by Nichols, TJ
“Did I? If I hadn’t—”
“Then they would have died, and the leaders would have found another reason to spill blood.” Saka drew back a little. “I have spoken to another tribe, one that lives a good many days away. You were right. There are other demons.”
“So they are out there.”
Saka nodded. “But I do not know which country they work with. Why are there so many with you?”
“Because the underground was using us. They punished Terrance when I freed the demons. The only way for us to escape Vinland was via Demonside. None of us are going back. No one would open the void for us.”
The humans were stuck in Demonside until they reached another tribe of demons.
“Then you had best all learn how to stop the flow of magic so you do not rebalance what was taken across the void.”
“What have we done?” Norah scanned the horizon, and fear widened her eyes. “I thought there would be a tribe to live with.”
“We are a tribe. You have two mages,” Wek said as she came to stand near Saka.
Angus turned to face the trainees. “If Saka hadn’t left the tribe, the void would’ve opened and we’d have been rounded up and killed. If you returned to your tribes tomorrow, as per the usual arrangement, then you would’ve been killed.”
“And if we’d stayed in Vinland it was only a matter of time before the underground handed us over to the college,” Terrance finished. “Now we have a chance.”
“Says the nonmagic user,” said one of the humans.
Saka didn’t know that human, and clearly the human didn’t know Terrance.
“Terrance is a warlock, though he is currently without a demon.” Saka inclined his head in question, not sure if that was still true, and Terrance nodded. “He was as much at risk as all of you. All of us.”
How were they ever going to make it to the jungle and hills of another tribe?
He didn’t want to dwell on what would happen when he reached there.
They could still be killed.
The humans, with their more delicate skin, traveled better at night. So they slept during the day in the one small tent and walked all night. It rained one evening as they were packing up.
The clouds weren’t thick, and the rain didn’t last long, but there was no celebration. Angus’s lips pressed into a thin line as he folded and packed the sled and did the job of an apprentice without being asked.
No one really talked. They sang and made noise to keep the riverwyrms away, and Saka and Wek made sure that there was food and water. She was a good hunter, able to call prey to her. The humans were busy trying not to rebalance and die, which was a job that required a lot of attention. Not all were succeeding.
Saka brushed his hand over Angus’s shoulder. “Survive.”
Angus glanced up at him. “They kill humans. Humans kill demons.” He looked away. “I should’ve stayed and fought.”
“How? What could you have done?” Was he asking Angus or himself? He’d had the same thoughts. Maybe if he’d stayed with his tribe… but Miniti had made it clear there would be no exceptions, and without Angus, Saka wasn’t sure he could’ve kept fighting.
“I don’t know.” Angus tied the last rope. “We should go. We need to move faster.”
“They can’t go faster.” Not all the humans were used to the desert like Angus was. As much as Saka would’ve liked to move faster, they couldn’t. He didn’t want them to collapse from exhaustion.
“Their eyes are getting paler. We don’t have a choice.”
“I have noticed.” Terrance’s eyes had lightened, as had Norah’s and Dustin’s. The others were doing a better job of keeping their magic in. At one time, Saka would have been all about rebalancing. That had been the first thing he’d done with Angus. Now he taught humans how to avoid rebalancing, and he was sure other mages would judge him harshly for that.
Angus turned away. “I brought them here. If they die, it’s because of me.”
“They chose to come.”
When they stopped for a meal later that night, Saka reminded the trainees of how to protect themselves. Angus sat with Terrance and tried to help him. Saka could see the connection between them in those few simple touches. Jealousy prickled beneath his skin, even though Angus looked at Saka the same way.
During the day, when they slept, all in the one tent—out of the sun except for the two who kept watch, Angus slept between Saka and Terrance.
Saka didn’t dare touch Angus, even though he wanted to. But Terrance didn’t either. They saved their energy to walk and hunt. And tempers were fraying.
Rain fell again as they set up to sleep.
