Shadowbound

by Gage Lee

  Biz and I held our breath and kept our eyes on the steps.

  At first, we didn’t see or hear anything. Then we heard one coarse, high-pitched voice. Then another, and another.

  And another.

  The scrats had found us.

  Chapter Eleven

  THERE WAS NO WAY TO tell just how close the scrats were, but my luck had been running so bad I knew in my gut that our enemies were very, very close.

  “Time to go,” I whispered in Biz’s ear. “Get that fuzzball under control. I’ll grab the ore. Stick to me like glue.”

  “You got it, bro.” Biz’s ferocious confidence hadn’t been entirely shaken, but she’d fallen back into little sister mode. I’d always protected her before, and she was confident that I would this time, too.

  I really hoped her confidence in me was justified.

  The bag of ore was surprisingly heavy when I slung it over my shoulder. Biz and I had gathered five pieces, none of them much larger than my thumb, but the sack weighed at least ten pounds. It also emitted an obnoxious singsong hum and threw beams of gold-and-white light through the gaps in the sackcloth’s weave. That would make avoiding the scrats a lot more difficult. I briefly considered dumping the ore and coming back for it later.

  The monsters would steal it if I did that, though, and then we’d be right back at square one with nothing to show for our trip into the ruins. That wasn’t remotely acceptable.

  I headed up the stairs, glad they were solid stone and not creaky wood. I froze when my head rose out of the basement and strained my ears to hear anything over the ore’s strange song. When we got back to the Academy, I’d give Baylo an earful for not telling us about the ghostlight’s tattletale features. If I’d known about this, I would have at least asked for another sack, or maybe even a box, to muffle the noise and hide the light. Because the way things were going, I couldn’t hear any lurking scrats over the sound of my cargo.

  “Okay,” I whispered down to Biz. “I need you to take the lead. This bag makes too much noise. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “I can do it,” Biz said as much to reassure herself as me. “Which way are we going?”

  “Did you close the red door after you came in?” I asked.

  Biz shook her head, her eyes wide.

  “It’s fine,” I said in a low, reassuring voice. “That might be better, anyway. The scrats will probably come in the same way we did then, so we’ll go out the other door. Take a right outside the bedroom and head to the front of the house. Listen at the door. If you don’t hear anyone, open it up and slip out. You know which way the school is, right?”

  Biz pointed back the way we’d come.

  “One block that way.” She tensed up for a moment, circulated her breath, then rose from her crouch. Fear tinged the fire in her eyes, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. “I’m going.”

  I watched my sister creep away with a lump in my throat. Less than a day ago, she’d been half-drowned. I was sure she’d died. Now, she was more vibrant and powerful than I’d ever dreamed possible for her. This place was scary, but it was more than a miracle. It had given Biz real power and health for the first time in her life.

  I counted to five, and when I didn’t hear any shouts of alarm, I carefully made my way through the rubble-strewn bedroom. With the weight on my back, I wasn’t anywhere near as nimble as Biz. Every time my foot came down, something crunched and crackled under it. I spent as much time frozen in place, sure I’d attracted the scrats’ attention, as I did walking. Finally, I reached the bedroom’s door and peered out into the hall.

  Biz was crouched down inside the ruin’s door with her ear pressed against its wood. Slowly, carefully, she eased the door open to look through the gap. She froze as a bar of light fell across her face. My sister held her hand out, palm facing me in a clear signal for me to stay back. I waited, fists and teeth clenched, unsure what Biz had seen or heard. If there were scrats nearby, they might hear the sack and come to investigate.

  Biz closed her fist, then raised one finger, then a second, then a third. She eased back, pulled the door closed, and turned toward me. She put a finger to her lips, then drew a long, slow line across her throat.

  I got the message: three bad guys, just outside. Make a noise and die.

  My instinct was to join Biz to protect her from any scrats who might come looking for trouble. Unfortunately, if I did that the noise from the bag would attract the monsters and put Biz in even more danger. The singing ore would also make it impossible for my sister to hear anything approaching. That would defeat the whole purpose of having a scout.

