Loathly | PUBLISHED

2 The Beast of Aulkin Keep

His mouth fell open. I couldn't hear the words through the roar of agony and rage spilling from my own mouth.

Him! He did this! That was his magic digging in and ripping at me - and it hurt!

The curse uncoiled then with a whip crack that wasn't just in my head – not its usual, purposeful movement.

I sucked in a breath choked with incense and copper through lungs that were suddenly freezing. I'd never felt angry magic before.

I had only a moment for conscious fear before it swept me up and I was gone.

There was a moment of true nothingness and when I could see out of eyes that weren't mine to control anymore, the word was a rushing blur; I was falling, up and over the rail, falling down through the hall, falling and jarring my bones on the stone flagged floor.

It hurt worse than the man's magic claws, only made me angrier.

'Mage!' I howled, the curse taking my voice to lash out.

It shocked me; when the magic moved through me, I spoke to the curse-script - but that was not to script.

My fear worsened, though nothing of how I felt could affect me curse-driven body. It took my legs next, propelling me across the floor to the man where he stood.

If shock had ever shown on his face, it did not now – he stared me down with a ferocious frown, the claw of his hand still hooked in the air.

'Meat,' I cried. That was closer to my script, but no – the sentiment was wrong. The aggravated magic was not demanding me to be fed – it was demanding that the man die.

And still, he stood, stoic in the face of the horrific beast advancing on him. He had a knife now – where had it come from? He had such easy confidence.

'Halt, Beast,' he said.

The magics mixed and tore at the air, burning at the back of my throat. One running step more and I crumpled.

A second impact with the stone-flagged floor, hurting just as bad as the first. I screamed - but all I had was a beast's roar, no words; even the furious magic of the curse was knocked senseless by the fall – it was me and my own decision that raised my head to meet the mage's smirk.

Of course, he was confident. He really was a mage - with enough power to knock the stranglehold of magic away from my body. He knew that I would crumple to the floor just as soon as he said that – what was there to fear? Only I was shocked to feel my knees collapse at his words.

The curse raged at the edge of my perception, but he held it back with a few weaving patterns of the knife and swats of his magic.

My body was mine again – and I found that his order didn't keep my bound. I gathered my legs beneath me, rising up from my sprawl.

Now, his expression changed – growing wary; he hadn't thought I would move.

Leave! No magic, no voice; my beastly snarl would have to be enough.

I would chase this mage from here with tooth and claw since the furious curse wasn't enough to dissuade him.

He took a hesitant step back. The curse battered to take control of me - but couldn't. The first time in nineteen years it coiled around me but did not own me.

Fear fed my anger and I took a threatening step forward.

He ran.

Fast – in a moment he was gone in the darkness creeping outside – but I was fast too, ten steps behind and leaping the fallen doors - catching up.

Silver gleamed in the corner of my eye, then it flashed – I had to leap, fall and roll to escape the downswing of the deadly blade.

That was not the mage's little dagger. I looked up to see myself surrounded by metal-clad, metal-wielding figures.

Knights!

The curse hadn't told me about anyone stepping onto my land and now six plate-armoured knights faced me at the threshold of my own home, blocking my pursuit of the mage.

I had no time to think of anything else before the six soldiers blazed into action and attacked – I was all instinct. Paws and teeth and claws, swiping here, snarling there.

I was nineteen years of killing men just like this, who'd all thought they would be the one to slay the Beast of Aulkin Keep but were now just so much bone and metal in their shallow graves.

There – a mistake. I lunged, knocking the knight over, following him down and tearing off his helm to reveal his vulnerable throat – quick, quick – before the others would react.

The helm came off – with no head beneath it.

I stared stupidly, dripping drool from an open-mouth ready to bite. How could he be headless?

In my motionless confusion, I should have been easily struck by the other knights that surround me but they were still, silent. Frozen in the middle of battle - as if they weren't just so much empty armour, posed but unanimated. And the taste of copper on the roof of my mouth.

More magic. Just an illusion, a dirty trick to distract me while my real enemy stood away.

A beastly howl rose from my throat. I leapt away from the empty suits, casting about for the mage.

There he was – safely distanced to watch me tear into the conjured assailants. His knife was in one fist, weaving patterns in the air while the other clutched something to his mouth that he whispered to.

I roared, charging him – too late, I knew it was too late.

He threw out his open palm with a bellow of his own; 'Halt!'

It hit harder than the first, with crunching pain in the middle of my chest. Once again, I was swept off my feet by the force of my interrupted stride, left looking up at the mage, lying prone on the floor.

But he was retreating, running away from the Keep and disappearing across the unkempt grounds like a shadow. I strained against the magic that still held me pinned, feeling his running footfalls like thunder through my curse's connection to the Keep as he left the grounds.

Gone. He was gone.

The curse that howled and raged at the edges of my perception returned with lightning rush, a convulsion and pain, the third taste of it this night. I screamed.

Black fatigue crashed over me. Too many shocks, too much fear. I thought it quite calmly and still flinched at the first weightless touch to my back. The servants. Just the servants – come to fetch me because I was laid where the mage had left me still.

I ought to move, make certain the mage was gone and not coming back. If only I didn't feel so strange and cold...

I drew in a deep fortifying breath, then was lost to the black before the next.