Dark eyes opened to darkening skies. The rich blue had drained away from the heavens above, leaving in its wake a pewter gray stratosphere. The clouds roamed about as if being ferried down stream, and the world above continue to darken to the edge of night. Moisture licked the air, carrying with it an electric buzz.

  Growing dread creeped through Morrigan's body, like snakes in a pasture. Impulse told her to look down at her pendant. Her quick movement gave no time for her lenses to transition. Spots of white-gold filled her eyes, nearly blinded by the sight.

  “Auah!” Morrigan said, closing her eyes.

  "What's wrong?” Carol asked.

  "Get up! Get up!" Morrigan grumbled in the most direct tone she could muster. She struggled to her feet, eyes red with pain, her body trying to keep up with the sudden movement.

  Morrigan scolded herself for that rookie mistake. She knew better than to look down at her necklace like that. Even trained herself to give her glasses a few moments before they look down. She rubbed her eyes in circles, like a person waking up from a deep sleep, and careful not to knock off her glasses.

  She needed to get her eyesight back. And they need to get moving. Now.

  “Are you up now, Carol?” Morrigan asked.

  “Yes! I'm up, I'm up!” Carol said, sounding exasperated. “What's going on? What’s wrong with you? We were having such a good chuckle and now you're acting like a madwoman. It's very unbecoming behavior for a young lady, I’d tell you.”

  Morrigan noted Carol’s chastisement, but ignored it for now. She was just glad that Carol sounded as if she were standing, and close.

  “The pendant”

  “Yes? It's glowing like the headlights from our Range Rover. Blinds me all the time. Oh!” Carol said, suddenly understanding the obvious. “You’re blinded my dear!? I’m so sorry! I hate when that happens. But if your mood-ring-necklace is that bright, you must really like my company.”

  “No, Carol! That’s not—” Morrigan sighed, frustration and pain interfering with her usual clear-headed thinking. “I mean, yes, it blinded me. But the pendant is not just a ‘mood ring.’ Can’t you feel it?” Morrigan asked, blinking her eyes open, her head tilted to the sky.

  “Feel what?” Carol asked?

  Before Morrigan spoke, she heard a faint buzzing off somewhere amongst the gnarled trees. “The feeling, like before a rainstorm?”

  “The husband can. Says his knees start feeling weird right before a thunder storm. He says he can always tell.”

  “No! Well…” Morrigan sighed, trying to explain the sensation. “Yes… but no ‘rain’ is coming. It’s the same kind of feeling when the hairs on your skin stand up, but there is no explainable reason for it. It’s magic.”

  “I tell you, whenever I get an invitation to one Gertrudes tea parties, the hairs on my whole body stand up — even on my eyebrows, and those are waxed off!” Carol said with a laugh.

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  Morrigan sighed, the sound mostly muffled the growing buzzing she heard. But the frustration at her inability to explain the concept to a woman who should clearly see the environmental changes going on around her, got the best of her attention. “No Carol. Listen. What I’m saying is that my pendant glows when there is significant use of magic in the vicinity. ”

  “So it's like a mood ring for magic?” Carol asked.

  Morrigan’s eyes open completely. Spots still danced across her vision, but she could see more-or-less. But she didn’t need clear vision to see that something was up. There was magic in the air, and Morrigan knew it.

  This time she looked down slowly, allowing her glasses to track. The greyscale above was a deep contrast to the bright pendant hanging from Morrigan's necklace.

  “Yes, a mood ring for magic,” Morrigan said, choosing to accept Carol's layman terms for the magical item.

  Morrigan laid her eyes upon Carol, who stood right next to her. Carol had her hand behind Morrigan’s, back, ready to catch her if she fell. She however, didn’t touch Morrigan — like Carol knew that would bother her. Surprised by the gesture Morrigan almost smiled. But that expression flattened the moment she could see dark gray rolling in from the gnarled treescape like fog. It was a distance away, but there was no question that it was moving towards them.

  Morrigan uttered quiet profanities under her breath.

  “What’s wrong darling? You seem vexed?”

  “Observe. Orient. Decide. Act on your hypothesis. Just like science,” Morrigan said, her mind racing through protocols, and her heartbeat quickening. She felt nausea as her eyes darted about. The blatant amount of magic in the air felt like a smothering, weighted blanket wrapped around her face, pressing down on her shoulders, and constricting her torso, while simultaneously leeching through her abdomen and rattling her insides.

  The discomfort made it hard for her to focus as she took in her surroundings; the lingering spots in her vision didn’t help either. The world around them was at the cusp of night, lit by a jaundice-yellow sun. She scanned through the gnarled trees, and around her, looking for movement, threats, and options.

  Morrigan look to the left and right of them. The trees on either side of path, which were creepy during the day, took on a haunting image in the pale light. Many of them in this section were dead, with ash-grey scaled bark. Curving at awkward angles, they reminded her of colossal ribs sticking out of the earth. Dead vines clung to them, looking like dried veins. A rancid breeze blew through their brown clusters of leaves, making them look like decayed lungs that just inhaled. One cluster fell, and Morrigan swore she heard a wet plop sound.

  Then there was the buzzing. Did it come from the same location, or somewhere else? She wasn’t sure.

  Morrigan struggled to see further out. The spots, while fewer, still danced across her eyes; the rancid wind caused them to water, blurring her vision; and the tinting from her large framed glasses was still in effect, protecting her from the glaring light of her charm, but at the same time, making it hard to see into shadows.

  But she didn’t see anything, she thought, beyond the fog. The creeping fog was still a city-block’s distance away. Beyond that, or inside of it, she couldn’t tell. And a gut feeling told her that she didn’t want to know either.

  Whipping her head around, she saw that the fog came in on all sides, except for the path leading to the Bog Hag’s Hut. It appeared the sky, some distance off in that direction, was still blue. Morrigan began speaking to herself. “Surrounded on three sides with no cover, no backup, and only one way out.” Morrigan sighed at the thought, knowing that she could be funneled directly into a trap. “A choice is better than no choice. Decide and act.”

  “La Fey?” Carol asked, leaving the question to hang in the air. The question reached Morgan’s ears even though she didn’t respond for an extra few seconds.

  Morrigan slipped a hand into Carol’s, clasping it with the tenderness afforded to an older family member. She turned to face Carol, ensuring to make eye contact with the older woman.

  “Carol, I’ll get you out of this. Just listen to what I tell you. And don’t let go unless I say so. Ok?” Morrigan said, putting effort to sound both reassuring but direct.

  “Of course Morrigan, I —,” Carol’s words drifted off, her eyes grew wide, and she let out a scream — a scream that barely rose above the buzzing that came their way.