Free King's Folly (Book 2) by Sabrina Flynn

from the tress. The hag’s mouth split, her jaw unhinged, unleashing a screech that dropped Isiilde to her knees. When the paralyzing sound released her body, the hag was gone.
    Marsais coughed and retched into the earth, as a clamor of armor and steel crashed down the slope, heralding the arrival of the paladins.
    Isiilde scrambled over to her Bonded. “Are you all right?” But he was too sick to answer.
    “What’d you go and try and kiss that thing for, ya daft bastard?” asked Oenghus.
    “It was my fault, Oen. I was trying to help.”
    The giant beamed proudly. “Better to do something than nothing at all.”
    “I should have known he’d move.”
    “It’ll pass,” Oenghus said, slapping Marsais on the back. And indeed it did. Marsais wiped his sleeve across his mouth and straightened, gathering his dignity.
    “What was that thing?” Rivan clutched his sword as if he feared it would disappear.
    “A nasty blighted hag. But according to Marsais’ whisper, it was a drunken mammoth.” Oenghus snatched the bandages from a rock. “I told you not to weave, Scarecrow. Don’t blame me if your fingers are crooked.” He began rewrapping Marsais’ swollen hands.
    “You certainly took your time.”
    “I figured the drunken mammoth would stumble off a cliff.”
    The fog began to thicken, turning a sickly yellow instead of grey. It crawled up the slope, gathering by the second. Acacia gazed downslope, shield held ready.
    “I don’t like this—it feels unnatural.” A baleful howl cut through the thickening mist in answer to her words. When its mournful echo died, the single, urgent call was taken up by a dozen more.
    “That sounds a lot like Blight Hounds,” said Lucas.
    “I’m afraid I angered the hag.”
    “You’ve always had a way with women, Scarecrow.”
    Lucas ignored the banter. “They’ll come with the fog.” He looked to his captain. “And who knows what else.”
    “Then let’s stay ahead of it.”

Eight

    OENGHUS SAEVALDR SET a grueling pace, and Isiilde was thankful for it. She wanted to run as far as she could from the hag and the creeping mist. Running gave her something to do. The howls followed them up the mountain. However, after an hour, her terror transformed into exhaustion. Her guardian did not stop.
    Despite the exertion, she was shivering, and two hours into the journey, she stumbled. Marsais caught her before she collapsed. Without pause, Oenghus hoisted her onto his back, secured her with the long ends of his kilt, and continued the march. Sometime during the long night, she fell asleep bumping against his back. Nymphs were not known for their stamina.
    The sun rose with their steps, greeting the weary group when they reached the ridge. Sensing the warmth, Isiilde stirred, blinking groggily at the transformation. An endless wilderness, of mountains and valleys and tangled forests, blanketed the land.
    They hiked along a ridge. Far below, ruins poked through the distant canopy, marking the start of their journey; or was it another valley with another ruined kingdom? She did not know.
    Isiilde tapped her guardian, and he stopped, helping her down.
    “Will your feet be all right, Sprite?” Oenghus eyed her critically.
    She shrugged. “You spent the first half of my life trying to put boots on me. I don’t see why they wouldn’t be—unless it snows.”
    Oenghus grinned, and ruffled her hair. Marsais fell in beside her with an offering of berries, mushrooms, and a twisted root that he peeled pale slivers from with a knife.
    “How are you feeling?”
    “Hungry,” she said between mouthfuls. “You walked through the night?”
    “Hmm, we thought it wise.”
    “Nothing followed us, I hope?”
    “One can certainly hope.” Marsais stopped and pointed north. “That is where we began. You can see the top of a ruin poking through the trees. And then we went through the caves into the other valley with the hag. Presently, we’re heading south towards those smoke