Saka sat outside and placed his hand over the scar he’d made for Guda and let it heal. He was glad she wasn’t there to see what was happening. He didn’t sleep in the tent that day. He barely slept at all. Tension gnawed at him. Was he walking them to their deaths?
He doubted himself as he never had before, but he didn’t dare voice it, even though he knew Angus carried a similar guilt. The humans had followed Angus, and he felt responsible.
After ten days some of the humans were weakening. They stumbled and argued among themselves, and their eyes became paler. Angus’s remained blue. His barrier to everything and everyone was solid. It was a tangible thing that few would broach.
He was protecting more than just the magic in his blood. He was protecting his heart—and he expected someone to die.
No matter how many times Saka tried to contact Iktan on the telestone, the other demon never replied. Saka was not sure of the welcome they’d receive. To have walked all that way and strained all bonds of friendship only to have wasted their last days seemed grossly unfair. But he wasn’t thinking rationally. He knew the world wasn’t fair and that balance must be worked at. All he and Wek could do was keep everyone fed and watered and motivated, though that was harder each evening.
But they were getting closer to the other mage. The magic beneath Saka’s feet had changed.
Angus came to sit outside the tent in the damp sand. The sky had started to darken. Soon they would eat and pack and walk. Again. “I don’t think Dustin is going to survive the night. His eyes are too pale, and he is too thirsty. We should rest.”
“We need to keep going. Rest will not save him.” Saka put a hand on Angus’s knee. “It is not him you worry about.”
Terrance’s eyes had turned the color of gold. The big man didn’t complain, and he took his turn pulling the sled. But he was losing the battle to hold on to the magic in his body. Saka had grown used to Terrance being near Angus. It didn’t bother him the way it had, and he’d come to like the way someone else could break the darkness around Angus. Terrance had a quiet strength that Saka could appreciate. And while they had barely spoken, Terrance seemed to hold no ill feelings toward him. If Terrance were to succumb, Angus would be broken. Magic couldn’t heal all wounds.
Angus went to speak, but his voice cracked. His shoulders hunched, and he bit his lip as his body shook. Saka put his arm around him, but he couldn’t lie and say that it would all be fine.
Nothing would be fine again.
Even Saka had started to feel as though they were going to die out here. The pack of scarlips that had been stalking them for the last two days clearly felt the same. Two mages and their trainees couldn’t outrun death.
Chapter Thirty
Ten steps. One hundred steps. One thousand steps. Reset. One step. Keep count. Anything to pass the time. The stars were fading on another night. They would stop soon, and in the daylight, Angus would be forced to look at Terrance’s pale golden eyes and know he was slowly killing his lover.
He was killing them all.
Angus stopped. He turned around in time to see Norah collapse. The shadows that had been following them all night solidified into a pack of five scarlips. He knew they were there—could feel them—but since Saka had said nothing, he said nothing. The trainees were scared enough already.
Better
to be scared than dead?
Wek raced to Norah’s side and brandished light in her palm, but it didn’t scare the scarlips away. They crouched low and moved as though to circle their prey. The little tribe of humans and demons couldn’t afford to lose anyone.
Angus drew up some magic and took a step toward Norah and Wek. He would not let them be mauled by an overgrown kitten with a scorpion tail.
“Scarlips,” Terrance whispered. “They’re so beautiful in the wild.”
Terrance was right. Their blue skin gleamed in the predawn pink. The white of their teeth was bright and their graceful movements drew the eye. Terrance’s demon had been a scarlips. He’d tamed Aqua, or at least reached an agreement where he’d give the animal some of his blood, and Aqua wouldn’t kill him.
“She’s dead,” Wek said. She didn’t need to raise her voice to be heard over the low rumble that set Angus’s teeth on edge. Was it a purr or a growl? Norah was Wek’s human trainee, and Wek knelt by her side. “We can’t leave her.”
“We have to.” Saka took a step forward.
