“You know, if you’re going to kill me, I’d rather you did it with your own hands,” I said, “Not have something else do your dirty work.”
Draven didn’t reply.
“That’s what this is, isn’t it? That’s what the Caretaker is? A thing? I heard Crag say he’d seen it eat a guy twice his size. What is it?”
“Hundreds of years old,” Draven said, “Maybe thousands. Nobody knows.”
“And no one’s killed it in as long?”
“No.”
“I call bullshit on that.”
“Please elaborate.”
“You have people in your Order. You joined. Crag joined. Aisling, too. They all get put through the ringer like this, or do you only reserve that for street trash like me?”
To that he angled his head around his shoulder. “Trash?”
“Don’t pretend Fate and I are little more than that. The way you talked to us, about us. You were going to end her life like she was an insect under your boot. Who does that?”
Draven stopped and turned around fully, his coat billowing with the suddenness of his movements. Here, in the dark, the faint moonlight glinted off his sharp features, off the tips of his hair, his shoulders. He was little more than a silhouette, and yet there was a kind of light to him. His eyes. They were as black as the deepest night, and in them I saw the light of my hair reflected at me. As I stared, I kept wondering if maybe there was a memory gnawing at the mantle of my consciousness, one triggered by the light in those eyes.
Then he shut his eyes, his expression hardened like he’d heard something he deeply disagreed with, and the light was gone.
“You will face the Caretaker, as is my decree. If you survive, you will join the Order. If you do not, you will die, and so will Fate.”
“What… what do I do?”
“Survive until sunrise, though it would be better for you if you didn’t.”
“You want me to survive against some thing without any weapons?”
“We are at war, Seline. All of us are. Soldiers are needed. If you do not have what it takes, I do not want you draining our resources by staying at the Black Fortress. Prove yourself worthy, or don’t.”
The night fell around him like a sheet. There was a great whumph followed by a gust of wind that shook the leaves of the trees around me, and then he was gone. Poof. Vanished, just like the others. I had no idea what kind of magic this was, but I had a feeling it was the same kind of magic that had let him arrive at this place before we did—some kind of teleportation.
Now I really was alone; there weren’t even any crickets to keep me company. The woods were dark, and silent, there was only me and the sound of my own rapidly beating heart. Oh, yeah, and my glowing hair, which ironically now served as a beacon to whatever the hell the Caretaker was. I decided it best to pull my hoody up and cover the most part of it, though I kept a couple of strands woven around my fingertips like a safety net.
Slowly, I moved, trying to figure out if I should pick my way back to the spot we’d walked away from or if I should move deeper into the woods. The cold was already biting at the tip of my nose, my lips, my fingers. I cupped my hands in front of my face and blew into them, rubbing them together to keep them warm.
I hadn’t yet made my decision when I heard a sound I hadn’t expected to hear. Was that a cat?
I spun around, scanning the darkness for the source but coming up empty. Light from the moon barely reached the ground here, which made the blowing leaves look like scuttling cockroaches and knotted roots look like snakes. I heard it again, a distinct meow, high pitched and not at all threatening, but coming from above somewhere.
The cat was sitting in a tree not far from where I was standing. I could only see its silhouette against what little moonlight made it through the trees, but it was enough to catch the shape of its head, its pointy ears, and the glint in its eyes. It tilted its head at me, then bounded down the tree, coming to a graceful halt a few feet away from me.
“Is this… it?” I asked, staring at the cat from where I was. I didn’t want to get too close to it, just in case, but it was just a cat—this couldn’t be it, the thing I had to survive against.
The cat licked its paw, then ran it over its head. It did this a couple of times, grooming itself as I watched it, dumbfounded. This was the only animal anywhere near me. I couldn’t hear any birds, rabbits, not even insects, although the last part I was happy about. Tentative, cautious, I extended my hand toward the cat, not because I cared whether it sniffed me or not, but because it almost looked a little like my neighbor’s cat, the one that often would sneak into my apartment and raid my trash can for scraps. I called it Garbage, though its real name was probably something stupid like Sprinkles, and we kinda had a bond. I wondered if it would miss me if I never came back home.
