by S A McClure
More torches extinguished.
Emma stood. Her hands shook as she leaned forward slightly. If this thing intended to harm her, why did it continue to pace in the shadows?
She sniffed at the air. It carried the putrid scent of rotting meat and sweat, of a wild animal in the woods. Her hands balled into fists as the memory of being attacked by a beast enveloped her.
“No,” she whispered, taking a step back.
More torches extinguished. There was, maybe, only twenty paces between where the sun disappeared into darkness now. The prowling figure inched forwards. Emma’s mind raced wildly. She couldn’t lead the beast back to where Iris and Grandmother Rel were. She instinctively knew it would be the death of them all.
The beast advanced and Emma took another step back.
There was no one left to save her. Mr. Wolf, if he was still alive, was injured and laying in a room somewhere beyond the shadows—beyond the beast. Grandmother Rel had weakened herself during her confrontation with Balkeen. Iris, no matter how much courage she’d seemingly gained over the past few days, was still her loving, beautiful, daydreaming, weak sister.
There was only her.
She assessed her situation. Countless torches still lined the walls. Their flames danced in curls of smoke. Several smaller passageways branched off from the one she was on. She didn’t know where they led or what other creatures she would encounter. She didn’t know if they would dead-end somewhere along the way, leaving her trapped by the beast.
The creature made a strange, strangled cawing. Her ears twitched at the sound. It had roared, hadn’t it? There was a loud whooshing, the beating of drums, and the shadow beast was mere inches from where the light met the darkness beyond.
She bolted down one of the side corridors. Her feet slipped on the wet stone of the tunnel, but she didn’t let that slow her. The beast’s footfalls chased her. Its hot breath puffed against the back of her neck as it gained upon her. The scent of carrion rammed into her, sending gooseflesh down her arms.
She ran faster.
Her legs burned with the exertion. Closing her eyes, she whispered a quick prayer to the Creators that they would keep her safe. She opened her eyes just in time to see the stone wall looming before her.
She was moving too fast and she was too close to the wall to make a clean turn. At the last second, she gripped the wall and flung herself around the corner. Her legs flew out beneath her and she fell to her knees. She didn’t give herself time to feel the pain. Springing to her feet, she continued down the hall.
The beast slammed into the wall with a loud crunch. It released another strangled cawing sound followed by a roar so loud it shook the walls around her. Still, she didn’t look back.
The sound of claws raking across stone echoed though the corridor. It was so grating that her spine straightened and she had to cover her ears to block out the noise.
She couldn’t run forever. Blood ran down her legs where she’d skinned her knees during the fall around the corner. The heat from the beast’s breath curled around her, spurring her onward. She pushed herself to run faster. Her muscles strained against the increased speed. Sweat dripped down her back as she spun around yet another tight corner. Somehow, she managed to stay on her feet.
The beast was too big to take the turn and it slam into the wall again. It roared. Emma jumped at the sound but knew she had an opportunity.
Ripping one of the torches from the wall, she thrust the flame backwards. The beast roared again. She surged forward, her arms pumping as she navigated through the seemingly endless tunnels. Some were wide, tall, and full of light. Others were narrow and dim.
Balkeen’s animals chattered from several of the tunnels. They seemed to know something was wrong. Their screams were the same as the ones they made in the forest when they were in danger.
She rounded another corner and stumbled over a large object in her path. She skidded across the ground, her already bruised and injured knees taking the brunt of the damage. Tears stung her eyes as she bit back her yelp of pain. Glancing back, she saw that she’d been tripped by a dead bob cat. Its glassy eyes stared at her in the torchlight. She took a precious moment to inspect the dead animal.
There wasn’t any blood.
Chapter Eighteen
Emmaleigh
Emmaleigh lost track of how far she ran. She didn’t know if it was the lack of natural lighting, the smoke-filled caverns, or just the sheer terror of being pursued by a blood-thirsty beast, but she didn’t even feel scared.
All she felt was exhaustion.
It was blinding. It was suffocating. It was real.
She stumbled as she continued to push herself forward. Her bloody knees ached. Her feet felt like large sacks of potatoes: bulky, awkward, and heavy. All she wanted to do was rest.
But she couldn’t.
After the bobcat, she’d found more dead animals drained of blood. She’d lost count of them too.
All of them had been dead. All of them had been like the bobcat.
Petrified.
They were stiff. Their wide-open eyes bulged with terror. None of them had lost a single drop of blood. It was as if whatever had killed them and snuck up on them in the darkness, stared them straight in the eye, and watched as their life was drained from them.
Emma wasn’t sure what sort of monster was capable of something like that. She just didn’t want to find out.
She paused at a fork in the path. Panting, she pressed her hands to her knees and tried to catch her breath. She didn’t have much time. The beast would be upon her again soon. After finding all the deceased animals, she didn’t want to let the monster get close enough to her to do whatever it had done to them.
She drew in a long, deep breath. Holding it in her breast until her lungs burned, she made her decision. The air smelled cleaner—fresher—from the righthand passageway. That could only mean one thing: outside.
