Benji helped her up and guided her quickly away. “The branches can come free and trap you. They will feed on you just as well as they will feed on the marsh.”
She shivered. “Feed on me? I thought you said this place was vibrant once.”
“Just because a place is harsh doesn’t mean it can’t be vibrant.” He glanced at her. “There are some who would feel the same way about encountering your homeland as you do about this place.”
“How have the Sul’toral claimed this area?”
“Because it is inactive. It became unprotected. And without any protections, there are none who can ensure that the Sul’toral will not abuse it.”
“And then what happened?” Imogen asked.
Benji frowned, his head tilted up, smelling the air. “I have not been able to see that. It is surprising. For many years, thirteen have remained quiet. It was a better time.”
“What has happened to them?”
“Now, or what happened to them in the past?”
“Now, I suppose.”
“Whatever prison was holding them has since failed. They have begun to exert their influence on the world once again. We were safe, but now it is no longer as safe as it had been.”
Imogen could only nod. She’d known the names of many of the Sul’toral since childhood, and had known there were more than she’d ever heard named, and the idea of so many roaming free in the world worried her.
“Can they be stopped?” she asked.
He looked over to her. “What has your experience told you?”
“I don’t think we killed L’aran.”
Benji paused, his eyes going distant for a moment. Finally, he shook his head. “No. You did not.”
“And then this Dheleus?”
“If he has chosen to come to the Shadows of the Dead and reactivate these lands, there is a reason.”
“What reason is that?”
“The only thing the Sul’toral care about. Power.”
He was silent a little while longer as they meandered from one dry section of ground to another. Benji managed to take an angling course, somehow always keeping them on harder soil despite how difficult it was to see through the fog.
“What kind of power would the Sul’toral be able to get in this land?”
“There are many types of power in the world. This place would grant access to a specific and twisted kind. It is one that would possibly allow their leader to achieve his ultimate goal.”
She shivered. “Sarenoth.”
He glanced over to her and nodded. “Most fear to speak his name.”
“It’s just a story.”
“No, Imogen Inaratha, the stories you’ve heard of Sarenoth are very much real.”
Benji remained quiet, and there was a part of her that wanted him to say something, even if it was useless to her, but she also knew there was nothing much he could do or say that would ease her mind.
Something appeared in front of her, mixed into the fog. She unsheathed her sword and raced forward, blending a series of her patterns together. If there was sorcery, she would disrupt it. Her blade was precise as she slid forward, the angles necessary so that she could carve through any particular spell a sorcerer might use on her. And she could feel sorcery pressing around her.
Benji emerged out of the fog with a deep, worried frown that creased his brow as he watched her. “We must be ready. It is the Shadows of the Dead. They have begun to move.”
“Why do I get the sense that this is something dangerous?”
“Because everything here is dangerous.”
Benji leaned forward, and he traced his hand along the swamp grasses, whispering to them. Imogen wasn’t sure if they would react to him the same way the grasses out on the plains had, but a breeze rolled in and seemed to carry some of the wind and fog away, until even that faded.
“Keep doing what you are doing,” he said.
The pale fog pressed back in on them, something almost physical now. Imogen could feel the way it squeezed her, could feel the energy within the fog, as if it were crackling and trying to constrict them.
She waited a moment, hesitating.
It was a moment too long.
A low, mournful sound came from the fog.
“What was that?” she asked, voice little more than a whisper.
“It’s a manalak.”
Imogen looked over to him, expecting him to explain more, but he said nothing as he continued into the fog. “And what is a manalak?” she said.
“Another creature that should not be.”
She started forward, tracing through a series of patterns.
Benji glanced over to her. “The marshland wasn’t always dark like this. I remember a time when it was bright. Almost welcoming, in fact.” He shook his head. “Time changes so much.”
“What was it like?”
“The marsh? You saw the village. There were others like it. It was a time when people didn’t fear coming through here. Exploring, even living. There was life. Vibrancy. There was—”
“Magic?”
Benji chuckled. “Is that what it is all about for you?”
Imogen shrugged. “I’m not exactly sure. It seems that a place like this would be powerful.”
“Oh, but it is. Especially as it twisted into something darker.”
“And the Sul’toral? Were they the ones who twisted it?”
“They would like to think they did.”
She continued through the fog but stayed away from the sacred patterns. In this place of sorcery, her traditional patterns would be more beneficial. They would disrupt any magic that was here, would offer her a level of protection that she wouldn’t have otherwise.
There came a faint surge of light, which she hadn’t seen before. It reminded her of Master Liu and the way he’d fought when he had demonstrated the patterns to her.
Another creature howled nearby.
“Another manalak?” she asked, pausing and looking at Benji.
“Do not stop,” he snapped.