“Hey,” I said, slowly inching my fingertips toward it. “Are you lost?”
The cat stopped mid-lick of its paw and turned its reflective eyes on me, then figured I wasn’t important enough to give its attention to and went back to nibbling at its own paw. “For your information, I’m not lost. I’m also not the Caretaker.”
The voice set every one of my senses to high alert, and not because it sounded eerily like Humphrey Bogart; here’s looking at you, kid. I stood bolt upright, spiders crawling along the length of my spine, my chest tightening. “Who the fuck said that?” I asked, wildly spinning around on the spot, my hands up and ready to strike the asshole that’d gotten so close to me he’d basically spoken into my ear. “Show yourself!” I yelled, my voice shooting off into the woods in all directions.
“It’s funny,” came the voice again, this time spoken so close to my left ear I threw my shoulder out trying to elbow-strike the nothing behind me.
Wincing from the hot pain shooting through my arm, I grit my teeth and took a few steps away from the spot I’d been standing in. “Who’s there!” I yelled. “What’s so funny?”
The voice came again. “You others have the sophistication to hear me, but you frighten just as easily as humans do.” This time it sounded like person speaking was talking directly into my brain.
My heart thundered inside of my chest, which was already too tight. Then I saw the cat, happily chewing its paw, trimming its nails, I guessed.
“No fucking way,” I said, staring at it. “You’re the one talking?”
“Way fucking way. Also, duck.”
“Duck?”
A series of rapid snaps, like branches breaking under immense pressure, cascaded toward me. I ducked just as the tree I’d been standing in front of broke in half. I fell to the wet ground, my hoody slipped off the back of my head, and my hair illuminated the figure looming in the darkness not five feet from where I was.
It was huge, easily the size of a bus, but I couldn’t tell if it was a bug or an animal. I could see spindles, pointed appendages, and what looked like tough, insect-like carapace, but also fur, animal’s eyes, and teeth—oh my Gods, so many teeth.
“That’s the Caretaker,” the cat said only this time I could’ve sworn its lips were moving.
I scrambled back, moving away from the beast. “Holy shit,” I said, “Holy shit, holy shit. I’m gonna die, and the last voice I’m gonna hear belongs to a fucking cat.”
“Some people would be okay with that. Good luck!”
The cat bounded off into the darkness, and I almost called out to it, almost asked it not to leave me alone with this thing, but I didn’t. Instead I turned to face the beast, took a series of deep breaths, and got back up. “Listen,” I said, putting my hands up, trying to reason with it. Was I insane? “You don’t have to do this—” the creature roared and lunged as I started to speak, smashing through what few trees stood between me and it.
“Shit!” I turned tail and ran, rapidly slipping between trees, conscious that a single slip could spell my doom. I had no weapons, very little light to see, no protection to keep those razor-sharp claws from turning my skin into shredded beef
if they managed to find their mark… and I was supposed to survive until dawn? I wasn’t going to survive the next five seconds!
The creature was relentless in its pursuit, charging through the trees instead of trying to avoid them, roaring at the top of its capacity to produce sound as it went, reminding me that it was there, and that it was going to kill me. When I spotted a cluster of rocks, I went for it and dove behind them, then I made a sharp right turn hoping to lose the creature even for a second.
No such luck. This thing had my scent, or it could hear me, or maybe it could taste me through the air. It didn’t matter. The Caretaker made a hard right at the rocks and came bounding toward me like a dog eager to lick its master—only this thing was gonna eat me, not lick me. There was no way I was going to make it to dawn. The only way to deal with this thing was to kill it.
That’s right; kill it, somehow.
“To whatever Gods I used to pray to,” I said between panting breaths, “I know I don’t do it much anymore, you probably can’t even hear me from all the way over here, but please give me a break.”
