I blinked, shaking my head. “What? No. I don’t even know first aid. No way I can patch you back up.”
“Not you,” he said, exasperated. “Your gift. Your magic. Use it on the wound.”
“I’m not going to electrocute you!” I said. “I’ll fry your brain or something.”
“Just be careful,” he said. “It’s the only thing that will stop it. The magic of a Realm Keeper is like a light to the darkness.”
I sighed. “Okay. Fine.” I reached out my hand toward the hole in his side.
“Wait!” he snapped. “Not with my armor on. You’ll roast me alive.” He struggled to raise his hands, trying to yank at the leather straps holding his breast plate in place.
“Here, I’ve got it,” I said. I unbuckled the straps on either side, hauling the breastplate off while Petunia removed his greaves and gauntlets. I silently thanked my lucky stars that he was wearing lighter travel armor, and not the full suit that he’d been in when I first met him. Once we took off the shoulder plates, it was all cloth underneath.
“Now put me on the table,” he said. “To break the connection to the ground.”
“Put you on the table?” I repeated. “You weigh as much as both of us together!”
“All right, fine,” he complained. He pushed himself up and, leaning on both of us for support, made his way to the table. He flopped down on top of it, and we grabbed his legs to swing them up off the floor.
“Mama?” came a small voice.
I looked over toward the back room. Martin was standing there, staring at all of us with wide, confused eyes. “What’s wrong with him, mama?” he asked, pointing to Barius.
“Go back in the room, Martin!” Petunia snapped. He flinched.
“He’s just got a little owie, okay?” I said reassuringly. “But he’s going to be fine.”
“You’re going to help him?” Martin asked.
I looked back at Barius nervously. “Apparently. But I need you to go back in your room, okay? I’m going to use magic, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Martin nodded and disappeared again.
Barius closed his eyes as another lance of pain shot through him. “Why couldn’t I have been paired with the Keeper of Water?”
“Hey!” I said. “You said this wouldn’t hurt you!”
“I said it wouldn’t kill me. It’s going to hurt. A lot. It’s different for all of you. Sir Calvin would simply have to blow on the wound.”
“Well, you should have listened when I asked to trade with Miles,” I said smugly.
“Quickly, my Lady!” said Petunia urgently. “It’s spreading!”
I followed her pointing finger and almost retched as I saw the red insides of Barius’ gut through his wound. The skin around it was black. As I watched through the tear in the thick cotton shirt that padded his armor, the blackness spread through the skin, like a video of rotting meat played in fast forward.
“Has it gone too far?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Barius said. I could only imagine how bad he must be hurting, because he could barely speak through how hard he was gritting his teeth. “You can stop it. Your magic could save me on the very brink of death. If even one finger were not yet touched by corruption, it would be enough.”
“Okay,” I said nervously. “Here goes nothing. You ready?”
“Just do it,” said Barius.
I reached my hand out.
“Wait!” he said, snatching my wrist. He looked at Petunia. “Do you have a spoon? Something wooden?”
She nodded and scurried to grab one from a drawer. Barius took it from her and put it in his mouth cross-wise, biting down hard on the wood.
“Arright,” he mumbled around it.
I placed my hand on the wound and reached inside for my magic. I only let out a little bit — just enough to cause a pleasant buzz to drone in my fingers. Still, Barius’ back arched, and he clutched the table so hard his knuckles went white. The wooden spoon snapped in two, falling to the stone floor.
“Oh, God!” I cried, pulling my hand away. Barius slumped back down and lay still.
Without even thinking about it, I shot my hand into his mouth and grabbed the sharp fragment of wood I found there, pulling it out. Then I realized my hand was covered in Barius’ saliva.
“Oh my God,” I said, disgusted. I dropped the wood and wiped my hand as hard as I could on Barius’ shirt.
Petunia leaned over and placed an ear against his mouth. “He still breathes,” she told me.