She didn’t want to admit that she’d given up hope of escaping the beast. The beast wasn’t giving up its chase and Emma didn’t want to risk it hurting Iris or Mr. Wolf. The idea of leaving them behind left her with an icky, nauseated feeling.
But, she couldn’t let that stop her.
She would either be able to lead the beast away from them and kill it or it would kill her.
She was willing to make that sacrifice if it meant saving the ones she loved. She could feel it in the core of her being, that once she stepped foot outside the mountain, she’d be putting herself at risk. The beast wouldn’t be bound by the confines of the tunnels. It could move around her. Trap her. Kill her.
It was a risk she was willing to take.
Her feet slapped on the stone floor. Water collected in shallow pools, splashing her legs as she dashed through them. The sound of the beast bouncing off the cavern walls thundered through the tunnels behind her.
The tiny pinprick of light that was an exit from the mountain glowed in the distance. She pumped her legs harder. The light grew larger until it enveloped her.
A gust of freezing air slapped her in the face as she emerged from the tunnel. Her chapped skin screamed in pain as she pressed forward. Her hair flitted across her face, nearly blinding her as she stumbled down the narrow path cut into the mountain face.
The strangled cawing sound mixed with the roar echoed from behind her. She yelped as tiny pebbles smacked her in the head, but did not look back. Something in her gut told her that looking at the monster, seeing it for herself, would be the end of her. Maybe it was the way the dead animals’ eyes had stared blankly up at her. Sheer terror had been etched into their expressions.
They’d seen something. Something so horrible they’d been permanently frozen in place.
Emma did not have any intention of meeting the same fate. If she was going to die, she was determined to do so fighting.
A murder of ravens shot from the trees and swarmed her. They clawed at her hair, her clothing, her face with their talons. Her flesh stung as they scratched
her, leaving lines of blood in their wake. She swatted at them, trying to free herself from their grasp.
Nothing worked.
They continued to claw at her, their squawks filling the air. She knew anyone within several hundred paces from her location would be able to hear the ravens. If a traveler or a hunter were in the area, they’d be upon her any moment now. If not, then she was alone in this fight.
Ice and snow crunched beneath the beast’s massive body as it prowled behind her. The ravens pulled in closer to her face. It was as if they were trying to shield her from whatever it was that was tracking her. She could barely see beyond their flapping wings and long, dark feathers.
Growling softly, Emma sprung forward and through the cloud of ravens. Several of them screamed in unison. Her stomach tightened at their anguished cries. There was something so human about the sound.
She pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes. The ravens continued to scream behind her. The beast must be getting close. She only had a small amount of time left before she would have to run again.
Unless she found a weapon.
Think, think, think. She pressed her palms more firmly against her eyes as she tried to block out all the images and noise around her. She couldn’t run forever.
Until recently, she had never been in the forest without a weapon. Grandmother Rel, for better or worse, had drilled it into her head that to be left vulnerable and alone in the woods was the worst possible thing that could happen. ‘Too many monsters in the woods,’ she’d said. ‘Too many opportunities for you to die.’
She had never imagined a scenario in which she would be defenseless.
Tears ran down her cheeks as she considered her options. One thing was for certain. They all led to death. And Emma did not want to die.
She clenched her teeth as she let her hands fall from her face. She knew what had felt like moments for her had really only been a few seconds. The beast was still coming. And she was determined to face it. She was determined to survive.
A fire burned in the pit of her stomach as she dashed between a few rows of trees. Once she had put a small distance between her, the ravens, and the beast was prowling behind them, she leaned back against one of the trees and breathed in deeply. This was it. There was no turning back.
She bent down and wiped snow and ice from the ground as she examined the resources surrounding her feet. There were rocks, some as big as she her hand. Though most had smooth, round edges, there were a few that were jagged and pointy, as if they had been slammed together and broken for this very purpose. An idea sparked within her. She’d practiced making spears during the summer months. There was no reason she couldn’t make one now.
Cold bit into her skin as she used her fingers to excavate the bigger stones from the ground. Then, she snapped a sturdy looking branch from the tree behind her. The tree bounced slightly from the reverberation, sending piles of snow down upon her.
If possible, the ravens’ cry became even more frantic. Her fingers slipped as she tried ripping a strip of cloth from her tunic. Cursing, she dropped the stone and the branch on the ground as she tugged against the tightly woven cloth. The strange, strangled sound of a caw cut through the ravens’ chatter.
It’s too late.
She closed her eyes and yanked on the fabric one last time. She felt it give. Releasing a sigh, she tore the strip off and dropped to her knees. Trying to fight the beast alone had been a stupid idea, she realized. She was positive the makeshift spear wouldn’t put a dent in the beast’s hide.
But it was the best she had.
Chapter Nineteen
Iris
Iris came from the dream, panting. It had been like the others. She had seen him. Felt him. Heard his soft, velvety voice flow over her like a gentle caress. His eyes, the violet of the heather flowers she and Emma picked in the spring, had been glassy and unfocused.
He’d just kept repeating a single phrase over and over again: ‘I am Liam.’
