asks me, grinning as he unrolls a thin pad that will act as someone’s bed.

“Many times.” I smile at the memories. “My mother loved a clear night sky more than anything.”

My smile falls away as I recall why she might have felt that way. I know she loved my father, but it’s clear in retrospect that she never got over Oberon. Why else would she have been so enamored with the night? Unless she knew somehow that I have this tie to the Court of the Moon. Unless she was tied to it too.

Tynan watches me curiously for a beat before returning his attention to the bedroll. “As did mine,”

he says softly. “Sleeping outside isn’t uncommon among the Wild Fae, of course, but the nobility tends toward more refined accommodations.” He shakes his head. “Not my mother, though. She’d take us from the palace and into the woods at least twice a month. She wanted us to be comfortable sleeping with nothing but a bed of pine needles beneath us and a blanket of stars overhead.”