I grip the water container. "Is that..."

Killian snaps into motion, marching to where he discarded the tent. "Grab the other end," he orders. "Pin it to the ground with the pins."

I glance at the hill we came from, heart pounding. "We have to get back."

"Grab the other end, Freya."

"We have to warn the others!"

"By the time we get to the others, we'd both be engulfed in the cloud." The patience in his voice wanes. "Grab the other end. Now."

I follow his orders, pinning the corners to the ground with trembling hands as he pitches the centre with a log from beside the stream. Scrambling to get the water containers, I catch a glimpse of the fog. The crawl seems more like a sprint as it obscures the top of the stream from view, barrelling through the valley.

"Freya," Killian urges, grabbing my wrist and shoving me inside the tent. I pull my knees to my chest, trying to fit inside the claustrophobic space. My head reaches the roof of the material. Killian barrels in behind me, pulling the material shut and pinning it beneath the weight of the water containers to keep it in place.

"Cover your mouth and nose," he instructs, pulling a bandana from inside his coat and handing it to me. I secure it behind my head, watching as he does the same with a cloth.

Our knees knock together as we sit on opposing sides, the material of the tent rippling as the wind picks up.

"Killian," I whisper. "Killian, what if they don't--"

"They'll see it in time," he says. "Right now, we need to worry about ourselves." I wish I could have the same faith in her that he does. But his words do little to ease the anxiety brewing in my stomach. He looks at me, dark eyes serious. "Pull it higher, so it covers your nose too."

My fingers shake as I tug the cloth higher. The wind thrashes against my back, slithering beneath the gap in the opening and blasting it open. Killian swears, leaning forward to take hold of the material and pull it back in place. Over his shoulder, I catch a glimpse of the outside. The fog lingers only feet away.

"Killian!"

He pulls it across just in time, securing it with all three water containers this time and leaving his hand at the bottom. His chest rises and falls in a rapid motion as a large gust of wind ripples the walls around us before it falls entirely still.

Then, there's no sound at all. Not the trickle of the stream outside, nor the distant whisper of the wind, only the sounds of our hearts thumping in our chests. The eerie silence is evidence enough. We are submerged.

"Killian," I whisper. He sits with his back to me, still gripping the material. He doesn't turn. "Are you..."

Slowly, he releases his grip, shifting backwards. The lower half of his face, like mine, remains concealed by the cloth as he leans back to meet my gaze. We're mere feet away, but in the complete absence of noise, I can't help but want to shift closer.

I glance at the walls of the tent, completely still in the absence of wind. "Will the tent keep it out?"

"It depends how long it lasts."

"How-how long does it usually last?" I whisper.

He hesitates. "I don't know."

Shifting forward so his face is concealed from view, he puts his hand on the opening again, fisting the material.

Tugging my knees to my chest, I wrap my arms around my body. I've been in and lived through the cloud twice now, but that does nothing to dissuade the fear. My mind replays the scene in the forest, where I found Cadence with the rock in her hand--Raven's dead body, the crusted blood around the caved in part of her forehead.

The memory lurches into something else, a noise. It's all too familiar, a noise that curdles my blood. Samu. The scream rattles the inside of my brain, coming from all around me, luring me outside of the walls of the tent. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to shove it out, but that only makes it louder.

Samu isn't here. He's safe. He's with Sanaa. He isn't here.

"How come you were okay that first time you rescued me from the cloud?" I ask. "Does it not affect you?"

"I wasn't exposed to it for long enough time. No one is immune." He pauses. "Except, maybe you."

I shudder. "I still hear them. Both Samu and my father. I hear them now."

"And yet you're still here, not out there in the cloud looking for them. Because you can tell it isn't real."

I tug my knees to my chest. "Who do you hear in the cloud?"

He hesitates. For a moment, I wonder if my question was over the line. But then, he sighs. "My family, mostly. The cloud chooses what's most cruel. What's most tempting. The dead are usually the most likely culprits."

"You once told me you weren't sure if your parents were still alive," I say. "Was that true?"

He nods. "I never saw them die. But sometimes, I wonder if their fate was worse than death."

An image rises to mind of that infected shifter, feasting on the horse carcass. "They were infected." He nods. "And you think I might be able to cure them?" I whisper. "That if the cloud goes away, so will the evocian?"

"Sanaa hopes so. I don't know."

The pressure of his words presses me into the ground, a weight so crushing it makes it difficult to breathe.

"Can I tell you something?" Killian asks, voice low. I nod eagerly. "Sometimes I wonder if... if even if you could bring them back, if you should."

I think of Cadence, what she did to Raven. What would she think if she knew?

"Nobody would blame them for what the cloud made them. They might not even remember the things they could've done. Like Cadence."

"Maybe not, but they'd notice that one of their children wasn't there anymore. And they'd ask questions where the answer could destroy them entirely."

