Page 19 of Nightmare's Dance

“Shit,” I muttered and forced the material into mottled blacks and grays, flowing some of it over my feet to protect me as I ran.

I still drew attention, but not nearly as much.

A few of the gray people shouted, but the attackers had their attention. They had my attention, too. Beasts out of legend charged out of the mists, swinging clubs, swords, knives. In some cases, they fought with bow and arrow or other projectiles. Large, hairy creatures that reminded me of Bigfoot charged past.

Wolves howled in the distance, and a few gigantic canines raced ahead of the Bigfoot charge. Men wearing ski masks and wielding blades, and—oh god, was that a creepy-ass doll with a knife?

I screamed and ran.

The shadowy mist swallowed me, muffling the sounds of the fight and hiding me from view. It also hid everything else, and it wasn’t long before I plowed into a tree.

Screaming in pain as my wrist bent backward and rough bark scraped my forearms, I sank to the ground. I couldn’t run blindly, but I couldn’t stay here.

Command the mists, a quiet voice whispered to me.

Was it my voice? Was it someone else’s? I didn’t know and didn’t care.

If only it were that easy.

Fighting sobs and rubbing at tears, I gasped for breath and tried to convince the shadows to make a path so I could see.

The mists parted, far easier than the shadow stuff that had held me suspended above the ground.

It took me a minute to react, but then I scrambled to my feet and forced my aching limbs to propel me forward. If I hurt now, I couldn’t imagine how I’d feel when the adrenalin wore off.

I ran as long as I could, isolated from the fighting by my shadowy fog bank. The sounds of conflict faded behind me, and I hoped the cryptids weren’t hurt too badly attacking Baz and his minions.

Through the fog of my fear, I noticed that the surrounding landscape had changed. The sky lightened to a not quite blueish gray, the foliage had not quite brown and not quite green tints to it over the ever-present gray-scale, and here and there a patch of color shone through the shades of gray. Interesting.

I stumbled along, trying to keep going, but not sure how long I could, or should, continue. How will I find this Nic guy? Does he know I’m looking for him? So many questions, and I had no answers.

Finally, unable to move any farther, I collapsed to the ground and put my back against a tree. Unlike the twisted trunks and branches near the castle I’d escaped from, these trees had almost green leaves, and a few had splashes of color from fruit or flowers.

I doubted I was safe, but forcing myself to move proved more than I could manage, and my eyelids fluttered shut against my will.

I startled awake sometime later from a quiet voice.

“There you are.”

I jerked my head upright and gasped as it smacked into something hard. The tree I’d fallen asleep against. “Ow,” I whined.

“This isn’t a safe place to nap,” the lightly accented voice chided.

The light had faded, and I had to squint, but finally I made out someone kneeling in front of me, just out of my reach.

No, it wasn’t that dark. It was more that the being in front of me seemed to be made at least partially of the shadow stuff. At this point, it didn’t even faze me.

“Who are you?”

“Nic,” he answered quietly, “and you are Ember.”

“Nic?” I scrambled to my knees and nearly did a face plant as my muscles seized up.

A hand shifted out of the swirl of shadow and steadied me.

“I’m supposed to find you.”

The shadow retreated farther, revealing a man with startlingly familiar features. Baz hadn’t sparked my memory, but Nic did. Shit. I knew him. From where, though? He had his longer dark hair tied back in a small tail, and if the lighting wasn’t tricking me, he had tawny brown skin and deep-set angular brown eyes. High cheekbones accented a handsome face, and a darker shadow followed his jaw line—literal five o’clock shadow?

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