  I hunkered down and waited, circulating my breath until my core was filled again. I wasn’t sure what I’d do with the ghostlight, but just having it inside me was comforting.

  The scrats’ voices grew louder until even I could hear them out in the street in front of the house. Their words were impossible to understand, but there was no mistaking the squabbling tone of their alien syllables. The bad guys seemed like they were as ready to fight each other as their enemies. I crossed my fingers and hoped Biz considered that before she made a move. If the scrats started fighting with each other, we could slip out the back.

  The sounds of squabbling scrats got louder as they approached from the north. I held my breath, sure they’d hear the ore and come in to investigate. Biz would bear the brunt of their initial attack, and I wasn’t sure I’d reach her in time to help. If the monsters were good fighters, they might be able to overcome Biz’s raw power with their skills.

  The idea of my sister fighting a bunch of monsters made me sick to my stomach. For a moment, I considered rushing forward and taking the fight to the scrats.

  Then their voices receded as they moved farther south. Biz held her position until the voices had dwindled to almost nothing, then slowly, carefully, pushed the door open. She motioned for me to follow and darted outside.

  I crossed my fingers and hoped the monsters were too far away to hear the ghostlight inside the sack slung over my shoulder. I peeked outside the cracked door, then hurried into the street to find Biz.

  The buildings across the way were in even worse shape than the one we’d just left. Only a few walls, separated by football fields of rubble, still stood. It looked like this part of the city had been hit hardest by whatever disaster had driven Ylor and the rest of the Tribunal to rip their home out of one world and throw it into the void. It was hard for me to fathom the kind of violence necessary to reduce whole blocks to cracked stone and rotting timbers. There were no signs of scorch marks or bomb craters, so it wasn’t explosives.

  It didn’t make any sense.

  I spotted Biz north of our previous hiding spot. Her back was pressed against the crumbling wall of the ruins, and she had a hand cupped around one ear to hear the bad guys more easily. She hadn’t noticed me, and I didn’t want to get close enough to ruin her hearing with the ore’s hum. I stopped a few doors down and waited for Biz to make her next move.

  After a few moments, my sister glanced over her shoulder and mouthed, “Clear.”

  She took off around the corner, crouched down low with her hands blazing like torches. I started counting to five and crossed my fingers she wouldn’t run into any trouble. All we had to do was get back to the Academy’s gate without being spotted by the scrats. We were so close it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes.

  The fuzzball screeched an alarm before I reached the count of three. The terrified sound jolted me into action. I instinctively pushed a blade of ghostlight into my legs and took off down the street at a dead run. Scrats added their voices to the fuzzball’s panicked cries, and a strange thumping noise filled the air.

  Biz had almost made it to the end of a street lined with precariously leaning ruins when the scrats had struck. Several of the creatures crouched on the tops of crumbling walls; others blocked our path back to the school. It was difficult to see the scrats’ features because they were covered head to toe in tattered black
cloaks, their faces lost in shadow. Those on the ground held short, hooked blades. Those perched above the alley brandished archaic firearms studded with gemstones that spat sparks in every direction. Every one of the weapons I saw was trained on my little sister.

  >>>Scrat, Fallen Humanoid Beastkin

  First-level core

  Neutral Strength, Enhanced Dexterity, Flawed Constitution, Neutral Intelligence, Neutral Wisdom, Inferior Charisma

  Pack Fighting discipline

  Threat level: Green<<<

  The auras around Biz’s fists burned like miniature suns ready to destroy anything that got too close to them. I gave her better than even odds against the stooped and cloaked figures in front of her even with their discipline. The scrats were weaker than Biz, and their low constitution meant my sister’s punches would drop them in a big hurry. Their inferior charisma likely meant they didn’t have any real leaders and would break quickly if the fight turned against them.

