The Curse of the Blessed

Chapter Twelve

I was shivering by the time the birds set us down. It was humid, and the cold clung to my skin, nearly tangible.

"Are you ready?" I asked Bran.

He nodded. I led us into the forest.

Mist curled between the trees, illuminated by random slices of moonlight that slipped through the canopy above. Leaves crunched beneath our feet. Somewhere, an owl called.

"How close are we?" Bran whispered.

"Almost there."

I closed my eyes for a moment, checking in with my birds. The ghosts were just ahead of us, heading the same direction we were.

A stick cracked beneath my foot.

My birds sent wordless warnings to me, filled with fear and energy. The ghosts had heard. They were coming. We had to run.

I turned and yelled, "Go!" at Bran.

Something moved in the mists, white and flowing. Cold hands closed around my wrists. I fought, but their grips were tight as iron, and they dragged me away from Bran, who had not started running in time. Now he turned to try.

Too late.

As the ghosts forced me away, I craned my neck backward to watch Bran's struggle. He panicked as they grabbed him, beginning to thrash madly. Despair filled my belly. I began to turn away. Wherever these ghosts were taking me, whatever they planned to do, I wanted to meet it face-first.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the ghosts that held Bran flicker out of existence. He fell to the ground. I did a double take.

For a moment he stayed there, slumped against the ground as though unconscious. A few ghosts released me and headed his way. I wondered what he'd done, how he'd found their vulnerable spot. If I could figure it out, maybe I could escape.

Slowly, he began to move. He pulled himself to his feet. The next wave of ghosts was upon him now, but he faced them without fear, and when their hands brushed his skin they dissolved into nothing, like dust blown away by a sudden breeze. He ran toward me. More ghosts released me and turned on him as he came, but they also disappeared. The ghosts that held me picked up their pace. They also began to float higher. I gave a squawk of fear as my feet left the ground, and I struggled to pull away.

"Fyra!" Bran yelled. He ran into my legs at full speed, grabbing on and holding tight. The ghosts were unfazed. But now, with contact between Bran and me, I could access my power.

I called my birds, and they swooped down upon Bran, pulling him higher, so he could reach the ghosts that held me in their tight grasp. The instant he touched them, they melted to nothing. My birds caught me as I began to fall. They lowered us down to the ground. Bran instantly sat down, breathing hard.

"We can't stop now," I told him. "The ghosts are getting away with Reed and Lark."

"Just a second," he said, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Okay," I said. "If, after that, you don't feel up to walking, my birds can carry you."

"Thanks." After a moment, he put his hands on his knees and eased himself to his feet. "I'm all right, though. I'm ready. Let's keep going."

"Stay close," I said as we continued onward. "I don't know what you did or how you did it, and this is probably not the time for a lengthy explanation, but if you can make them disappear by touching them, it'd be best for me to stay within reach."

One of my birds squawked a warning, and a group of ghosts came suddenly out of the mist, headed straight toward us. I stopped walking. Bran stepped in front of me.