Ahead of me I noticed the trees starting to thin out a little bit, and not too far from where I was, I saw an opportunity. Going for it would ensure the creature wouldn’t just catch me, it’d corner me, but my lungs were burning from the stress of running—it was going to catch me eventually. I pushed through the trees and moved into the lighter part of the forest, where I came across a cabin.
Using the force of my own momentum, I slammed my shoulder against the front door which caved under the pressure and snapped open, allowing me inside. Here, it was dark, but I had at least a defensible position. I shut the door as best I could, then raced further into the house, checking the kitchen for anything I could use until I found a butcher’s knife left across a cutting board.
The Caretaker slammed against the cabin’s front door, smashing it to splinters, but its massive, carapace frame couldn’t fit through the opening. Roaring, with the butcher’s knife in my hand, I threw myself at the Caretaker and hacked at one of its limbs. An arm, a pincer, a stinger, I didn’t know, but I chopped and chopped until eventually I struck something soft and fleshy that sprayed me across the face. The Caretaker shrieked, and I laughed at it.
“That’s right!” I yelled as it retreated through what was left of the front door, “How do you like that, bitch?” I assumed it was female. It just had that kind of vibe.
I watched the Caretaker slink away into the darkness, becoming one with the cabin’s immediate surroundings and leaving me standing at the door, covered in what smelled like hot sewage and holding a knife. I stepped back into the cabin, headed into the kitchen again, and opened the faucet. Water flowed, and I took a moment to wash my face and hands before the smell became too much to bear.
I could hear the creature still out there, circling the cabin, calculating its next move. This thing was a predator, a clever one, one that had been doing this for hundreds of years, maybe thousands—even Draven didn’t know. But, then again, hadn’t everyone who ever joined the Obsidian Order beaten this thing? There had to be a way even for me; an other with no magic or powers of any kind, to succeed here.
Fire.
The thought pushed its way to the forefront of my mind, and it was a good one, but how was I supposed to start a fire in time? Fireplace. I moved through the kitchen into the living room, and sure enough, there was a fireplace sitting inertly against the end wall. I rushed toward it, but couldn’t find any logs or kindling inside, never mind the fact that I had nothing to light it with.
I perked up at the sound of trees and branches snapping. But if I can’t make a fire, how do I use it to beat this thing?
“I need a fucking miracle, is what I need,” I said to the quiet room around me.
One of the windows nearest to me smashed inward, and the Caretakers’ pincers came through soon after. I managed to twirl away from one, but a second one caught my knife arm in a tight grip. I grabbed the knife with my other hand and started slicing down on the thing’s weird, insect-like appendage, but succeeded only in chipping pieces of its carapace off. An instant later, something slimy and hot lashed out and grabbed my other arm, wrapping itself around my wrist so tight I finally dropped the knife entirely.
I tried to use my feet to keep the Caretaker from pulling me toward it, but another disgusting, slimy, hot tendril shot out of the dark hole I assumed was its mouth and wrapped itself around one of my ankles. With three of my limbs now under its control, it was able to pick me up off the ground and pull me through the window toward it with ease, but I wasn’t done fighting it yet.
As soon as I got close enough to its face, I put my one remaining foot into it again, and again, and again, aiming for the eyes, the nose—if it had one—anywhere I thought could hurt it, though avoiding its mouth and all those teeth. The Caretaker squirmed and screeched and roared, but it didn’t relent, it never let me go. It pulled me into the woods again, where it started running deeper into the trees.
I kept kicking the thing, looking for a weak spot to exploit, but the Caretaker was mostly carapace, and what I was doing wasn’t having much effect. The creature’s pincer crushed harder against my wrist, and for the third time tonight, one of my body parts felt like it was going to come right off under the pressure. I shut my eyes and grit my teeth against the pain, reaching with my mind for something, anything outside of myself.
