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ate their voices and Reht lost sight of them.
    "How can we fight in this?" Reht said to no one in particular. "The air itself is an enemy."
    The line gradually tightened, the men crowding more closely together. Reht could see maybe three score men, all of them squinting against the rain and magical darkness. Many had blades drawn, though there was no visible enemy.
    The cold seeped into Reht's bones. Mennick, Kelgar, and several more runners rode beside him. Reht looked at their shadowed faces and saw blue lips, pale skin, and uncertain eyes.
    Lightning painted the fog green. Thunder boomed and their horses reared and neighed. Men cursed. He steadied his mount with effort.
    "Steady men!" he shouted. "Steady!"
    The darkness and rain played havoc with his perception. He frequently saw movement at the edge of his vision, ominous hints of creatures or men, but moving forward they found nothing. Shouts from his men sounded from out in the blackness, faint and distant. His men, too, were seeing ghosts, or becoming ghosts.
    "The Shadovar cannot turn us back with wind and darkness," Kelgar shouted, though the shadows hollowed out his words. A few "ayes" answered the big warpriest, but most of the men continued forward in sullen silence.
    "This is uncanny," said Mennick, though Reht barely heard his voice. Mennick pointed. "Look at the trees."
    Stands of trees materialized out of the darkness. Leafless, skeletal, their limbs stuck out of the boles at twisted, agonized angles. Their dry boughs rattled in the wind. The men pointed and murmured.
    Mennick steered his horse close to Reht's side and spoke in a tone only Reht could hear.
    "Do you feel the air, Commander? It has changed. As the storm grows stronger, the air seems to steal strength. I find it hard to breathe. Do you feel it?"
    Reht nodded.
    "The deeper we move in, the worse it is becoming." Reht looked the mage in the eye and saw concern there. The nervous seed in Reht's stomach sprouted leaves. "We've made a mistake," he said.
    The storm was not Shadovar magic. It was something else entirely, something not of Faerűn, and he had led his men right into it.
    "Halt," he said, but his voice broke. He turned to the runners, cleared his throat, kept his voice steady. "Halt! We are calling a halt and turning around. Do it now!"
    "Commander..." Kelgar said.
    Reht threw back his hood and stared at the warpriest. "You see what this is as clearly as I. There are no Shadovar here, priest. This is something else and we need to get clear of it. Now, follow your orders."
    Kelgar stared back, nodded. "Aye, General."
    "I don't know if we'll be able to get out," Mennick said.
    To that, Reht said nothing. He did not know either.
    Word spread but slowly in the rain, in the datkness. The line stopped at last and reorganized for a march out of the storm. Horns sounded, their clarion strangely muffled.
    "On the double quick!" Reht said to his runners. "Pass it on!"
    "The scouts?" Mennick asked, his horse blinking in the rain.
    They had not had word in hours. The scouts were either lost or... something else. Reht shook his head, refusing to give voice to his concerns.
    "They will have to catch up with us."
    Mennick nodded, and looked back into the darkness.
    Orders carried through the pitch, the men prepping to move out on the double quick. The rain abated and some of the men cheered. The darkness, however, remained unrelenting.
    Reht found the absence of rain more ominous than comforting. Black mist curled around the muddy ground, around the twisted dead trees, and around the nervous hooves of their horses, who pranced and neighed. For the first time, Reht realized that he had not seen a wild animal in hours. He stilled his heart and forced calm into his voice.
    "On the double quick! Move!"
    The wind at theit backs swallowed the last of his order as it picked up, howled, and took on a strange keening. The line lurched forward as the cold deepened. Reht's teeth chattered and the hairs on his arms and