Imogen continued to flow through her patterns. She had slowed, but it was only for a moment. And in that time, the fog began to swarm them again, forcing her to continue moving the blade outward and sweeping it toward the darkness. She worked as quickly as she could, trying not to pay attention to the power that was out there, but she could not ignore it.
It was building.
At one point, the fog swirled, and Imogen reacted by flowing toward it. She brought her blade around, using a mixture of patterns to do so. This was nothing she had learned, but the combination felt right.
The air continued to sizzle around her, leaving her feeling like there was something more than the fog. Sorcery had to be here. Her skin tightened, though a chill worked along the surface of her arms, leaving goose pimples.
Something cold and dangerous.
There was another crackle near her. She had to be ready. If there were other creatures here like Benji had suggested, then she wanted to be prepared for them, and prepared to stop them.
She spun, and a strange face appeared out of the darkness. The massive figure looked something like a terrible wolf, and it towered over her, causing her to freeze. Everything within her went numb.
This creature was nothing like the adlet. At least the adlet was easy enough for her to get her mind around, but this… This was something else. This was a creature that was both larger and more horrific than anything she had ever encountered before.
Imogen suspected that it was the manalak Benji had referenced, though she had never seen one before. The only things she had ever seen like this was the hyadan, dark creatures that consumed power, along with stone enchantments that seemed to take on a life of their own.
She hadn’t realized it before, but the fog had started to swirl around her. She lost sight of Benji.
The creature howled again. This time, the cry was low and mournful. Imogen swept her blade to buy herself some time and jumped to the side, but she wasn’t fast
enough. She could feel that she wasn’t.
Her mind drifted back to those lessons she had learned all those years ago—ways to increase her speed. That was what she needed now. But as she attempted to find that, other lessons drifted into her mind: Master Liu telling her it wasn’t about speed, that it was about her flowing through the patterns. She had never understood that even then.
Imogen needed speed, as well as precision. That was how she was going to destroy this creature. That was how she was going to escape.
The manalak grabbed for her. In the fog, it was difficult for her to make out much of anything, only the strange darkness and power that existed. Another howl came from behind her, and Imogen flowed with the patterns. They carried her toward another manalak. The creatures were enormous, and though she could feel energy building, she had to remain focused on her patterns.
Benji stumbled back toward her, crouching down and whispering words she couldn’t understand.
“What are you doing?” Imogen hissed.
“I am trying to handle this creature.” He continued whispering for another moment before he turned and peered up at her. “And you must find the understanding you have been looking for. We will need that, I’m afraid.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Remember the lessons you were taught. That is what you must understand.” He turned his attention back to the fog and the wind.
“What does it take to bring down a manalak?” Imogen asked.
He chuckled. “Luck.” He continued whispering, and the wind picked up. “Keep moving.”
The sense of magic prickled along her skin, leaving it raw and exposed. She ignored it and fell into her patterns, focusing on the sorcery around her, the resistance she could feel.
“We must keep moving,” Benji said.
One of the enormous creatures appeared in front of her. Its eyes seemed to pull in the darkness around them, as if absorbing both the shadows and the fog. The manalak swept at her, and one of its meaty paws caught her on the shoulder. Hot pain bloomed where it grabbed her, and it threw her to the side.
Imogen scrambled to her feet. As she flowed through the patterns, feeling the energy of the fog around her, she could tell that there was something else within it. Something more.
Follow the patterns.
She listened and stayed within them, losing herself in the patterns themselves. She had to focus them through the sword. Then she had to wait for the crescendo and use that in order to unleash the power she knew was there. Imogen had seen it done before. That was what Master Liu had wanted her to understand. Find a way to build upon that crescendo, and then she could use it.
When the power charged fully, she unleashed it.
The fog dissipated, revealing three manalak in front of her.
They were giant creatures that had heads like a wolf’s, massive jaws, and the lower half of an enormous, hairy man. They looked like the reverse of an adlet.
Imogen had not trained for this. This was not about fighting a sorcerer. She had depended on her traditional patterns for defeating that type of magic, which was what she had trained with the Leier to manage. That was all she knew. But against these creatures, those patterns weren’t going to be enough.
She ducked out of the way of one creature, barely avoiding its massive paw as it swept toward her head. Would her speed be enough? This was going to be about more than that. She needed something else.
She was not fighting a sorcerer. She was fighting a monster. Three of them.
Imogen held her blade in front of her and focused her thoughts. Then she started forward, flowing and following the patterns.
She darted underneath the fist of one of the monsters, bringing her sword up and around, hacking at its hide. Strangely, as she did, her blade carved through the manalak as if her weapon was blazing with fire and the creature was nothing but ice. She drifted toward the next one, keeping her blade elevated. As she swept around, she caught the next monster in the belly and sliced upward, causing it to let out a shriek.
