Moonlight Rising

by Linski, Megan

  “I’m not going to make a deal with you,” Claire repeated. The witch frowned, vanished in a blur of white, and reappeared an arm’s length in front of Claire. Claire dropped back into a defensive stance, unhooking the cord from her belt. “Stay back. I just want the woman. Please let her go.”

  “I only wish to speak to you, but don’t mistake my politeness for weakness,” the witch scoffed. “If you strike me, I will flay you alive and feed your skin to my hounds while you watch. Your little rope doesn’t make you powerful enough to touch me.”

  Claire jutted out her jaw, hoping the pounding in her chest didn’t emerge as a tremor in her voice. There was a palpable cold around the witch, and an uneasy sense of motion, like a current drawing her in. “I was strong enough to follow you here.”

  The witch’s eyebrows arched as her full red lips spread into a smile. “Were you, now?” She tilted her head, and without speaking, she extended her left arm. The hawk shook itself and flew to her, perching gently on her arm. With a screeching sound, the hawk flapped its wings. The glowing light dissolved to reveal a jet-black bird beneath. Its fiery eyes darkened to sparkling onyx. It screeched again as the witch ran a finger down the side of its face. “I sent you an invitation, child.”

  Claire couldn’t maintain her bluster as the familiar revealed itself. How…? She was truly an idiot. No question about it. How stupid did she have to be to think her pitiful prayer was going to bring help?

  Alyxaura looked Claire over, a searching gaze from head to toe. Her green eyes darkened, the irises spreading ink-black all the way across the white. With that dark gaze skating over her, she felt like something was crawling underneath her skin. Then Alyxaura leaned back and let out a peal of laughter. The dark retreated back into the summer grass green of her eyes. “You didn’t think I would allow you to surprise me in my home, did you? Dear heart. I almost feel bad now. You were so pleased with yourself until this very moment, weren’t you?” She sighed and shook her hand. The crow-like familiar dissipated into a cloud of gray smoke that smelled of incense. “Tell you what. I’ll offer you a trade in good faith. As a reward for your valiant efforts, let’s say. I let the woman go back to her pitiful existence. She’ll never be bothered again, and I’ll even give my sigil of protection over the child. Neither of them will ever be harmed by myself or my family.”

  “For what?”

  “For you,” Alyxaura said. She smiled, sending a deep chill into Claire’s bones. “Let me train you in real power.”

  “No,” Claire said.

  Alyxaura’s jaw dropped. “But Claire, the Lumina represent all that is good and righteous. There is no purer act of goodness than to sacrifice oneself for an innocent. Do you mean to say that you value your own hide over this poor, innocent woman’s?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  Alyxaura clucked her tongue. “And what will you tell the child? You have the golden opportunity to ensure his eternal safety, and you would choose yourself over him.”

  “Let me make you a deal,” Claire blurted.

  The witch raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

  “You let me talk to her and try to convince her to leave. She still has free will. If she wants to leave, then you have to let her go. And me,” she added. “And you have to let us out of here safely.”

  Alyxaura frowned. “What do I get in return?”

  “Nothing,” Claire said.

  “You’re not very good at making deals,” Alyxaura said. “If you win, I lose. If I win, I have exactly what I started with before I made the deal.”

  A voice, clear and masculine rang in her mind. Challenge her pride. Claire narrowed her eyes, glancing upward. Theolon was perched in the loft above the altar, his taloned feet dangling over a vine-wrapped railing. His red eyes flashed. You heard me, little spark. Poke her ego.

  “Are you afraid you’ll lose?” Claire said. “Surely a witch of your power doesn’t have anything to fear from me.” She looked Alyxaura over. “I mean, you’re not as strong as a Prime, but—”

  Alyxaura closed the distance between them, her thin fingers grasping either side of Claire’s face before she could react. The cold stabbed into her like sharp blades. Her breath was ragged, smelling faintly of flowers that didn’t quite conceal the scent of rot emanating from her. “Do not test my good humor. I warned you once. Twice is a mercy. There will be no third time.” One of her sharp nails pressed into Claire’s lower eyelid, just enough to send the message.

  “Hurting me would upset the Balance.” Her speech was muffled by Alyxaura’s squeezing grasp.

  “I did not seek you out to do harm. One could make an argument that you invaded my home, therefore upsetting the Balance yourself.”

  “By your invitation and trickery.”

  “Your free will brought you here, and your actions have consequences.”

  Easy, Theolon said. I said poke, not stab.

  Claire swallowed, trying to send a message back to him. Why are you helping me?

  This is the most fun I’ve had in months, he replied.

  Why should I trust you?

  You shouldn’t on general principle, but you lose nothing. Without my help, she will definitely outsmart you, my dear.

  What about her? Claire thought. Can she hear this?

  This is a private conversation, little spark. Get on with it.

  “If you don’t want my deal, fine. Just say so,” Claire said. “If your hold on her is already strong enough, it won’t matter what I say.”

  Alyxaura released her, and Claire held back the noise of relief welling at the back of her throat. The witch raised her eyebrows and threw up one hand in a dismissive gesture. “Fine. You have my interest. You may speak to her. Have you given all your terms?”

