by Lisa Daniels
What use had any of it been?
The feeling of her own incompetence ate her up inside. Her knee danced, and light popped away from her, fading from yellow to an acid green.
“So,” Winifred said, “about that weaving lesson I was supposed to give you... now’s as good a time as any.” She attempted a small grin. “You need to learn how to adhere light to a stationary, non-living object.”
Kiara shrugged. Probably best to try and distract herself. Winifred began talking her through the motions, explaining that magic wasn't as simple as some people made it out to be. “You always need good focus to do any of the things you need—even with just manifesting it.”
Kiara choked back a laugh at this. She didn't really have good focus. She barely had any focus at all when it came to things. Always needing to move somewhere, to do something, to follow the next interesting thing to present itself.
“However,” Winifred said, “each, uh, level of magic requires something different from you. A different kind of focus, a special area of concentration that can't be shaken, no matter what happens. Like a... second brain in your mind, tucked away.”
Again, Winifred started going into the territory that fast made Kiara bored—though she did somewhat explain it better, in a more engaging way than all the tutors before. All this nonsense about concentration. Kiara knew she didn't have it, knew she couldn't dark well focus on anything long enough. The anger trickled inside her. All she did was suck the magic and fail miserably at what it had to offer. People could spend years trying to rise up the levels. They could be taught how to use their weavings—once they reached said level of weaving. But anything before that—she needed to learn by herself.
But how did you make a brain always distracted by things focus?
That's not entirely true, is it? Kiara did focus on things. If an idea seized her attention, she could carry it through faster than anyone else, in an immediate manner. She became obsessed with completing, with blocking out everything else until that one thing was done. Like her treehouse.
And she really, really wanted to get out of this carriage.
The carriage drew to a halt, just as Kiara considered this idea, only half-listening to Winifred's explanation. Yes, she needed to feel the magic, to find it, to impress her will upon it.
The sounds of people getting off the carriage, of horses being unlatched and hastily retreating, drew the attention of both women. They waited until the sounds died off. Until nothing remained but the faint murmur of wind, and their breaths within the confined space—and a cold draught coming from somewhere.
“Guess they don't want to stick around,” Kiara said. She shivered in her black dress, wrapping the thin coat around her better and buttoning it up. The gloves helped, too. Winifred sighed, before they heard a strange, whispering kind of snarl echo from outside. Instantly, both women froze. They stared at each other, frightened—and soon the noises congregated nearby. Then something scratched at the carriage, perhaps trying to claw a way in.
Kiara forgot how to breathe for a moment, not daring to draw too much attention. Winifred went pale, letting all her weavings die out, until only the glows of their necklaces remained. The scratching and snarling continued, and the women huddled together, united in their terror.
Of course. In the Endless Dark, the monsters lived. The ones without light. Nameless creatures and horrors that threatened to extinguish the last standing lights of humanity. Interesting, Kiara thought, that people never gave an exact description for these creatures. They always left it so vague, and the vagueness added to the terror. Because if you didn't understand what you fought against, what you needed to defend against, then how did you look such a thing in the eye and not quail with fear?
The carriage began rocking from side to side, before it lurched, and stayed at an awkward angle.
We're sinking, Kiara realized. They must have taken us out to the muskeg. Well, wasn't that just fantastic.
Whatever thing that tried to get at them from the outside soon stopped. They needed to escape now. Regardless of whether the thing waited for them or not. The carriage made a rather ominous creak, moving again.
“Dark take this place,” Winifred cursed, now erupting in light again. She weaved intricate orbs that soon illuminated every nook and cranny, before both women resorted to trying to bash in the main door. Dead if they stayed, possibly dead if they escaped. Not much of an option, either way.
And this stupid door didn't want to budge.
Kiara let out a frustrated scream. I must get out of here! We must! She balled up her hand, shaking with fear and anger, cheeks flushed, again inhaling the light. The desire to get out consumed everything else in her mind, and she felt a strange pressure building up in her skull, as if the light she had inhaled now formed a kind of dam there.
The light leaked out through her hand, as it had done a thousand times before. With some difficulty, she linked that strange blockage in her mind with the light dissipating outside her skin. With Winifred's floating orbs, which seemed to draw themselves to Kiara, as if attracted.
Something burned in Kiara's arm, along her fist, and, with another shriek, she slammed her fist into the door, over and over, just needing to somehow make a dent in the wood, just to somehow find a way through, no matter how much it hurt her knuckles in the process.
Kiara's fist crunched right through the wood.
Instantly, she withdrew her hand, and with it, the light around her continued to sparkle, showing a shape that had formed on the ends of her hand. Short and sharp. Confused, she pressed the light against the door and felt a pressure again. Like the dam. And when she pushed, her hand again sunk through the wood. It bent before her as if it were little more than paper.
“What in the endless dark?” Winifred gaped. Her mouth hung open, completely unable to register what had just happened. Kiara, however, swiped her hand through the wood, and the door crumbled off at the hinges, dropping onto spongy ground below.
“Huh,” Kiara said. “Neat.”
“That's not possible,” Winifred said. “What you're doing is impossible.”
