Page 37 of Mountains of Mist and Magic (A World of Sun and Shadow #4)
G rayden was deeply troubled. The mist had thickened, obscuring everything beyond a few inches from his eyes. He sat on the deck, Renya beside him, their companions huddled close, watching out for each other in the impenetrable fog.
“It's been three hours,” Renya whispered, her breath warm against his ear. “I don't think this will pass on its own. We need to talk to Triston and find out what he remembers about the mist from before.”
Grayden agreed, but hesitated to broach the subject. Triston's distress was palpable, and he didn't want to unman him while they were all trapped on the ship.
“Fine. I'll do it,” Renya answered, correctly sensing his reluctance through their bond.
“Triston?” Renya called out, her voice cutting through the thick silence.
His voice drifted from the left, halfway across the ship. “What is it?”
“We need to know what you remember about the mist as a child.”
Silence enveloped them, the ethereal veil of mist pressing in. Then, Triston spoke, his voice strained.
“We thought it was weather-related. If I had known we would run into it again, I never would have—”
“It's okay, son,” Cyrus interjected. Grayden's eyes instinctively searched for his father-in-law, but the mist rendered his efforts futile. “We'll figure a way out of it. Renya, can you use your magic to see if perhaps it will part it?”
“It's...I can't.” Renya's voice trembled with frustration.
“What's wrong?” Grayden asked, reaching for her hand in the fog.
“It's like there's a ribbon wrapping around me and keeping it inside.”
“Mine's the same.” Julietta's voice echoed across the deck from Triston's vicinity.
Cyrus sighed heavily. “Mine too. I was hoping I was just stretched too far from all the magic I'm using to keep the Sun Realm cloaked and to keep your mother from doing something she shouldn't.”
Grayden scratched his chin, a sudden realization dawning. “When was the last time we saw her or Beauty?”
“Oh no,” Renya gasped. “Beauty!” she bellowed. “Come here, girl!”
Silence answered her call. No eager dragon rushed forth for scratches and pets.
“They must be lost in the mist, too,” Cyrus said, his tone grave.
Grayden couldn't see Renya, but instantly felt her worry and fear pulsing through their bond. Beauty will be okay, Little Fawn , he thought, trying to soothe her.
“How long did the mist last before, Triston?” Phillippe called out.
“Several days. We couldn't find a way through it. And when we finally did—we hit something.”
Grayden suppressed a groan, knowing this information would only heighten the others' fears—especially Esmeralda's, who was already struggling.
“Does anyone have any ideas?” Grayden asked, desperate for a solution.
The deck fell silent, save for tiny sounds: someone rubbing another's shoulders; deep inhales and exhales; even the faint sound of a whimper.
“I just wish we could see each other,” Esmeralda said, her voice thick with unshed tears.
“Well, staying in one spot is doing us no good,” Agatha declared, her voice moving towards the helm. “We should just pick a direction and go.”
“Absolutely not,” Triston argued, his boots thudding on the deck as he moved. “We don't know what's out there.”
“We can't stay here, idly floating in the middle of the ocean!” Phillippe countered, his voice rising.
“That's better than running aground or into something and sinking the entire ship!” Triston yelled back.
Esmeralda broke into sobs again, the sound piercing through the tension.
“You guys. No fighting. No arguing,” Renya said firmly, taking control of the situation. Grayden swelled with pride, watching his mate grow into her destined role.
“Renya's right,” he added, supporting her. “I think in this situation, before decisions are made, we need to vote.”
“Vote? When it could mean life or death?” Phillippe scoffed.
“What's that?” Selenia suddenly interjected. Grayden looked around, unable to discern his sister's direction.
“What direction are you looking, Selenia?”
“North, I think? It feels like the north...”
Grayden peered ahead, straining his eyes through the mist. He rubbed them, the fog playing tricks on his vision. But through the thick veil, he caught the outline of another ship as the mist parted slightly.
“I see it, it's a ship!”
“Can we signal them? Help!” Selenia called out, her voice hopeful.