I meet his gaze, his words settling in. In the forest, after what Cadence did to Raven, I had wondered based on Lei's reaction if something similar had happened to someone Killian knew. His words merely confirm my predictions. And despite all the lies and questions about the truth of what he tells me, sitting in the dead silence of the tent with only each other as company, I believe him.

"I'm sorry, Killian."

But no words can make up for the loss tugging at his heart. I know that from my father, from the way people treated me in the aftermath.

We settle into a silence far from comfortable, only disrupted by the distant, agonising screams from Samu.

I focus on the feeling of the earth beneath me, the small peddle stabbing into the skin of my shin. The screams don't dull. They don't become less painful, any quieter or less agonizing. But they're not real. I open my eyes, opening my hands.

Half-moons indent bloodied skin. My stomach lurches as I think of Casimir, Lei and Juem, further up the hill. The cloud had been rolling through the valley, but it was too dark to see whether it came across the top, too.

"If something happened, we would hear them," I say. "If they got stuck in it, they'd be screaming or something." Killian doesn't answer, barely moves. "Right?"

He doesn't turn. Shuffling closer to him, I catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are squeezed shut, his head lowered. My stomach drops. Tentatively reaching out, I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Killian?" His eyes flash open, meeting mine. "A-are you alright?"

His eyes dart around, as if coming to the realisation of where he is. "Tell me something," he says, voice low.

"Tell you what?"

"Something, anything." He sounds more desperate, almost begging. "Just talk. Distract me."

My heart goes into overdrive. "I..." I scramble for something on my mind, trying to shove out the ear piercing screams that rattle inside of my brain. Not real. Not real. Not real.

"I... I think when this is all over, I want to travel." His chest rises and falls at a rapid rate, but he doesn't drop my gaze. "I want to go all around Elel. I want to visit Irech lake in the east. My father told me it's larger than the whole of Veymaw, that you can't even see from one side to the other. Have you seen it?" Killian shakes his head. "It's supposed to be good for swimming in the summer, at least that's what my father told me."

He looks at me, but a glassy film coats his eyes. "Maybe I can go further than Elel. To Ayrith and maybe all the way to Llyn." His head snaps to the right. "Have you been there? Killian?"

He doesn't hear me, doesn't see me. A wave of tension rolls throughout his entire body as he stares over my shoulder, as if seeing something in the folds of the material.

"Valerie," he whispers. "Valerie."

I follow his gaze. "Killian, there's nobody there."

He repeats her name, voice growing more strangled. I put my hand over his. "Hey." I dig my nails in. "Who are you seeing? Who do you hear?"

His breath quickens. "Valerie."

"Who is Valerie?" He squeezes his eyes shut, lets out a disgruntled grunt. "Killian."

"Valerie is... she was my sister."

My mind sprints to make connections to what little he has revealed about his life. From the look on his face as he recalled running through the marsh away from his sister into a nest of skinks, to the expression as he spoke of her death. Beside me, Killian shifts. The tension in his muscles tightens beneath my grip. When I heard my father and brother screaming in the cloud for the very first time, I didn't hesitate. Neither did Cadence when she rushed from the cabin, despite her terror.

Something tells me I don't have long before Killian does the same.

With a shaky breath, I put both my hands on his shoulders. "Valerie isn't out there." I try to turn him to look at me, but he's too sturdy. "Hey, Killian, look at me. Valerie isn't here."

His breath turns ragged, body turning away. I desperately maneuver myself between him and the tent entrance. If he moves forward, he'll push me out into the open.

"Valerie is dead. She isn't out there."

His gaze cuts to me, sharp. Those eyes flash through a range of emotions I can't possibly keep up with their frantic movements. "How do you know that?"

"You told me that yourself. You said you know she is. You... you saw her die."

His eyes blaze into mine, melting my brave exterior. With each second that passes, I can't help but wonder if I'm helping or just signing his death warrant.

"If you go out there, you're not going to find Valerie. You won't find anything but the cloud. The cloud that took your country and your parents and turned them into monsters against their will. Is that what you want?"

"Valerie--"

"She's not real." I grab his hand, wrap it tightly within my own. "Focus on what is. Can you feel my hand?" He doesn't nod, just closes his eyes. I tighten my grip. "That's real. I'm real, and you're real, and this tent is real. Think of the stones beneath us, can you feel them piercing into your skin, leaving indentations? And the rough material." I grab a section of the tent and place it on his arm. "That's real too."

"Freya," he whispers. I lean forward. "Freya, you need to knock me out."

"W-what?"

"Just do it, please, I can't..." To my left, my fingers clasp around a smooth edged rock. "I can't shut them out like you can. I can't promise I won't--"

He cuts off, flashing his eyes open and looking straight over my shoulder, like an animal that's caught sight of its prey. It's like I'm not even there. I can use that to my advantage. And as his hand motions to grab the dagger at his waist, I raise my hand and bring the rock to the back of his head.