The Seer by Rowan McAllister (reading comprehension books .TXT) 📕

morning passed so slowly it was agony. Ravi kept himself as stiff in the saddle as he could without every muscle in his body cramping, making sure no part of him touched any part of her, if he could help it. Since she was still the best tracker, they took the lead on Horse, but the unnaturally heavy fog made traveling quickly impossible. They had to stop frequently for Shura to get down and check the track.

By what he thought might be noon, judging only by the slight change to the brightness of the fog around them, he’d fallen into a miserable stupor. No one had spoken a word in at least an hour, and even when they did speak, the fog seemed to muffle the sounds. He would have liked to throw a few glares back at Daks as he silently swore at the man for making a miserable trip even worse, but he doubted Daks would have been able to see him do it, and he sure as hells didn’t want to risk locking gazes with Shura in the attempt. He only roused when the stallion suddenly stopped, making Ravi yelp and clutch the saddle.

Shura tugged on the reins and clucked at the beast, but it didn’t move. After a few more tries, she let out what sounded like a curse in what was most likely Cigani and dismounted.

“What is it?” Mistress Sabin called behind them.

“Shura?” Daks called from farther back.

“Wait,” Shura replied, holding up a hand as she took a few steps away, studying the trail and the heavy mist before tipping her head back and squinting upward.

“This is wrong,” she growled. “I must have missed a split in the trail in all this blighted fog. We should have been heading north and east by now, according to the map farmer Vasin drew for us. We’ve been heading farther into the boglands for too long.” She swore another couple of times in her own language while Daks let out a curse of his own. “It’s a good thing this horse is so damned stubborn, or it might have taken me another hour to realize it,” she muttered, coming back to them.

“We’re lost?” Ravi asked and winced as his voice cracked.

Shura narrowed her eyes at him. “Not lost. We just missed the track back there. We’ll have to turn around and try to find it, if this blighted fog will let us.”

She was obviously not in a good mood, so he clamped his mouth shut on any further commentary while she pulled the map from one of the packs. Daks dismounted too and started toward them.

Deciding to take the opportunity presented to him, Ravi dropped awkwardly to the ground to get some blood back in his legs and unlock his spine. Once he was on his feet, his bladder complained, and he moved away from the others as Daks and Shura bowed their heads over the map. Finding somewhere private wasn’t much of a challenge in the heavy curtain of fog, so he didn’t have to venture far off the trail. He could still hear the others discussing their predicament, but as soon as he was “alone,” their voices sounded strangely far off, and an ominous feeling tingled along his spine, sort of like….

Hells!

His chest tightened as he nervously searched his surroundings. This wasn’t a Vision, though, but one of those feelings Daks had told him to look out for.

“Guys,” he called, rushing back to them.

As he drew closer, the mist cleared enough for him to see Shura coming toward him, with Daks a close second. He was just about to explain when he tripped over something hidden in the long grass. As he struggled to right himself, a rope snapped taut near his head, forcing him to duck to the side. He let out an embarrassingly high-pitched yelp as he broke into a stumbling run toward the others.

Daks cried out a warning, and Ravi spun around in time to see the large tree limb barreling toward him, but not in time to do anything more than close his eyes and cringe. The wood caught him in the chest and sent him flying. Before he could even register the pain of the blow, he hit the water. Momentarily stunned, all he could do was sink below the murky surface until instinct took over and he flailed his arms and legs. The bog wasn’t deep, but mud and reeds beneath the surface clutched at him, tangling worse the more he struggled. He started to panic, clawing at whatever clung to his legs as foul-smelling water tried to force its way into his nose and mouth. But then a large body crashed into the water nearby and a strong arm wrapped around his middle.

“Ravi, stop! Stop struggling! I got you,” Daks yelled, and finally the man’s oddly strained voice registered through his terror and he went limp with relief.

Daks pulled him to the solid ground and collapsed next to him as Ravi fell to his hands and knees and started coughing out the foulness he’d inhaled. His chest hurt a lot where the limb had hit him, and it took every ounce of his concentration to try to pull air into his lungs after each cough.

“Ravi, are you all right? Where are you hurt?”

Daks’s voice shook so much Ravi hardly recognized it. He wanted to say something comforting back, but he couldn’t get enough air. Trembling fingers fumbled at his throat, and soon the unbearable weight of the sodden wool cloak fell from his shoulders. Ravi sucked in a relieved breath, thinking he might at last have enough air for a thank-you or a reassurance, but it stuttered in his chest as Daks’s big, frantic hands began roaming his body.

“Tell me where you’re hurt,” Daks rasped.

Ravi had almost reached the point where every breath was no longer agony, but he hesitated, oddly enjoying the attention. Then guilt made him pull away and wave Daks off with one limp hand.

“Give me…