Ruslan frowned. He had tumbled out onto a rocky hillside and knew at once something was wrong. He wasn't near the hill with the willow tree where they rested anymore. In fact, he didn't even seem to be in the marshes at all for that matter. How did he get here? Where were the others?
Ruslan turned around and around, calling out to Cassandra until his voice went hoarse. The air tasted foul, and it made him cough. It still had a hint of the metallic sulfur that had nearly choked him. And the sky, now he noticed, looked the wrong color. It had the purplish tint you sometimes got before a storm, except no storm was approaching — there was not a cloud in sight, not even a bird.
He needed to find out exactly where he was and then take the fastest route back if he had somehow wandered far away