I sighed with relief, feeling my shoulders sag as tension seeped from them. I hadn’t realized how hard I’d been clutching the whip at my belt until I felt my fingers burn with pain, their muscles suddenly relaxed. I glanced back at the wound in Barius’ side. As I watched, the blackness receded until it was just a small circle around the wound. Then the circle bled away into a single, final drop of blackened blood that fell to the tabletop and disappeared.
“He’ll need some water when he wakes up,” Petunia said, making it sound almost like a question. I doubted she knew the medical protocol for saving someone from the corruption of Chaos.
“Sure,” I said, because it sounded fine. Then I turned to approach the front door again.
Petunia grabbed my sleeve. “My Lady, you cannot go out again!” She pleaded. “Not without your guard. Wait until daylight. It’s only a few hours away.”
I heard the skreee of the massive bird outside, followed by a group of all-too-human screams in the distance.
“I have to,” I said. “People are getting hurt.”
“The rider is too strong at night,” she said. “You won’t even see it until it’s too late.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“I don’t know. People are saying it’s a figure shrouded in shadow — man or woman, they can’t tell. But it rides in the sky on a great bird, but dark and terrible. Its mount’s claws are razors, and its beak stronger than a sword. And the rider’s arrows…well, you saw what they did to your friend.”
“What does he…what does it want?” I asked.
“No one knows, at least not for certain.” She shook her head. “It came once the wall receded. It comes and goes — sometimes here, sometimes not. Most are wise enough to stay indoors. Those who aren’t, or who don’t have a roof to hide beneath, are dying out. It’s worse on the north end of town.”
I started to ask, “What’s on the north end of town?” but my question was cut off by another cry from outside, followed by yet another scream. I heard a thud like a wet sack of meat slamming into the street.
I threw open the door and leapt out into the night, ignoring Petunia’s cries as I slammed the door shut behind me.
RAVEN
THE STREET SEEMED EMPTY. RIGHT in front of Petunia’s door was a broken body, lying limp and twisted in the night.
I scanned the sky, staying close to the wall in hopes of making myself a smaller target. I sidled down the street to the corner of the building, feeling like the statue of Ella was watching over me silently. It wasn’t exactly comforting. I was way out of my element here. But I couldn’t just stay inside and listen to people being killed all night. Not if there was even a chance that I could do something about it.
The sky grew dark. On instinct more than anything else, I flung myself to the ground. With a ssshunk, an arrow embedded itself up to the fletching in the wall above me.
“Tseeer!”
There was a whooshing, swooping sound above me. I scrambled to my feet and ran around the corner of the building, hearing a shudder in the air as a black shape passed through the space where I’d just been standing. The thundering flap of wings signaled its climb back into the sky.
I turned, trying to spot it in the darkness. I thought I saw a black shape and fired a lightning bolt at it. The shot went wide, but the glowing arc illuminated the black hawk and its rider — a flashing glimpse of dark feathers and silver armor. The sky turned pure black again as my eyes adjusted, and I los
t sight of them. I fired another bolt in the same direction, but this time nothing showed but more sky.
I stood there, scanning for another glimpse.
Don’t stand in the open, you idiot, I thought. Move!
I turned and fled down the street, not knowing where I was going. The slap of my leather boots was the only sound. It seemed everyone had finally developed the good sense to hide themselves.
I nearly tripped over another body in the street, this one a woman. Her sightless eyes stared up at the stars, her body a wet mess. I tried to sidestep it at the last second, avoiding the body but falling on my hands and knees beside it. My hands came down in something sticky. My stomach lurched as I dry heaved, nearly losing both the chicken I’d had in the Runehold and the rice I’d had at Petunia’s.
Another hiss gave me a half-second’s notice to roll out of the way. The arrow slammed uselessly into the woman’s corpse as the bird, soundless this time, scrabbled at the cobblestones where I’d just been laying. Laying on my side and still disoriented, I flung two bolts desperately. They slammed into the white stucco wall of the building lining the street, one of the bolts catching a tavern sign and sending it swinging back and forth with rusty old creaks. The bird flapped twice and was gone from view.