“Guess I'm just an impossible person,” Kiara said, now clambering through the broken entrance. The connection in her mind stayed, like a light that had appeared in the murk, permanently illuminating her newfound thoughts.
Now out onto the morass, Kiara tried revealing more of the area. Unfortunately, her newfound powers didn't seem to do the level three thing she needed to do. Even when she tried directing the energy to a small pebble, it just didn't work.
“You can't just do that,” Winifred said, now clambering through and using her light to form into little fishes, revealing the darkness. “You just can't.”
“What am I even doing, anyway?” Kiara briefly admired the kind of shield that seemed to stretch out from her fingers. Winifred braced her knuckles against it, and tapped. The shield rang with a clear, pure and high note. Like thin crystal.
“It's...” Winifred touched it again. “It's solid. You've somehow managed to manifest light that's solid to the touch. You've basically just skipped about ten levels like they don't mean anything. And I bet you still can't even manage a level three binding!”
Kiara shrugged, now examining the morass. The twisted, looming trees, the small lifeforms that skittered away in the dark. How did they even survive out here? How did anything?
Now that she no longer had a desire to escape, the lightweaving began to dissipate, before vanishing completely. Now Winifred's magic encircled them, causing the dark-cursed creatures to skitter back. They couldn't stay still. The ground slowly pulled at their feet, so they waded and sloshed their way, water seeping out of the wobbling ground they stepped on, until they found a secure spot to stay. Or as secure as they could manage.
“There,” Winifred whispered, pointing Kiara towards something lurking in the darkness. One of Winifred's fishes darted towards it, revealing a face with empty eye sockets and cracked, bone-like lips. The creature h
issed at the light, instantly scuttling back further.
“Light save us,” Kiara said, eyes wide, unable to comprehend what she had just seen. “What is that?”
Her eyes rested on the long, jagged claws upon the humanoid creature's limbs. Ones that may have been used to gouge deep marks in the carriage, to try and access the contents. Thankfully, the creature appeared distracted by the light. Not that Kiara even understood how it saw anything without any eyes in its horrid face.
“So,” Winifred said. “Mind doing the impossible again and conjuring up a weapon or two?”
More of those strange, deformed creatures appeared, snarling and snapping at Winifred's fish. When one managed to close thin, bony hands over one blue fish, the light puffed out, dissolving into blackness. As if it had somehow absorbed the fish.
“How about we run?” Kiara pointed at the sunken trail where the carriage had traveled, along with squelched hoofmarks. “Back the way they came. Since they were kind enough to provide for us a trail.”
“Well, I can't think of any more brilliant ideas, so may as well,” Winifred said, forming more of her little fishes, using them as bait for the strange creatures.
The issue with Winifred using the light to distract the creatures was, well—it drew more of them into the area. After all, they were now treading the grounds of places that had been untouched by light for decades. Maybe even centuries.
They continued trying to follow the tracks. Those men had used the horses to beat a fast retreat, and probably distracted the creatures away from them as well.
I could really use some protection, Kiara thought—and when her mind focused on this aspect, light oozed out of her body, forming a kind of floating shield that covered her right side. Oddly enough, it moved with her arm movements, even without her touching it. It also didn't seem to want to shift to any other form, like, say, an incredibly useful sword or bow and arrow or something. Also, the shield resembled a kind of uneven blob.
It was solid, however.
“I'd like to know what in dark's going on in your brain,” Winifred said. “Because this shouldn't happen.”
“Yes, you've said that already. Do you think these creatures will be distracted if you form something really big with your weaving?”
“I...” Winifred frowned. “I can't make big things that can move, really. It requires a lot of concentration to hold the weaving together—”
“Just try, will you?”
Perhaps some of Kiara's impatience and fear rubbed off on Winifred, for she sighed, trying to conjure up a large shape. This time she managed a cat, which dropped to the ground and sped off towards the creatures, leaping and twisting between them as if being chased out of the kitchens back in Fjorn.
“That works,” Kiara said, watching the creatures go berserk over the cat. Winifred managed to conjure about five more before she ran out of personal light, having stretched it thin with the fishes as well.
“I just... I don't have that much light.”
The cats didn't by any means make their journey any safer. Just increased their chances of survival. One noticeable thing about the whole Endless Dark territory was that there were actually trees and bushes. These things should have died out without any light or heat reaching them, but remnants of plants remained. Except they oozed a kind of oily, smoky substance that snatched at the little light on display. They fed on something other than light and heat, it seemed.
Both women let out a shriek of fright when an enormous shape bounded out of the black, fast enough to take them before they had time to even consider defending themselves.
Except the shape skidded to a halt in front of them. Yellow eyes glared out of a shaggy wolf head, and huge shoulders lifted up and down from exertion, along with the breaths of a broad chest. It remained still for a moment, before sniffing, eyes focusing on the creatures of the night hordes.
“Mordred,” Kiara said. And there was another werewolf, too, now catching up with them. One that Kiara didn't recognize, pure black compared to Mordred's light, creamy silver.