Angus grabbed his arm. “We can’t leave her to be eaten.”
“It’s just her body. She is gone.” That was true, but it didn’t feel right. “We’ll leave her out like a mage. We can’t bury her. We have no time. They would kill more of us before we were halfway done. We need to keep moving.” Saka lowered his voice. “Do you want more to die?”
“I don’t want anyone to die.” They were here because of Angus. He released Saka, but Saka grabbed him and spun him around.
“They followed you. You did not force them.” His words were low and carefully controlled so as not to spread through the night.
“It wasn’t meant to be like this.”
“It would have been the same with the tribe. How long can a human last here? Now we are finding out.”
Angus pulled away and ran toward a scarlips. “Leave us alone.”
The animal took a step back and crouched.
“Duck,” yelled Terrance.
Angus crouched and gathered magic to him as a scarlips leaped over his head.
“Don’t use it, Angus.” Saka had his hand raised. The magic he held was red and ugly.
Angus sucked in the sticky night air. He was sure it had lost its usual dryness, but the sky was free of clouds that would bring welcome rain. He glanced around, but he was surrounded. The scarlips had separated him from the group. If he ran, they would hunt him. He fucking hated those things.
“I’ll draw them away.” Dustin stepped out from the knot of people.
“No.” Angus needed to do it. He’d keep them safe.
“We all know I’m next.” He pointed to his white eyes. The skin on his fingers had wrinkled as though he’d spent too long in a bath. He constantly drank water, but he was unable to eat. Norah had been the same. “I might as well do something useful with what little life I have left.”
“They’ll tear you apart.” Angus looked at Saka, but he said nothing. Did he agree with Dustin’s plan?
The scarlips that was stalking him lunged forward, and Angus threw up a shield that he hoped would stop the creature. The scarlips didn’t even get close. It was just testing him. Saka was right. He couldn’t keep using magic, even if he was careful to gather from around him. Eventually some of his own would slip through. The longer he was there, the harder it would be.
“This was better than dying forgotten in a college prison. I got to see more of Demonside.” Dustin licked his cracked lips.
“We’re almost there,” Angus said, his attention on the raised tail of the scarlips in front of him. The poison wouldn’t kill immediately, but it would hurt and immobilize him so he was ready for eating. He didn’t want to die the same way Jim had. No one should die. They were supposed to be on their way to freedom.
“Are we?” Dustin turned to Saka. “Are we?” he shouted, and his voice carried over the endless plains of sand.
“I don’t know how much farther it is, but we are closer.” Saka’s words were carefully chosen and spoken.
“Give me a knife and let me go before I fall over and die.” Dustin held out his hand. He’d climbed a building to shut off power and taken other risks on other missions. “They like blood, right?”
“Yes,” Terrance said.
Wek was still guarding Norah’s body, which pissed off the scarlips that were waiting for an easy meal. That’s all they were—meals for the waiting predators. A tiny tribe that was slowly dying as Demonside took everything from them. Wek pulled a knife from her arm sheath. “Norah was my trainee. I failed her.”
“You’re still needed.” Dustin shook his head. “I won’t last another day. We all know that. Now before Angus gets eaten, give me a knife.”
“Take my blade.” Wek held out the knife.
Angus flicked his gaze between the scarlips around him and Dustin and Saka.
Dustin shrugged off the supplies he’d been carrying. “Better to die free?”
“You don’t have to do this.” No one else needed to die. But Angus had seen Dustin stumble along. He had helped him up and helped Norah up. There was a shake in the young man’s hands, and shortness in his breath. But there had to be another way.
“Dead today, dead tomorrow. What’s the difference? This way I’m giving you guys a chance. If you don’t get there, I’m going to haunt you until you die.” Dustin rolled up his sleeves.
“You shouldn’t have too much haunting to do, then,” Lizzie said without a trace of humor.