I couldn’t do this here, I suddenly realized. My magic might not be strong enough to punch holes in the buildings like Sarah or Blade, but if I hit one of these thatched roofs it could start a wildfire in the town. I needed to get away from the buildings; a town square or a space outside the border wall would be perfect.
I found my feet and ran, staying close to the walls. I’ve never been big on God, but I whispered a little prayer of thanks every time overhangs appeared on the buildings to protect my panicked retreat. I’d stop at the end of each one, scanning the sky before running into the open again at full speed. No arrows fell to dog my steps. Had the rider given up?
I burst into another stretch of open ground, this one a good fifty feet long.
“Tseeer!”
Rather than the swoop and the hiss I was expecting, I heard the crash and tinkling of ceramic tile. A chunk of a red tile roof slammed into the street, punching a gaping hole in the cobblestones.
Well, the rider hadn’t given up, that was for sure. Rather than risk himself — itself — by diving to attack me, he’d simply try to dive bomb me, crushing me to death.
I made it to the next overhang, pausing beneath it to catch my breath. I was still right in the middle of the town, and I honestly didn’t know which direction was the fastest way to reach the outskirts. But I had to figure it out quick, because I couldn’t fire at the rider when he flew so low between the buildings.
When he flew so low between the buildings.
I smiled suddenly, risking a quick glance from under the overhang and into the night sky.
The stars and moon still shone bright, but the rest of the sky was ink. I scanned back and forth, up and down, in the narrow swath I could see between the rows of roofs on either side.
“Come on,” I whispered.
There.
The moon’s soft blue glow was just enough to see a crossbeam of wood that seemed to float in the sky, tile and plaster still clinging to its length. The sky above it was pitch blackness, a darker shade than the night that surrounded it, a silhouette of wings that blocked the stars as it floated in the air.
I leapt into the open, raising my hands to fire twin spears of lightning. They crackled straight and true, one slamming into the crossbeam and sending it spinning through the air, while the other crackled against the black shape above it.
The hawk screamed in pain and rage. But this time another voice joined it, a voice that was less loud and yet somehow more terrible than the hawk’s. It had to be the figure in silver armor I’d seen on the hawk’s back.
I saw the two of them sink in the sky in the split second before the flash of lightning died. I blinked as my night vision struggled to adjust.
There. I saw a black shape, falling and leaving a swath of pitch against the stars. It was falling behind the buildings further down the street.
I broke into a run toward where I’d seen it going down. I dodged around corner after corner, all of them angling just slightly away from my destination. Any second I expected to hear the rush of wings and a ferocious cry as the hawk took wing again. At any moment, I was sure, the rider would resume the hunt.
I darted around another corner and skidded to a halt, barely stopping myself in time.
Before me was a massive hole in the cobblestone street. It disappeared into blackness below, the bottom invisible. It could have been ten feet deep or ten thousand — in the darkness of night, it was impossible to tell. The pit stretched out to the town wall on the other side and ran along it for a good sixty feet. I stood there on the edge for a second, trying to figure out what it was.
“Tseeer!”
Too late, I swiveled and held up my hands to guard myself, firing two desperate bolts. They flew wide of the hawk, which slammed into me and knocked me over the edge as the black, feathery shape came tumbling down after me.
Thankfully, the pit was closer to ten feet deep than ten thousand. I landed on my feet, my legs crumpling beneath me as I slammed into the ground hard enough to knock the wind from my lungs. But nothing was broken — or at least, I didn’t feel anything break.
I gasped and looked up through the rim of the pit above. I couldn’t move, I could only lay there and try desperately to suck air back into my body. The stars and moon seemed so far away.