She withdrew the blade and felt movement near her. She spun around again. This time, as she brought the sword around, it connected with the manalak and split it right through the middle. Blood sprayed outward, hot and unpleasant, and Imogen danced away from the monster’s body as it fell and contorted. She continued her spin, bringing her blade around, and she felt something burning within her.
Maybe she’d been struck. She would have to worry about that later, but for now, she had to focus. To keep moving. To keep fighting.
“Down,” a whispered voice said, carried on the wind.
Imogen dropped, following the instruction without even knowing what she was doing, and the manalak tumbled past her. She popped back up on her feet, scrambled around, and spun her weapon in a sharp arc. As she danced forward, she could feel the heat and fire.
The fog cleared around them, and several of the creatures were lying motionless. Imogen stabbed one of them, but it didn’t move.
“It isn’t getting up,” Benji said, coming toward her.
Imogen continued looking around, though in a place like this, she doubted she would be able to track her brother well. Out on the plains, or even through the forest, it might be different. But traveling through the marsh, trudging through space that was covered with mud and water, he could have gone anywhere.
Timo had decided to do it on his own. He had decided to go without her, all because he didn’t want to travel with Benji. And maybe because of her.
The fog stretched around Imogen, and she started to move ahead when Benji rested a hand on her arm. There was a slight tingling sensation, a tension along her skin, and she looked over to meet his eyes.
“Moving forward will be dangerous,” he said.
“I have to find my brother.”
Benji tipped his head to the side, sniffing the air. “I don’t detect him anymore, and the wind tells me nothing.”
“What about the swamp?”
“The swamp is a bastard. It doesn’t want to talk either.”
The fog was too dense, yet Imogen knew she had no choice. “We have to continue crossing the Shadows of the Dead.” She thought of her brother. He would need her help. “I’m not going to lose him.”
She said the last part mostly to herself.
“You have questioned your purpose, along with your bond. Is this a new bond for you?”
She sensed the deeper meaning. She didn’t know why he was asking. There had to be something to what Benji sought, though she didn’t know what it was or what other purpose he had.
Was he trying to push her along some path?
It didn’t matter. Not anymore. The only thing that mattered was finding Timo.
“I need to go,” she said.
“It will be dangerous. And I’m afraid the manalak are just the beginning.”
Chapter Nineteen
Darkness continued to swirl around them, stretching out like another layer of fog over the Shadows of the Dead. Imogen held her hand close to her side, ready to reach for her sword in a moment’s notice, though she began to wonder if it was only her unease and not that there was actually something out here.
Benji glanced over. “You do not need to be so concerned. The Shadows have retreated.”
“They might’ve retreated, but you said that this is still a place of power. I’m just trying to be careful.”
“It’s not just that you must be careful. You must be ready.” His gaze drifted to her sword, and then he watched her for a long moment.
What did he want from her? Was it only about her understanding her sacred patterns? Imogen had tried, but even as she had attempted to understand them, she had failed. There was only so much she could understand.
Timo had gone through here on his own, chasing danger, all because he thought he needed to complete this aspect of his bond quest. All because he believed he had somehow failed.
“Do you detect anything I might be able to use to h
elp me find my brother?” she asked Benji.
“No.”
She paused, looking over to him. “You were whispering to the trees, the grasses, and the swamp before, and you can’t even do that now?”
He frowned and shook his head. “Not in this land. Perhaps when we stop for the night.”
“Where do you intend for us to stop?” Imogen glanced around. “There is nothing here, and I certainly don’t want to rest.”
“There are ways of protecting ourselves, even here.”
“You have been nervous about this place, though,” she pointed out.
“Appropriately so. I have told you the purpose of this land.”
“You have.”
“And knowing that, you can prepare for it. Besides, the wind and the water can keep guard for us.”
“You may be able to rest,” she said. “I cannot.”
“You will reach a time when you can go no farther.”
“If that time comes, I will rest. Until then, I’m going to keep moving.” In the distance, she noticed shadows drifting, sliding across the ground ever so slowly. “How much more do you think we will have to fight through?”
“The shadows have retreated,” he said.
She pointed into the distance. “They might’ve retreated, but we’re heading toward them. So the question remains: how much more do you think we will have to face?”
“I don’t know.”
She had come of her own volition, so she couldn’t blame him for what they had encountered, but she could blame him for not protecting Timo. Imogen had no idea what she might confront here. There was a strangeness all around her that was in the energy in the air, the stillness of it, and the steady tension along her skin that suggested ongoing magic. She could feel it all, and she understood none of it.
Benji followed her, but every so often he would pause and trace his hands through the air. Then he would crouch down and touch the ground, though not nearly as tentatively as he had before.
Unbonded (First of the Blade Book 1) Page 19