In Shadows We Rise

Chapter 5

Xander

"This kingdom is too large," I whine when we finally dismount our horses. We just arrived at the edge of the little village I last saw the girl.

"You'll forever be the biggest pain in the ass, no matter how long we ride." I shove Atticus as he finishes tethering his horse to a tree branch. We start heading towards the woods and I can feel my friend growing more on edge with every step.

"Anything yet?" he asks in a hushed voice.

"I'm feeling the same strange cold I got from her the last time but it's faint." I concentrate on the tug in my stomach as it leads me in the direction of the feeling I'm focusing on.

We've walked in silence for hours when the feeling starts getting weaker.

"Hang on." I stop and concentrate stronger on the feeling.

"What?" A whispers.

"The feeling is getting weaker," I tell him.

"Wouldn't that mean we passed her?" Chills run down my spine as I imagine the two of us walking cluelessly as the girl watches us in silence. Her lifeless eyes trailing her next victims, her claws digging into the bark of the tree she's hiding behind and her pointed tongue wetting her lips in anticipation.

I wasn't close enough to the girl to have seen her but that is what my mind has conjured up in the past week. All I remember is her black hair. Not black like Atticus' but black like an eternal void of light. Instead of reflecting the sunbeams, it seemed to have swallowed them. completely.

I meet my friend's eyes and nod slowly. He's getting more uneasy when he sees my expression.

"Let's walk back slowly. We'll be more attentive this time." I nod again and let him lead.

Slowly but surely the tug reaches its peak and I stop again. It's still noticeably weaker than it should be since I'm supposed to be right next to her now. Atticus stops as well and we split up to cover more ground. We won't go far since she's not supposed to be either.

"Uh, Xander?" A calls softly. I walk over to him to see what he's looking at.

The first thing I notice is the black hair and I know it's her. The first thing I think is, "What the hell is wrong with her?" My friend shrugs and pokes the girl on the ground with his boot.

"Death lady?" he calls weakly. I hit him over the head and he scowls at me.

"Is it her?" he asks for clarification and I nod. Again, I don't see her face but I can feel it.

"What do we do now?" I ask. Even though she's unconscious my heart is in my throat. She feels wrong. Rotten. Contaminated.

"We take her home."

"You want to kidnap her?" I exclaim. Has he lost his mind?

"I'd call it saving her since she's knocked out in the woods. Alone. Might have been for a week. Any objections?"

"If she eats us in our sleep, I'm hunting you down in my next life."

"Did you see fangs or something?" he asks genuinely curious.

"No. It's more like a feeling. She feels like death, A, at all times. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes. We don't have to trust her, she just needs to trust us." He's trying to sound sure but I can feel the uncertainty. "Guess it's time to check for fangs? We'll reconsider if they're too big." He crouches down and reluctantly wipes her hair away from her face. My breath catches in my throat.

"No fangs," Atticus announces.

We fall into silence as we both look at her. She's completely different than what my mind made up. My mind could never. She's truly beautiful, so much so it's hard to look away. Even with her eyes closed something about her features is mesmerizing. Her skin is pale, a shocking contrast to her hair, her lips, though blue from the cold, look soft in their relaxed state and her long, dark lashes brush against the skin under her eyes.

I look at her hands, they're delicate. No claws. She doesn't look like someone that would turn living men into horrid figures without moving a muscle. Not like someone that would eat a little boy. She just looks like a girl around our age. A beautiful girl.

I shake my head. I can feel death all over her. What is wrong with me? I look at Atticus who seems to be even more surprised by her appearance. I clear my throat.

"She's a murderer," I remind him, and myself, softly.

"So are the rest of us."

"You didn't see the bodies."

"You didn't hear her story. We've all done things people would judge us for if they didn't know our reasons. Let's not be like them." I sigh. He's right.

"She's not supposed to exist." I can't even begin to understand how anyone could be gifted by a god who's not supposed to be real. How was she able to hide for so long?

"She doesn't look different than any of us. Her powers don't define her." He looks at me pointedly and I can feel he's getting impatient.

"We'll be careful," I push.

"We will," he promises. Then he picks her up and we start walking home.