My right hand slid across the stone beneath me, seemingly of its own accord. It found purchase, and I forced myself to sit up, leaning heavily to my right. There was a nasty pain in my side that I was positive would turn into the world’s worst bruise. I clutched it, breathing hard through my teeth.
The hawk. It was down here.
I turned to see it flapping its wings on the ground, trying to right itself. It screeched and screamed as it flopped on its back, trying to get leverage. Its wingspan was wider than the pit; the wings scrabbled uselessly against its edges every time the hawk stretched them.
Where was the rider?
It didn’t matter; only escape mattered. I looked around frantically, searching for a ladder. Something to lead me up and out of this pit where this creature of Chaos was trying to kill me. There was a circular staircase running along the pit’s edge across from where I lay. It spiraled up along the wall, leading to the rim directly above me.
I ran for it as panic fueled my pace. But just as I hit the other side, a lashing wing from the hawk swept me off my feet. My hands grasped at nothing as I tumbled back into the darkness. I landed hard on the hawk’s back, bouncing off to slam into the stone again. My head cracked against the floor, and white explosions blossomed in my eyes.
Slowly I rolled over, trying to stop the world from spinning in my vision. But before I could try to push myself up again, there was a screech and the hawk attacked. It leapt atop me, its chisel-like claws sinking into the stone on either side of my body. The hawk reared back to strike, then its head jerked forward. Its jet-black beak stopped at the last second, inches from tearing into me.
I blinked hard, trying to stave off unconsciousness. What was it doing? Why was it hesitating?
The hawk’s head shuddered like it was having a seizure, and slowly its neck arched to raise its head. It seemed to be fighting something, striving to overcome some resistance — but a resistance to killing me or to letting me live, I couldn’t tell.
That’s when I saw it. Amid the pitch-black plumage of its chest, a single shaft of moonlight fell through to illuminate a feather that stood out from all the rest. A white feather.
This wasn’t a creature of Chaos, I realized. At least not originally. It was a giant hawk that had been corrupted. The process was nearly complete. Black tendrils were sliding across the lone white feather, threatening to overwhelm it.
Your magic could save me on the very brink of death, B
arius had said. If even one finger were not yet touched by corruption, it would be enough.
My right arm was pinned beneath the hawk’s left talon, so I reached out with my left. I snatched the feather, careful not to yank it out, and put forth my power.
The hawk’s body jerked and spasmed like Barius’ had on the table. But despite its feet wrapped around my body, I felt nothing but a mild tingle, like one of those massage chairs you try out at the mall. The hawk screamed, deafening me. I flinched, losing my grip on the feather, and the hawk fell away. It tumbled to the ground, thrashing now in what looked more like death throes than an attempt to stand upright once more.
I fought my way to my feet, pressing myself back against the stone wall. The hawk was long past caring about me, but swinging talons and swiping wings could still hurt me if I wasn’t careful. Carefully I edged around the pit. The hawk fell to a few, final spasms just as I reached the bottom of the pit. I wasn’t sure if it was dead or just knocked out, but I was satisfied it was down for the count for now. To my surprise, I felt a twinge of guilt. I hoped it was alive. It hadn’t asked to be the unwilling mount of a monster.
Slowly, achingly, I climbed the stairs and finally lifted my foot to place it on the top landing, emerging into the open air. I sucked in a cool lungful, relief washing through my body.
An arrow appeared from nowhere, springing suddenly to existence in my thigh.
I stared at it, unable to comprehend. Blood began seeping from the wound, soaking into the dark blue of my robes, making them glisten in the dark night. Suddenly the leg gave way and I fell to my right knee, crying out from the pain.
I looked up to find the rider standing in the street before me. Its silver armor was burned across the chest plate, and its helmet was dented. From the helmet’s slit where I could not see its eyes, black smoke poured forth. In its right hand it clutched the black wooden bow with which it had been terrorizing Elladorn all night.
It nocked another arrow and began to raise the bow.
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