For eight years I’d known those who used magic were quickly picked up by the Order, and I counted myself among the lucky ones who’d forgotten just about everything there was to know about themselves—including their magic. No magic, no problems; that was my motto. Now I needed it, I needed to tap into whatever part of myself existed that was magic, and I needed it to shine. It was do or die. Do or be eaten.
Please, whatever Gods are out there, whatever favor I’ve won, come to me now or this will be my last broadcast!
The Caretaker kept running with me in its grip. I had a feeling it was taking me somewhere it had taken many others before me, somewhere perhaps dark, and quiet, and warm, where it could pick my flesh from my bones and then feast until sunrise, when it would sleep. I knew this because the creature wasn’t just aimlessly running through the woods—it had purpose, direction, intent.
But the beast suddenly stopped in its tracks and gave the air a hard sniff through its six nostrils. The fact that it had six nostrils didn’t register in my brain nearly as prominently as the fact that I could see its nostrils to begin with. They were brown, huge, and so hairy, it would’ve been laughable if this roach-bear thing, wasn’t so damn terrifying.
Then I saw the twinkle in its eyes, light catching upon them, and something strange happened. The Caretaker stiffened, its hold on my limbs slackened, and I fell to the ground with a thud. As I looked up at it, I realized I could see light falling on its tough exterior, on its bristly fur, on its many, many teeth. This thing was like something out of a nightmare, but at the same time, the way the light interacted with its carapace created a sheen of neon greens and pinks and purples that was mesmerizing to look at.
The moment it reared up and squealed, though, the spell was broken. The Caretaker, the nightmare I would never forget encountering, shot off into the woods like a bullet and left me where I lay, wondering what in the hell had happened to it. It had me, why hadn’t it eaten me? Then I realized; dawn had broken over the horizon.
I fought to get to my feet, padding myself down and checking my wrist for signs of serious injury. It’d bruise, but it wasn’t broken. Then I turned my eyes to the east, where sure enough, the sun was peeking through the trees. I didn’t have my phone on me, and I wasn’t the kind of person to wear a watch, but I couldn’t have been in these woods long enough for dawn to come around. As the light of dawn quickly receded into darkness again in a sort of reverse sunrise, I knew, something else had happened here, something magic, and I wasn’t sure I had anything to do with it.
CHAPTER FIVE
“What the h
ell did you do?” came Draven’s voice from ahead of me. He and Crag had come marching into the woods to find me, and neither of them looked happy, least of all Draven, whose face conveyed more than his tone and words did. He really didn’t like that I’d made it back.
In fact, what was it he’d said to me before I’d set off to face the Caretaker? It’ll be better for you if you don’t survive, or something like that.
“Don’t look at me,” I said, putting my hands up, “I just did what I was told—I survived until dawn.”
“Unless you haven’t noticed,” he said, scowling, “It’s still the middle of the night, which means you cheated somehow.”
“Look, I don’t care what you want to call it, but I passed your test which means you aren’t going to murder me and my friend. Right?”
I couldn’t believe how casually I’d said that, but a lot of things about tonight were unbelievable, so, add that to the list.
He gritted his teeth. “I am nothing if not a man of my word, so no, I will not kill you and your friend, but now you have to come with me.”
“Look, you got what you wanted, you made your point. Fate and I aren’t hurting anyone, just let us go home and we’ll go under the radar again.”
Draven shook his head. “The agreement was, you would come with us should you survive the Caretaker. I have half a mind to throw you back into the woods and summon the beast again, but I need to deal with the aftermath of… what you just did. Crag, take her inside and see to it that she is… accommodated.”
I scanned the clearing around me. “Inside where?” I asked. “Take me to wherever Fate is. I want to know she’s okay.”
“Your friend is fine,” Crag said, “Come with me, and—”
It was like the darkness itself had shifted toward Crag and attacked him, picking him up and throwing him to the ground like he was filled with feathers instead of piles and piles of muscle. Crag grunted as he hit the ground, and when the darkness returned to normal, Draven was looming above him, his foot pressed against Crag’s throat.
Wings of Light Page 4