Wicked Hunt

Chapter Sixteen, Part V

Rafe: Conclusions 

"We were out on a run to the Violet Inn." Five Fingers rubbed his stump. "Just a quickie."

"A run for what exactly?" Rafe asked. His eyes narrowed. "Are you running Jade Powder again?"

"That's beside the point."

"Rafe," Christopher whispered, "let him talk." The Commander tightened his fingers into a fist.

"Go on," he said through clenched teeth.

"We were on a run to the inn, like I said," Five Fingers bristled. "After conducting business inside, I went out to take a piss."

"Charming," Rafe remarked.

Five Fingers paused and took a deep breath. Rafe leaned closer, studying him intently. His jowly face grew paler, as if the further he got into the tale, the more his body remembered how uneasy it had felt that day.

"Anyhow," Five Fingers continued, "went out to take a leak. I had just gotten my pants down when I hear this whispering coming from the forest. It was a soft voice, not much louder than the whistling of the leaves in the wind."

"That's poetic," Rafe said flatly. He was beginning to get annoyed. What could be a five second run down of events was turning into a long majestic story via Five Fingers.

"What did the voice say?" Christopher asked quickly.

"It beckoned me into the woods." An involuntary shiver went through Phineas, and he shook his head. "I felt compelled to obey. I didn't want to, but I felt like I had to. So, after I'd pulled my drawers up, I proceeded into the Shadow Wood. The voice grew louder as I moved deeper into the trees. It got..." Five Fingers swallowed. "It got harsher."

Rafe pursed his lips and leaned closer to the man. "Harsher?"

"Aye." Five Fingers rubbed the back of his neck as if just talking of the voice was sending the shivers down his spine again. "Started to sound like metal scraping against metal, like once I'd gotten into the forest, the sweet voice vanished, only a facade. The trees revealed the voice's true intentions."

"What were they?" Christopher pressed.

Five Fingers looked away, wiped at his eyes with his good hand. "Chaos and destruction. Blood. Darkness... death..." Five Fingers rubbed at his throat. "Got this clawing feeling right here." He patted the spot he'd been rubbing, the flesh turning red. "Like something was trying to get inside of me."

"Shit," Christopher muttered. Rafe's brows furrowed. Despite Five Fingers' usual reputation for arrogant debauchery and thievery, the fearful look in the man's eyes was making the hair stand up on the back of the Commander's neck.

"Obviously this... entity didn't take control of you?" Instinctively, he placed his hand upon the hilt of his sword. "Did it?"

Five Fingers shook his head vigorously. "No, it didn't." He wiped some sweat from his forehead and shook his fingers out. "I fought the damn thing the entire time it was trying to get inside. Finally, it left me, and presented itself not five feet away from where I was. Left me gasping on the ground like some pathetic weakling." Rafe fought the impulse to make a snide comment. Five Fingers continued. "It was him... the Black Stag, all writhing shadows and red eyes. About shit myself when he locked his piercing gaze onto me before I tried to run."

"You saw the Stag manifest itself?" Acid swirled in Rafe's gut. He let out a wet cough, resisting the urge to gag.

"It was pure evil in the flesh, except it wasn't really made up of flesh. Like I said, it was all shifting shadows." Five Fingers dabbed at the sweat collecting on his upper lip. "Took a step closer to me, then said something like 'not you' or some other variation. Then, it says something about the wolf and how it's been growing weaker. It's ready to strike."