“What did you see this time, child?” Grandmother hissed in her ear the moment she opened her eyes.
Iris shrugged. She didn’t want to share her visions of the mysterious man in the woods with Grandmother. She didn’t want the witch to poison the one thing in her life that was entirely hers. She knew it was silly. She knew it wouldn’t last. But, she wanted to cherish the time she had with him without it being clouded by Grandmother’s overbearing presence.
“I asked you what you saw,” Grandmother hissed as she leaned close to Iris’s ear.
Iris forced herself not to flinch.
“I saw a lot of confusing things,” she said. It was partially true. She had wandered through a misty marchland before concentrating on the forest where she knew she’d find Liam.
Grandmother tapped her sharp nails against Iris’s cheeks. It was a clear sign that she wanted her to continue.
“There was a circle,” she said, closing her eyes and envisioning the scene. “Stones had been set up to form the boundary. I smelled smoke. It took me awhile to find where it was coming from. When I looked around, the mist turned into a thick fog. I couldn’t see the sister moons. I couldn’t see the stars. I couldn’t even see the sky. There was fog all around me.”
Grandmother gripped her arm, her nails digging into the soft spots of her flesh.
“What about the circle?” she pressed.
Iris nodded and visualized the dream again. She was certain there had been cloaked figures standing just inside the stones. They clasped hands. Their chanting voices echoed all around her.
She began shivering.
“Discover who they are,” Grandmother commanded. Her voice seemed so far away now.
Iris squeezed her eyes tighter, trying to block out the vision of Grandmother’s blotchy, red face that blossomed to the forefront of her mind. Biting her bottom lip, she forced herself back into that place.
The wind howled around her, turning the chanting voices into screams. She reminded herself that this was just a dream. It wasn’t real. She was safe. She willed herself to believe it. It wasn’t real, wasn’t it?
The vision sharpened.
The pungent, herbal sent of the powder the cloaked figures dumped upon the fire wafted over her. She pinched her nose, trying to block out the stench. It seemed to linger.
She crept forward. Despite the sense that they could see her, smell her, feel her in that place, she focused her thoughts on the chants. Their words slurred together, melding in a way that was painfully loud yet indistinguishable.
A twig snapped under her foot. The loud crack stretched across the clearing. It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream. No matter how many times she repeated the phrase, she couldn’t make herself believe it.
One of the figure’s raised their head and Iris stilled. She could have sworn the witch saw her. Knew who she was. What she was.
Is that even possible?
The cloaked figure didn’t stop chanting. Even with the shadows of her hood blocking her face, Iris could see the woman’s lips moving.
She closed her eyes, hoping that this would allow her to focus. She caught certain words and phrases as the coven continued to chant. There was something about blood. And a sacrifice. And something else—a word she didn’t remember ever hearing before, but that somehow felt familiar.
And then they said her name.
“Iris Valka.”
They repeated it over and over again, growing louder. They screeched it into the chilled night air. Her stomach tightened. Her breathing quickened. Was this real or just a trick of her mind? She couldn’t be sure. So, she did the only thing she could think to do to make the incessant repetition of her name stop.
She opened her eyes.
And then, she screamed.
Chapter Twenty
Emmaleigh
The sound of a paw clawing at the icy ground rustled just beyond the tree Emma was leaning against. The faint smell of carrion clung to the air. Her chest tightened as she swallowed. Every pulse of
her heart thrummed in ears.
This was it.
She breathed in deeply, letting the cool air calm her mind. She focused on the way the air filled her chest. She forced it down, down, down until it was pressurized in her abdomen. She held it there. She envisioned the attack.
She released the breath in a cloud of mist.
The beast’s shadow stretched over her. She gave herself one more moment to pause. To consider. To see the way the spear would punch into the beast’s hide. She needed to protect Iris. It wasn’t just for herself or for her sister; it was for all the animals she’d found dead in the corridors of Balkeen’s mountain lair. It was for the way the beast had tracked her. Relentlessly pursued her, like a dog on the hunt for the fox.
She was no one’s prey.
She was the huntress. This was what she had been training for her whole life. She had learned to anticipate how both animals of prey and their predators moved in the forest. Her hands might have been clammy. Her spear might have been nothing more than a strip of cloth, a rock, and a branch.
But she was the huntress. And she would prevail.
She jabbed the spear out just as the shadow moved forward. Her makeshift weapon jolted as it collided with the beast. For a moment, she thought it would glance off its hide, but then she felt it give. She closed her eyes, praying to the Light that the branch didn’t snap in her hands. It quivered and bent in her hands. Gritting her teeth, she yanked it out. A spray of sticky, warm blood burst from the wound and the beast roared.
She opened her eyes in time to see the beast’s rear end disappear into the shadows across from her. It was massive—larger than she had even imagined. Its paws left impressions in the snow that were larger than both of her feet put together. Its body reminded her of the snow tigers she’d seen in books, but never in person. Spikes ran down its spine. Its tail was tucked between its legs, but she could just see the barb at its end. Just before it slinked into the shadows, it stretched out a pair of long, midnight black wings.