  What worried me, though, were the shooters on the walls. With their enhanced dexterity, Biz wouldn’t be able to reach them before they shot her full of holes with those weird guns. Biz needed my help, and she needed it now.

  “Hey!” I shouted and hoisted the bag of ghostlight ore overhead. “Look what I’ve got!”

  The scrats all shouted something in their high-pitched, nails-on-a-chalkboard voices. As I’d hoped, those hunkered atop the ruined walls turned away from Biz and came at me with their weapons raised.

  “Head for the school!” I yelled, then turned and ran from the mob of scrats charging across the top of the ruins.

  There was no time to stick around to see if Biz followed my instructions. I hated to leave her alone with the knife-wielding freaks, but she’d have a better chance with them than the shooters. I’d protected her as best I could, and now I had to save my own hide if I wanted to be around to bail her out the next time things got ugly.

  A gold-and-white bolt whizzed past my head and ricocheted off the pavement with a warbling whine. Chips of cobblestone battered the legs of my jeans, and squiggly sparks danced across my vision. The close call shook me out of my thoughts and sent me diving around a corner to get out of my pursuers’ line of sight. I stifled the urge to push more ghostlight into my legs and run away at full tilt, though, because I needed the scrats to keep up the chase and not go back after Biz.

  The thumping noise was getting closer, and the rush of nausea was a warning premonition that whatever made that sound was coming after me, not Biz. I waited until I heard the excited shouts of scrats, then took off down a skinny lane between rows of buildings that were much taller than the other ruins we’d seen so far.

  More shots crashed into the walls on all sides of me. The bolts kicked up clouds of dust and sprayed a flurry of shrapnel across my path. The scrats screamed at me, or one another, and poured more missiles down the alley.

  Blinded by the debris, I stumbled over my own feet and nearly fell. With a desperate lunge, I got my legs back under me and kept running. I had no idea where the end of the street was or if there was any cover I could duck behind to protect myself from the next volley of bolts. I zigzagged as much as the tight space would allow and prayed my luck would hold. Either someone really was listening to the Earth kid trapped in this strange place or the scrats were just terrible, terrible shots. I rushed out of the dust and flying stones to find myself at an intersection of two small roads. I sucked in a lungful of clean air and was just about to take off again when the thumping reached a deafening volume.

  A sudden wave of pressure blasted down into the street, kicking grit into my eyes and nearly bowling me over. I only had two blades of ghostlight left and resisted the urge to shove them into my legs and run for the hills. I wished I’d brought one of the harvesters with me. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but at least it was something.

  I blinked until my vision cleared.

  Just in time to see death land in the street ahead of me.

  At first, the enormous leathery wings made me think I was staring at an overgrown bat. But this creature had four legs instead of two and a pair of long, curving horns where a bat’s pointy ears should’ve been. The hair that covered its body was jet black and stiff as a wire bristle brush. A reeking blast of carrion breath exploded from between the creature’s dagger-like teeth and left me gagging. An upturned, spade-shaped nose the size of my chest twitched, nostrils dilated, as if savoring my scent. The beast’s hunger throbbed against my thoughts. It wanted to rip me in half and feast on my entrails.

  Far more terrifying than the beast, though, was its rider.

  The mount’s master was clad head to toe in black armor covered in hooked spikes. Its features were hidden under a helmet’s demonic faceplate. Enormous horns rose up from either side of the helmet to stab at the sky. Glowing red eyes paralyzed me with the weight of their glare. And, while the bat had wanted to consume my flesh, the rider would devour my very essence. Its unwholesome appetite made my knees shake and my stomach roil. I’d never experienced anything like it.

  >>>Kamarotz, Fell Beast

  Fourth-level core

  Good Strength, Good Dexterity, Good Constitution, Inferior Intelligence, Neutral Wisdom, Feeble Charisma

  Unknown types and numbers of techniques

  Natural echolocation and scent-based track

  Threat level: Eclipse<<<

  I focused my attention on the rider the instant the interface had filled me in on the kamarotz, straining to make out details.

