The Crescent Hour ✓

Chapter 13. The Abyss

Thick flumes of fog twirled above the ground, lacking any livid ghosts. Clara couldn’t take her eyes off the scimitar. White hot flames hissed, slithering across the runes on the blade like a snake wound around its prey. Her eyes burned from the intensity of the light but she didn’t close them.

She had felt it. A rush of power racing across her veins, pooling around her palm and pouring into the scimitar. It had been terrifying but exhilarating. The fire had roared to life and with one slash, the blade had sliced through the air in a blast of force, flinging the spectres into different directions. They had fled in terror and spite, and she had watched their retreat in cruel satisfaction.

He was in so much pain. They could have killed him.

Her thoughts fanned the flames of fury. The scimitar burned brighter. Giving the hilt a strong squeeze, Clara stubbed out the fire and faced Tamer. He was on his knees, grasping his chest. She extended a hand to aid him but stopped, dropping it to her side. He had told her not to touch him.

“Let me help you,” she said.

“No.” He pushed himself to his feet, his breaths a ragged whisper. “My scimitar?”

Clara placed the sword on his palm. Pain creased his face and the fist on his shirt tightened. She could see the source of Tamer’s agony was his chest. What had the ghosts done to him? Was he bleeding? Had he suffered a heart stroke?

Stubborn fool.

She closed the distance between them and locked her arms around his. She helped him stand up. He took a step forward and exhaled a deep sigh. Clara urged him to keep walking, her anger and bravery replaced by fear and worry. The ghosts were gone but her heart didn’t waver its racing beats. He placed his hand above hers, stopping her.

“I’m all right,” he said, a flint of calmness transforming his pained expression.

 “You’re lying. They hurt your chest.” She twisted her hands to free herself from his grip but he held still. “Show me.”

Tamer slid his scimitar to its sheath with his other hand. “No. The ghosts are gone. I feel fine, Clara.”

She relaxed her hold and stood back.  Flustered, she turned away and began walking in long strides. She didn’t stop to wait for him. If he insisted he was fine then so be it. He caught up with her in seconds, his long legs giving him an unfair advantage.

“I’ll summon the firis once we‘re out of the plains,” he said. “We should make it to Alikaf Forest before nightfall.”

She huffed. “I know you can speak to animals. Perhaps not verbally but you can do it with your mind, can’t you?”

He agreed. “I use telepathy. It’s a type of mind to mind communication.”

Mind to mind! What if he had read her thoughts, especially ones that involved him? Slapping a hand over her gaping jaw, she tried her best to comfort her nerves.

His lips twisted as he noticed her reaction. “Telepathy only works with creatures of lesser intelligence. Sentient beings have mental barriers that are impenetrable.”

Relieved, Clara observed him. Tamer wasn’t cringing anymore and his gait wasn’t stiff. When the ghosts had attacked him, it had pained her to watch him suffer. She had felt powerless, unable to protect the man who had saved her life.

Something else had shaken her. His eyes had lit up to darkest gold but it wasn’t pain that she had seen in them. It was hate and rage. A dark silhouette, snarling and twisting, had flashed over his face as if his skin had become transparent. It had been a trick of the mind. A grotesque illusion she had conjured as a result of her fear.