The two werewolves tore through the creatures in a ripping, snarling fury. Winifred withdrew her weavings until just their glow-necklaces and Kiara's shield illuminated the darkness. Winifred reached for Kiara's hand, and they waited until the werewolves had finished their work.
They appeared again in the gloom and morphed into their human shapes. Mordred, and a stranger.
Winifred instantly shut her eyes and let out a squeak.
“You won't have to marry me,” the second werewolf said, thin lips curling into a smirk. Light brown hair flopped over his forehead and ears. “Don't worry.”
Winifred let out another squeak. Despite the fact that they happened to be deep within dangerous territory, she apparently wanted to walk around now with her eyes closed. Kiara approached her and prised Winifred's eyes open. “Look. Now you see the werewolf.”
The servant flushed furiously, and Mordred turned on his friend. “Thanks again for this.”
“No problem,” the other werewolf said in a low, growling voice. “It's not the first time a foreigner's been taken away from us like this. Happened to my former bride, too.”
“Oh,” Kiara said. “How did you two get here so fast?”
“Had a few people in the city watching you,” Mordred said. “They came to report as soon as possible, though I was busy patrolling the western borders at the time. Mika here chose to come help. Didn't know how far out we'd be going. Now.” He and Mika began shifting again. “No lights. It attracts the night hordes like moths to flame. Hide your necklaces. And sit on us.”
Winifred gave a rather morose stare at Mika, who winked in a roguish manner, before blurring into his gigantic werewolf form—bigger than even Mordred's. Kiara shoved the necklace into the soft ground nearby, the light vanishing forever. She let her shield vanish as well. Mordred hugged her side, helping her to clamber on. Winifred did the same.
“You know,” Kiara said, now feeling herself lurch with Mordred's movements, “we were doing perfectly fine before you two came here. I bet we would have made it back, no problem.”
Mordred let out a bark that sounded a little like laughter, before he lunged forward, forcing Kiara to grip into his fur hard to avoid flying off.
Honestly, the sensation of not being able to see a dark-cursed thing, not the mount she rode nor the ground they rushed past—it sent fingers of terror down her spine.
They really could have done it, though. As long as Winifred kept her illusions going strong, no matter how many creatures they attracted.
The werewolves seemed to know exactly where to step in the darkness. Using senses too weak in humans, along with bodies far stronger and more agile.
It didn't take them long to return to civilization on the fast forms of the werewolves. They took a different path, avoiding the bustle of the city, loping fast through an intricate set of underground tunnels, which led towards the inner workings of the palace. They finally stopped at a set of doors guarded by a brown-furred werewolf, who promptly stood aside, admitting them in. Now they entered the palace, but a different floor to what Kiara was used to.
Corridors that appeared entirely dominated by the “gods” of Kanthus, which made Winifred hide more in Mika's shoulders. Both women needed to slide off, however, and Winifred squeezed her eyes shut again as the werewolves transformed.
“Just wait until I find and punish the miscreants who did this,” Mordred said with a deep snarl. “Thinking that they could get away with such an act. Stealing and trying to kill my wife.” He put emphasis on the last word, which gave Kiara a detached, odd feeling.
Grateful as she might be for the lift back to Kanthus, she still didn't know what to make of the fact she was, well. Married. Without ceremony. Without warning.
Kiara separated from Winifred, but not before the redhead found the time to hand over the book bought earlier. She clutched it in one hand and found herself steered to Mordred's quarters, where he gave her full
run of the bathroom, of his bed, attempting to settle her down after her exhausting ordeal.
He really wanted to play the part of husband, it seemed. She placed the book with the others on his ripple-covered bookshelf, though it appeared at odds with the tougher, manlier titles that existed.
“Now,” Mordred said, tossing a blanket over her, offering to make a hot drink, and generally acting like a caring person, “you're going to tell me everything that happened.”
She did.
With a little flair, perhaps, and a cracked voice—but she told him everything, from her market stall adventure that led to the abduction, to using Winifred's cats as a distraction.
Wishing, as well, she hadn't been stupid enough to wander off so far without protection.
When she finished, he rested a soft hand on her shoulder, and she shivered from the touch. Remembering the power of his form, of the darkness rushing by her.
“I'm sorry you had to go through that. Annoyed, as well, because you really shouldn't have gone to the main city without protection.”
“No one,” Kiara said, wringing her hands, “bothers to tell me anything. Winifred didn't think to mention it until too late. Or try to stop me when I ended up going too far off the streets. Or telling me how marriage actually works here. And until someone thinks to tell me, I'm probably going to keep blundering along until I destroy this alliance! I've been here three nights, Mordred. How much longer until I land myself in another situation where there's no way out?” The frustration and fear left her throat, betraying the wish to keep such things secret. Not many things stayed silent when they pushed against her, scraping to be let out.
Being herself just sometimes became too much. If only she didn't have such scattered thoughts. If she could just do things normally, like everyone expected her to. Instead of having some bizarre power that everyone claimed she shouldn't. Of having Winifred's eyes widen, her mouth at a loss for words, and the guarded expressions of the members of court. Of watching their faces cloud over when she tried to entertain them, but risked everything in the process.