It was so thick, the world vanished. Pierce could not see so much as a weed in a ditch beside the road. He could not, he realized, see the road. Even the little wyvern ornamenting the long hood of the limo wavered in and out of the sluggishly drifting fog. The driver slowed to a sudden caterpillar crawl, causing Val to pull out his earbuds, and Leith to blink the abrupt nothingness out of his eyes and channel the intercom. “This is not good.” Pierce stared incredulously at the nothing and waited for the strike from behind, the beginning of the pileup along the steep, two-lane highway. “Shall I try to back up, sir?” “Mist,” Val observed with seemingly pointless interest, as though it were a hitherto mythical sea creature. “No,” Leith said tersely. “Don’t back up.” “I think you should get out, sirs. I’ll keep inching along.
