Hidden Spirit

Chapter Twenty-Three: Shadows

A hand set over Feren's mouth. He'd said it. As if his chest knew death was imminent and felt urged to rid itself of the only real emotion it could contain.

His legs were tensed when he turned back. The clatter of clay and wooden beams scattered and fell across the floor. And the beast that stood there responsible for the damage knew exactly where to hit Feren.

He was slammed against the wall, his head bashed over the beams with a feral hand, protrusions as daggers cutting through his abdomen.

Before he hit the ground, he called Grey to cushion the fall.

Even the spirit dog yelped at the contact.

A flurry of black shadows and feather-like wisps rustled over him as he tried to crawl between the legs of the beast to get away.

He had to call it away from the window. To give her time to run.

"Get up, you idiot!" yelled Rosa from down the hall. She was already running the other way. "We need to find more space!

Once free of the tangle of legs and muscle, Feren jumped and bolted down the hall, knowing the beast would have to turn between the tight walls, and chase him down the steps. He couldn't care less where Rosa had gone.

Feren ran straight, with Grey at his side, shooting light ahead of him so he could weave through the darkness. Had Rosa eliminated all of the lighting, or had it been snuffed by this creature's presence? The screeches off the walls met his ears in connection with the wide chest and claws of the animal that wrecked through the space behind him.

He jerked right, then left, running straight for the banister overlooking the floor below. Rosa looked up at him now from where Amelia had once stood. Feren snarled down at her. "What have you done?" he spit. 

"What? I didn–"

The crashing of a heavy body into the wall drowned out the sound of her excuses. Feren looked behind him and then back down at the ground floor. The area was wider down there — the screeches came closer.

In a swift leap, he cleared the banister and fell two stories to the bottom floor.

The second he hit he had to stifle a scream. Pain shot up his entire length, furrowing into the bloody wound in his flank. Fire circled his side in pain. His legs might as well have been broken.

Rosa rushed to him – in a vicious swipe, Feren gripped her by the neck against the wall. His jaw hung open in a pant of pain and exhaustion. "Tell me what you've done."

"I didn't – I swear –" She winced as his fingers tightened over her throat. "It was Jed! I saw him summoning. He –"

"Do not lie to me!" he screamed. Her body shook beneath him. "How did you summon it?"

"It wasn't me! It was –"

His fist closed around her so tight she couldn't speak. She clawed for his hands.

Grey's cold muzzle pushed into his back, urgently reminding him of the creature preparing to burst through the rails two floors above him.

Feren whipped his head up to the balcony. How was he supposed to fight this thing? It seemed almost not of this world — its shapely seemed to vaguely resemble a large predator, but the black tendrils of smoke that rose around it like steam in the cold were unnatural . And the thing it wanted — the thing it was drawn to like a bloodthirsty wolf — seemed to be their magic.

Feren remembered comments Amelia had made in passing — about how they had sucked the energy from their very lands, how it had killed her friends by simply drinking their life forces, how entire forests had crusted over and turned grey from a pack of them. He didn't remember her saying anything about how to kill one. Feren released his grip on Rosa. It was too late now to send it back to whoever had conjured it. Killing her would be of no use. 

Just as he looked up, the creature could be heard crawling up the railing. Its deep red eyes peered down at him. From Feren's vantage point, it looked like a bear. A large, emaciated, hairless, sharp-fanged and clawed bear, fully encased in dark magic.

It clung to the banister as if measuring the fall. They didn't have much longer.

"Get out of here," Feren sneered to the girl. "Before I decide to use you as bait."

She looked at him with true fear in her eyes, then she looked to the beast, as if trying to decide which of the two was the bigger threat. Before Feren could change his mind, she bolted straight for the front door. 

Feren looked after her for only a second as he rolled his shoulders and took mental note of the weapons he had remaining on his body. He hurriedly fought to decide whether it was best to fight up close or in an open area. The only open place he could think of was the dining hall.

And he didn't remember that being too far away.

He had to pull his right leg up to stand with the left, knowing his shirt was dripping blood and his legs ached with scrapes he didn't remember acquiring. The gait was more of a limp than a run. He cried out in frustration.

Feren threw his hand behind him to send Grey in its direction. Hopefully that would buy him at least a little bit of time. He heard the creature snarl and swipe. Feren turned his head to see the black mass swipe and grab Grey with unnaturally quick speed. Grey struggled against its hold but the bear roped him in closer as if in a hug. Grey's form nearly disappeared as it was tucked into the creature's chest — and slowly, Feren felt his spirit's energy fade. Grey's shape weakened in its struggle. His color began to ebb. At the same time, the creature seemed to grow larger. Or at least, the dark wisps around it became longer, making the overall image of the beast swell.

Feren couldn't help but watch in horror. He didn't know what would happen if it succeeded in absorbing Grey entirely. Feren threw his arm to the side to recall his spirit before he could be fully enveloped in the darkness.

He cursed as he realized his pace had slowed to watch. At the same time, the bear's red eyes snapped back up to the voerr. Feren scrambled down another hall; his fingers touched his blades to make sure they were still there. He clenched his arm around himself to try to staunch the bleeding.

Feren threw open the doors to the dining hall and pushed his back against the wall once inside. His chest was burning with the extra effort it cost him to draw enough breath to keep his head from spinning. He knew what it meant.

Because he didn't remember smelling anything alarming, he guessed the poison that had been used on the human's blade was hetinal. Not exactly Firican. Not exactly fast. One could simply sleep and never wake again. But the course of the hetinal through his veins made the blood from his wounds grow thicker. He pushed his palm against it and felt sure, even as the shadow monster, the very same as those tearing through the bloody country of Constentine, poked its head through the open door, he would survive.

It was a bear, he told himself. He knew how to kill a bear.

He had no time to clear himself of the hetinal. He pushed his back further against the wall, turned up his head, and closed his eyes. With soft murmurs, his spirits folded around him... coming from the walls and the floors and the very breath of the air in the room. The energy encircled him; filled his chest. Burned like ice across his marks. And when he opened his eyes again, he saw nothing.

Only red.