Cloud Piercer

Twenty Eight

Veymaw is deathly still. The bird calls, the howl of the wind, the murmur of the forest—it all comes to a halt, nature sensing something more sinister encroaching on the village.

I peer through the small square of glass in Casimir's front door, eyes trained on the deserted path. Nobody lingers in the streets. Nobody disturbs the stillness. Nobody walks beneath the crimson moon as it peaks over the trees, dyeing the cobblestones red.

Tension spirals in my chest, making my head pound. With each blink, memories paint my eyelids—blood, terror, death. After what they did to my father, I always thought I'd sense their presence—thick in the air like the stench of blood. But the first indication of their arrival comes from beneath my feet; the ground starts to hum. Outside, the trees shake. There's a howl—low and long and dangerously close.

My breath fogs against the glass window, the edges blurred. I look from the streets to the cabin down the road to the trees, forcing myself to think of anything other than my father, of what memories this anniversary conjures. Casimir must be well in the trees now, Killian close to the mountains—waiting just as I do for something to happen, for someone to follow.

Everything relies on me. And it's all beyond my control.

My fingers itch for a weapon, but all I find in the pocket of my dress is the scratched metal from Myers. I turn it over anxiously, palming the smoothed edges. Eyeing the cabinet across the room, I shun the thought of stashing a dagger under my dress. Any sign of a weapon, and I'll be seen as a threat.

I balance on my heels, rocking back and forth as the time ticks by and the stillness settles once again. Seconds pass like hours. The village holds a collective break.

That's when the first scream echoes through the streets.

My entire body tenses as it dies down. There are screams every year, it's a natural reaction when a monster rampages through your home as if you're not even standing there. And yet, the terror lingers. The terror that someone will resist, that someone will be taken, murdered. The terror that that someone will be Cadence.

Another scream echoes through the air, closer. I clench my fists at my sides and keep my eyes trained on the path outside. They haven't reached our street at the edge of the village, but if the shouts are any indication, it won't be long before they do. A flash of movement breezes across the street opening. I lurch away from the spot by the door, back to the wall, hand to my chest as if I can keep my heart from beating right out of me.

Blood marks the backs of my eyelids.

Screams terrorise my minds.

One, two, three...

The fear crawls in, urges me to yank the closet door open, hide behind the coats and peer through the gap. But there's a pounding voice in the back of my head that keeps me planted on my own two feet.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen...

The earth thumps, Casimir's cabin trembling with the power. I wish to evaporate into the wall as I dig my nails into the splintered wood.

Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty—

The newly secured bolts Casimir fastened to the door fly from their hinges across the room, smacking against the wall inches away from my face. I can't fight my instincts as I slam the bedroom door shut, pressing my eye to the gap in one of the hinges to see into the kitchen. One infiltrates the kitchen, body taking up an immeasurable amount space.

No matter how often we hear of them, see drawings, remember from previous Red Moons; their appearance still comes as a shock. Standing taller than me, hands morphed into razor-sharp claws, faces half torn between animal and human, thick hair, and torn shreds of clothing.