Knight Casefiles Book 1: Revelations

Revelations [Chapter 16]

Chapter 16

Death is an ugly, putrid thing – no matter which way you look at it. At some point, you’re gonna find some way to convince yourself that it’s a good thing, that it’s just the next step into something greater. But you can never really know for sure, can you? I’d killed a lot of things during my time as a Knight. All those creatures that go bump in the night. Beings that innocents don’t need to know exist. During those times, I’d at least known what I was killing or had Sigrun to explain to me.

Here, out in the cold, I had no clue and it was making my stomach churn.

I don’t know how long Margaret and I had been standing in front of the mound of snow. Long enough possibly to justify the numbness of my fingers or the pain in my hand as the Desert Eagle creaked under my grip.

"We should really go,” Margaret whispered, her tone that of one who’s repeated the same thing over and over to a passive statue.

Gritting my teeth, I murmured, “What was he?”

There was a moment’s hesitation, perhaps out of thought or perhaps out of surprise that I’d answered back. “I don’t know what to tell you, Chris,” Margaret said honestly. “It had the same feel as that kid from before but there’s no way to be sure right now.”

I grunted and looked over at her. Margaret’s face was ashen, her body trembling under the falling snow. At first, I associated it to the cold, but then I noticed her labored breath and weak grip as she locked her arms in front of her.

“You okay?”

Margaret shrugged. “I’m not good with offensive workings. I’m more into subtle things.”

My thoughts flashed to the silvery weave that had shot over me and tripped the wolf-thing. I’ve only rarely seen magic at work, but there was no doubt that the spell had come from a practitioner – not a very powerful one, but a practitioner nonetheless. I took another look at the mound before tearing my eyes from it, shoving the ugly thoughts down my subconscious and attempting to smile at Margaret.

“Thanks. You practically saved my life back there,” I said.

She returned the smile weakly. “No problem.” She fidgeted for a moment, rubbing at her elbows in a feeble attempt to warm herself. “Can we go now? I’m pretty tired.”

I suddenly realized how selfish I’ve been, dragging the little psychic into this mess. Nearly killing her and possibly making her a target for whatever was out there….Wait a second…

Eureka moments are rare for me, but they do happen, just like how it was happening now. I spun to face where the mound was again and tried to remember what direction we’d been going. I looked back and tracked the path of disturbed snow and strewn twigs that I’d thrown up during the scuffle.

“What’s wrong now?” Margaret asked, observing me as I tried to make sense of it all.

“That thing wasn’t planning to kill me,” I realized. “At least not quickly.”

“Um, I think we can go wallow about how you escaped a slow death by being eaten later, Chris,” she responded drily.

“It’s not that,” I said, shaking my head and looking at the direction where we would’ve gone if Margaret hadn’t stopped the wolf-thing in time. “He – it – was taking me somewhere.”

Margaret looked past me and we both stared forward. The clouds had blocked mid-afternoon sun, leaving us in twilight-like darkness. The little light that did manage to fight its way through made the skeletal trees cast awful shadows that were even more distinct in contrast to the pale snow, silhouettes of branches intertwining into crooked fingers. They seemed to beckon us to go forward, the trees bent in an arch that made the path look like a passageway.