The Inner Circle: The Knowing

by Cael McIntosh

  *

  Ilgrin opened his eyes to the yellow light of dawn. He stretched his wings and rolled his neck. The pain in his shoulder was more tolerable than it’d been during days past. The air was crisp, the sky was blue and it looked to be a beautiful day.

  Emquin stood several strides away chewing determinedly on a mouthful of grass. She swallowed hard when she saw Ilgrin watching and pretended to be analysing the earth at her hooves.

  ‘Good morning, Emquin.’

  ‘Morning.’ The horse looked up at him, but her warm expression quickly departed in exchange for one of disbelief. ‘Run.’ The word shuddered free of her choked throat.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Run,’ Emquin repeated as she leapt toward Ilgrin, forcing him to dive out of the way in avoidance of being trampled. He stumbled but maintained his balance, turning in time to catch a glimpse of the monster he’d encountered in Sitnic. Emquin stood where Ilgrin had been a moment earlier and with a thud that must have knocked the air from her lungs she was whisked into the air.

  ‘Emquin!’ Ilgrin cried.

  She howled and bucked as the monster’s claws dug into her flank. She sailed through the air, kicking and flailing for solid ground where none could be found. A deafening shriek drowned out her cries. The monster tore off chunks of her flesh.

  Ilgrin beat his wings and leapt after the creature but fell to the ground in pain. His wounded shoulder tore open afresh. ‘Emquin!’ His throat burned as he screamed, hurrying along the road after the monster.

  The beast turned and swooped back toward Ilgrin, Emquin flopping about like a rag doll in its talons. She had lost the strength to cry out, but still struggled weakly.

  When its eyes locked on Ilgrin’s, his bravery gave out and he turned to run. The strangers were irrelevant. Surely they could pose no greater threat than the monster in pursuit. Ilgrin’s calves burned, his toes begging for mercy as they were twisted in unnatural ways. He ignored the discomfort and continued on.

  The rhythmic beating gushing wings pressed heavily on Ilgrin’s back. The creature was closing in, but he didn’t dare risk a glance over his shoulder. A deafening screech revealed the creature’s presence, but it was the long, low moan buried beneath it that made Ilgrin sick with regret.

  He was sent sprawling onto hands and knees as the monster passed within a handswidth. Ilgrin watched it reascend, Emquin still clutched in its talons. She gave a final kick before the monster snapped her spine and tore her in two. Pieces of Emquin fell to the earth: the front half, the back half, and the various organs that’d come loose on the way down.

  ‘Lord Maker,’ Ilgrin gasped as his face was sprayed in blood. He had to go. He had to run. Ilgrin ran from the body of his friend, from the beating wings and the evil golden eyes.

  Despite the pain, Ilgrin opened his wings and forced a beat here or there to give his legs a break for several strides. Time and again he hit the ground running, face contorting in response to the burning pain.

  Two women stood on the road ahead clothed in nothing more than nightdresses. Their expressions revealed an equal mixture of terror and, somewhat unexpectedly, familiarity.

  ‘Run!’ Ilgrin shouted.

  The monster raked forward its talons, but Ilgrin threw himself to the side so that it missed by milliwidths. He lifted his face out of the dirt in time to see an old man step onto the road. He stretched out his arms, making elaborate gestures while shouting foreign words.

  ‘Run, you fool!’ Ilgrin warned as he hurried past. The man didn’t listen, instead remaining in place as the monster descended.

  The women leapt into a large, red wagon parked by the road. With no other means of escape, Ilgrin followed after them.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  BEGIN AGAIN