  >>>Uncategorized Fell Lord. This interface is unable to identify any other information. The estimated threat level is onyx skull.<<<

  That couldn’t be good.

  “Drop the bag.” The rider’s voice oozed through my thoughts, leaving behind the taste of rancid grease and the odor of rotting meat. “Kneel before Fell Lord Inphyr.”

  The monster’s sinister voice squeezed the free will out of me like water from a dripping sponge. My left knee buckled, and my right knee almost followed.

  Almost.

  I couldn’t entirely fight the monstrous creature’s mental compulsion, but I could resist at least part of it. I obeyed the first command by throwing the bag of ghostlight ore behind me and pushed back against the order to kneel. I turned and ran back the way I’d come. A plan was starting to form in my thoughts. The rider was too deadly for the interface to tell me much about him, but his mount wasn’t nearly as scary. Its physical attributes were all good, but it wasn’t very bright. If I could play on its hunting instincts, maybe I’d get out of this alive.

  White-and-gold blasts rained down to light up the street. I ran back into the scrats’ crossfire, activating my Gaze of Discernment discipline at the same time. As projectiles shattered the cobblestones, I scanned the tall buildings that towered above me. Just as I reached the bag of ore I’d thrown earlier, I spotted what I needed.

  The scrats screeched angrily and fired another salvo from their bizarre weapons. Flashes of light ripped through the air and filled the road with geysers of smoke, dust, and shrapnel. For a moment, the flying debris hid me from the shooters on the rooftops. While that didn’t stop the monsters from firing blindly, it did give me a brief moment to make my move.

  Behind me, the kamarotz roared. It shook the ground as it charged down the street, and a horrible keening sound tore through my thoughts.

  The Fell Lord was not happy with me.

  That was exactly what I’d hoped. I wanted him so mad he couldn’t think straight.

  I snatched the bag of ghostlight ore from where it had landed and charged toward my discipline’s glowing red mark, which was still clearly visible through the choking smoke and dust the scrats had kicked up with their weapons. I leapt through an open window next to that mark and tumbled across a floor strewn with bits of broken crockery and the remains of tables and chairs.

  The scrats were oblivious to the fact that I’d slipped through their shooting gallery. Their shots had turned the street into a killing field, though the only
casualties so far were the cobblestones that paved it. The heavy thuds of the bat creature’s footfalls were a far greater concern. The powerful beast would have no problem smashing through the wall of the ruined building I’d hidden inside.

  A primal fear warned me that my only hope of survival was to escape the building as quickly as possible and run back to the Academy.

  I ignored it.

  A piercing wail ripped through my thoughts, and the scrats instantly stopped shooting. The bat creature’s footsteps were close now, and Fell Lord Inphyr didn’t want to get shot full of holes by his own troops.

  I held my ground. It wasn’t time to run.

  Not yet.

  The Fell Lord’s mount snuffled the air, snorting in great breaths in search of my scent. The kamarotz was so close I swore I felt the suction of wind tearing past me and up that nightmare’s twisted nose.

  Now it was time to run.

  I turned away from the wall and sprinted through the rubble as fast as my legs could carry me. I had seconds, maybe less, before the overgrown bat found my trail and blundered through the building like a tornado through a trailer park. I had to be outside when that happened, or I was a dead man.

  I crashed through a shuttered window and into the street. My momentum rolled me across the rough cobblestones, and every rock added another bruise to my body. I finally came to rest on my back, arms outstretched, the sack of ghostlight ore dangling from my fist.

  A glance showed me why the bag was dangling, and my stomach nearly emptied itself when I saw how close I’d come to death. My forearm was stretched out over the edge of the city. If I’d rolled once more, I’d have plummeted into the purple abyss without a trace. No one would ever have known what happened to me.

  I didn’t have long to worry about that, though, because the bat creature had smashed out the front wall, including my discipline’s mark.

  My engineer’s skill had showed me exactly what would happen next.