He straightened slowly, eyes narrowing trying to see through the mist.
For the first time since he’d met Elara, unease slipped beneath his practiced calm. She wasn’t helpless, that much he’d already learned, but the thought of her alone, exposed to danger, unnerved him.
He started forward, every sense alert. Twice he thought he saw her, the shadow of movement between trees, a broken branch as if snapped by someone rushing past it, but when he reached for it to see if even a tiny shred of cloth clung to it, the mist swallowed it whole.
“Blast it, woman,” he muttered. “Where in the nine hells did you go?”
The only response was a raven’s cry.
“You’ll not stop me from finding her,” Dar muttered to the fog as if it were his foe and started walking. “I intend to see her safe.”
The fog began to dissipate as he walked and while he did not think his words were powerful enough to frighten off the fog, he did wonder over it. Some of Rathmor had once been part of Driochmor, the forbidden land, and many believed dark magic remained embedded in its roots, its soil.
It took a while, but he spotted her once the fog had faded enough for him to peer through it. She was helping two old women crawl out of the hollow of a fallen tree covered in ivy.
Dar approached, saying, “Has anyone been harmed?”
The two elderly women shook their heads, one speaking up, “We’re safe, thanks to Elara.”
“We must get the lass. She hides as well,” Elara said and turned, hurrying off, leaving Dar to help the elderly women.
Elara crouched down and peered in the hollow. “It is safe. You can come out.”
“Are you sure?” the lass asked, a tremor in her voice.
“It’s safe,” Dar confirmed, leaving the two elderly women to lean against each other as he joined Elara. “I heard two Hunters say they were finished here. It was time to move on.”
The young lass ran to the two older women, and they hugged her close.
“What of the others?” one of the old women asked.
“We’re here,” a voice called out, and two more women emerged from the woods.
“Two were captured,” Dar said, “or so I heard the Hunter say.”
The woman who recognized Elara huddled together with the other woman, tears pooling in their eyes.
One woman spoke the concern of them all. “What now?”
“With the Hunter saying they were finished here, I doubt they will return to Rathmor again,” Elara said. “At least for now.”
“You mean they will keep returning until the healer they search for is found,” one woman said what all thought.
“And if she is nothing more than a myth,” another woman asked.
“We all suffer,” an elderly woman said, her wrinkled cheeks wet with tears.
“The healer the king looks for shouldn’t hide. She should go to him,” the young lass said as if the solution was simple.
“It is not that simple, Cara,” one woman said.
“Why not?” Cara asked, scrunching her nose confused. “Healers heal. Healers help. Healers do not let anyone suffer.” Her young eyes spread wide. “Maybe she doesn’t know. We need to find her and tell her.”
The women stood silent, the solution sounding so simple and yet…
Cara turned to Elara. “You are brave. You can find her.”
“That is a good idea, Cara,” Elara said, making it seem that she placated the young lass. “I will search for this healer the king wishes to meet.”