Something else caught Grayden's eye. A small vessel, hardly more than a canoe, materialized right next to their boat. The entire canoe seemed to emit an otherworldly glow, but when Grayden glimpsed the figure inside, he hissed at Selenia. “Shhhhhhh! These aren't—I don't think they're alive.”
More ghostly apparitions began to materialize, emerging from the mist like phantoms from another world. Small boats and canoes, manned by shadowy figures with hollow, lifeless eyes, glided silently alongside the ship. Their occupants, clad in tattered, spectral garments, seemed to float just above the surface of the water. Some held lanterns, their dim, flickering lights casting a pale, haunting glow that barely pierced the fog.
“The undead...” Cyrus murmured, his voice laced with dread. “Don't look at them! Don't acknowledge them!”
Farther out, a grand, yet dilapidated ship appeared, its sails torn and its masts leaning precariously. It loomed like a silent sentinel, its deck populated by a crew of ghostly mariners who moved in a slow, synchronized dance. The ship seemed to pulse with an unnatural light, as if it were a beacon from another realm. The air grew colder, and the sound of faint, mournful wails drifted across the water, sending shivers down Grayden's spine. It was as if the ghosts were calling out to them, beckoning them to join their undead voyage through the mist.
“Mother! Father!” Triston's anguished cry shattered the supernatural silence. Grayden turned to see Triston nearly throw himself over the railing of the ship, his body straining towards the phantom vessel.
“Grab him!” Grayden commanded, his voice cutting through the fog. Phillippe and Sion raced over, their feet pounding on the deck as they grappled with Triston, pulling him back from the edge.
“They're not alive, Triston! No matter what you think you see, they're not real!” Grayden's voice carried through the mist, urgent and forceful.
But Triston kept fighting, his muscles straining against his captors, determined to reach the phantom ship. Out of the corner of his eye, Grayden could see two dark figures beckoning, urging Triston closer with ghostly hands.
“Triston! My love!” Julietta's voice rang out as she rushed to join them. She grabbed Triston's face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “They're not your parents. It's just a trick. Don't believe it.”
Julietta's appearance seemed to cut through Triston's trance, but no sooner had he regained his senses than Esmeralda's cry pierced the air.
“Mommy!” She ran quickly towards the phantom ship, her skirt billowing behind her like a sail caught in the wind.
Grayden lunged to grab her, his fingers brushing the fabric of her dress, but at that moment, a fierce roar shattered the silence. The sound reverberated through the fog, causing the ghostly figures to recoil and shrink back. From above, two massive shapes emerged, cutting through the mist with powerful, sweeping wings.
Brutus's obsidian black eyes glinted menacingly in the dim light, his scales reflecting what little illumination penetrated the fog. Cressida's face was a mask of concentration as she guided the large beast through its flight. Beside him flew Beauty, her familiar form a welcome sight amidst the chaos.
The two dragons roared once more, their voices merging into a thunderous declaration of power that seemed to make the very air tremble. Cressida aimed Brutus towards the spectral vessels, his massive wings stirring the air into a powerful vortex. The winds churned the waters and swept through the ghostly fleet, causing the apparitions to wail and shudder. The ghostly figures began to dissolve, their forms breaking apart and dissipating into the mist like smoke in a strong breeze.
Beauty followed suit, her wings creating waves of wind that radiated outward, dispersing the ghosts with each powerful beat. The ethereal ship rocked violently under the onslaught, its phantom crew fading into nothingness as the dragons' combined power overwhelmed them. Within moments, the ghostly armada disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving behind only swirling mists and choppy waters.
The dragons circled the ship, their wings creating gusts that momentarily cleared the air around the vessel. With a thunderous impact that shook the deck, they landed, their claws scraping against the wood.
“That's twice now I've saved you,” Cressida said, her voice tinged with both pride and irritation as she licked the sea salt off her lips. “And if it hadn't been for the mist obscuring the magic bindings you held me with, I wouldn't have been able to help.”
Grayden's heart sank, knowing what was coming next. He exchanged a glance with Renya, seeing his own apprehension mirrored in her eyes.
“I think it's time you free me from these constraints and start treating me like an ally instead of an enemy.”