A scarlips’s tail arced toward Angus. He threw up the shield again and the scarlips retreated and circled to his right, but it stayed between Angus and the group. Another two of the creatures kept Norah and Wek apart. They wouldn’t give up.
Suddenly the scarlips all lifted their heads, and every creature looked at Dustin. Dark liquid ran down his arms. Blood. And it was pumping out fast. He’d made a fatal cut.
“Thank you for the adventure… for the chance to be more.” He gave Angus a grim smile. Then he ran back the way they’d come. Two scarlips remained watching Norah’s body, but the other three loped off after Dustin.
Angus’s heart broke. Norah was dead, and Dustin was soon to follow. Angus had failed and failed badly. He should be the one giving his soul. A lump formed in his throat and swelled until he couldn’t breathe, and a sob tore free. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
He stood slowly and strained his ears as he waited for Dustin’s cries.
Aside from the low grating rumble from the remaining scarlips, there was nothing.
“They’ll wait until he falls. The blood loss will make him unconscious soon. The last of his magic is draining freely away, and when it does, his heart will stop. He will be dead before they taste him.” Saka picked up the things Dustin had been carrying and added them to the sled he was pulling. Taking on the burden without asking for help. “We must put some distance between us and the death. Don’t let his offering be wasted.”
Saka started to walk, but Angus stood where he was. He glanced at the scarlips that were waiting for Wek to move. Then he looked at the other humans, and his gaze landed on Terrance. Terrance looked away and then followed Saka. One by one the rest fell into line. Angus had to move. Wek was waiting for him so she could fall in at the end of the line. If they were too spread out, they would look like prey again.
He took a few steps, but his legs were stiff and unwilling. They were going leave Norah there, cold on the sand, with only the scarlips for company. Was Dustin still running or had his blood and magic run out?
How many more days did the rest of them have before, one by one, they collapsed in the sand, drained of magic and life. He wished he’d never mentioned the feathered demon. Knowing Miniti had ordered his death, all of the trainees deaths, didn’t make this any easier. The nights spent walking had been a reprieve, but death still stalked them. Angus wanted to be able to sleep without fear. He wanted to be safe and believe that he could have a life that wasn’t depende
nt on someone else’s goodwill.
The horizon and the people ahead of him blurred, and his eyes stung, but he didn’t fight the tears. He didn’t want to fight the flow of magic either. It was exhausting, but he did. He had to keep it together.
Terrance fell back to walk beside him. After a while he reached out and took Angus’s hand, but Angus couldn’t bear to look at him as the sun lightened the sky.
Angus hadn’t slept well. He hadn’t slept well in… in too many days. He’d lost track of time. How long had they been out there, relying on Saka for water and Wek for food? He slipped out of the tent and sat in its shade. His skin was sticky, and he was thirsty—but not in the way that meant magic was leaching from him too quickly—and his eyes were gritty. That was from crying. His heart was bruised.
Angus wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his head on them. He must have dozed off. When he lifted his head, his neck was sore, and Terrance was sitting next to him. Terrance reached out with his toes and flicked the bells on Angus’s ankle. How could he smile?
“I used to hate these because it was a reminder of what you were doing over here. You’d leave them on even at home.” He frowned. “In Vinland. But I like them now. I can hear you moving around. I liked the sound they made when we were together.”
“This had better not be some kind of goodbye talk.” Angus squinted out at the horizon. The sun would set soon. They’d have to eat and pack and get moving. He was so sick and tired of walking, and he wanted to bathe. His hair, which was overdue for a cut, had started to itch from the sand and sweat, and he was thinking of hacking it off with a knife. He wanted to shave, but there was no mirror and no real point. His clothes were sweaty… but everyone was in the same situation. They were all sandy and sweaty and dirty.
But Terrance managed to make scruffy look good. Angus felt like an unwashed, overgrown armpit. Yet there was still something about Terrance that made his heart beat that little bit faster. It wasn’t lust—he didn’t have the energy for that.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” Terrance nudged the bells again.