[This post is from Matt’s point of view.]
A fog rose around them as they ran, chill, almost electric, setting Matt’s hair on edge. Part of him wanted to risk a glance at Thordin, a glance that would have contained a question, but he didn’t risk it. Part of him was afraid of what he might see in Thordin’s face, another argued that looking would slow him down and that was the last thing he needed.
Neither paused as they reached the Shakespeare Garden, simply charged on without hesitation. The fog was thick around them, and muted flashes of light reflected through it. They could hear it now, the keening wail. It was almost but not quite a song.
Matt’s heart seized. It can’t be a bansidhe. It can’t be. It’s not that. “Hecate!”
“Here,” her voice called back. “Down here.”
He and Thordin were already charging down the hill. The torches were glowing a bright blue, though faint, as if they were in danger of burning out. That sent Matt’s heart slamming up into his throat.
Fog swirled around them and the keen grew louder, though didn’t tip into howling. Matt’s throat tightened as he plumbed the fog, half-blindly seeking Hecate. She hadn’t made another sound since answering his call. Now, as the fog thickened and the keen grew closer, Matt found he was worried about calling out to her again, about making any sound at all.
There was a glow somewhere in the fog, something that was light and dark all at the same time. It was close and growing closer, Matt could tell.
His pace slowed. Thordin bumped into him gently, but he, too, had slowed in the fog. Matt could barely see his friend’s face, but somehow Thordin’s eyes were plainly visible—wild, bright, and somehow afraid but not afraid.
Matt’s breath caught as he realized his own gaze must have mirrored Thordin’s.
A hand caught his and squeezed. Warmth shot through him, panic abating for only a second as he drew Hecate toward him, drawing Carolyn behind her.
“What’s going on?” Carolyn whispered. “Who is this?”
“I’m not sure,” Hecate breathed. “But I have my suspicions and some of them aren’t good.”