  Claire could see the deadly trap opening in front of her like a black hole in the floor. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that Alyxaura was going to make it this easy. “I get to speak to Shayla. If she decides to leave, you have to allow her to leave safely with me. We both walk out of here and you don’t touch us.”

  When?

  Claire frowned, her eyes casting up to the demon quizzically.

  She could trap you in a trance until you’re on the verge of death by dehydration. And yes, she’s done it. A distinct flash went through her mind of a man lying on the altar, eyes wide and unseeing with his skin pulled tight against his skull, cheeks sunken and hollow.

  “We walk out of here before the next sunrise,” Claire said.

  Well done.

  Alyxaura narrowed her eyes suspiciously, though she didn’t look up at her demon subordinate. “Fine. We have a deal.”

  Chapter Eight

  -three hours and twenty-two minutes until sunrise-

  The tendrils around Shayla shifted, squeezing and swaying to bring her closer to Claire. Her wide eyes were clouded in translucent white. Claire hesitated, then looked up at the woman. Tangled brown hair hung around her face in a messy curtain. “Shayla, can you hear me?”

  No response.

  Claire spoke louder. “Shayla! I’m a friend, and I want to help you.”

  There was no response. The woman’s breathing was shallow, her face pale. From a distance, Claire had thought the black tendrils grasping her were shadowy projections, or maybe more of the thin vines that proliferated throughout the church. But up close, it was clear they were something alive, or at the very least something with flesh. Each as thick as her thumb, the black tendrils glistened like swollen slugs. They tangled around Shayla’s body, holding her a foot off the ground. Several slid along her throat, but didn’t squeeze. One curled around her left ear, its tip buried deep inside.

  Claire shuddered, then put one hand out to touch Shayla’s cheek. Her skin was cool to the touch. “Shayla?”

  Something stirred. It wasn’t a physical movement, but Claire felt the same brush against the back of her mind that she’d felt when the wraiths were trying to toy with her outside, and again when Alyxaura’s shadows were lo
oking for hints about her past. This seemed simpler. It was hard to wrap her brain around, but she was certain it was Shayla. The touch felt smooth and flat, unlike the textured, prickly feel of the wraiths trying to grab on and probe her mind.

  Shayla, are you there? Claire thought, trying to speak the way she’d communicated with Theolon.

  The familiar male voice echoed in her mind again. You know you’re not psychic, right? You can talk to me, and only because I’ve opened a connection to you. She got the distinct sense of him rolling his eyes.

  Claire wrinkled her nose. With her hand trembling, she reached for the tendril emerging from Shayla’s ear. A painful shock sizzled against her palm as she grabbed it. She gritted her teeth and pulled it. It felt like a giant worm, wriggling in her hand, and she almost gagged at the writhing sensation. As she pulled on it, the mass of tendrils holding Shayla shifted, and she realized it was all connected. The tendril squirmed, then lashed around Claire’s wrist.

  Her revulsion was short-lived as a sense of calm washed over her. Her vision blurred, and she saw a face she hadn’t seen in nearly twelve years. Her mother, with her short black hair tucked behind her ears, running toward her with outstretched arms.

  Wouldn’t it be lovely?

  “Come play with me, Claire,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home. Just come with me. Take my hand and come home with me.”

  The sweet voice had an unsettling echo. Claire looked down, and even in her dreamy state, she could still see the thick black appendage wrapped around her wrist, slithering upward toward her shoulder. She grabbed the tendril with her other hand and ripped it away. The artificial sense of calm disintegrated. The tendril snapped away, embedding into the pulsating mass surrounding Shayla.

  Breathing hard, Claire put her hand on Shayla’s face again. “Can you hear me? We have to leave, Shayla.”

  The woman’s face turned slightly into Claire’s touch. Had she heard? “I’m almost there, Maria. We’ll all be together again soon,” Shayla murmured, her eyes still clouded over. “We’ll finally be together again.”

  “It’s a trick, Shayla. Whatever you see, it’s not real,” Claire said.

  As she spoke, a sharp pain lanced through her leg, emanating from the hound’s bite. She glanced over her shoulder to see Alyxaura watching calmly, a faint smile on her face. The pain intensified, and a flood of grotesque images flashed through her mind; her leg shattered with the bone protruding from the skin, the skin sloughing off in decaying green chunks, and still more horrifying images. A second later, pain exploded through her arm. Worse still, the cold, aching sensation wrapped around her chest and squeezed tight enough that she couldn’t get a full breath. Shadows pooled around her feet like a puddle of thick oil.

  Help, she thought, hoping the demon would hear it. What had it come to that she was pleading for help from a demon?

  Can’t help you anymore, came the response. Suck it up. Pain means you’re still alive. Worry when everything goes numb. Then you’re really screwed.

  Claire kicked at the shadows. They hissed quietly, scattering away from her. “Shayla, I met your son. He misses you, and he needs you. He’s alive and he needs you.”

  Shayla’s eyes fluttered, and the cloudy white dissipated from the right eye. “Will?”

  “Yes,” Claire said. “He’s—” The muscles in her leg cramped so hard it took her breath away. Shifting her weight to her other leg, she sucked in a sharp breath and said, “He’s safe. Whatever she told you or made you see, it’s not real. Will is real.”

  “But Maria,” Shayla said. As her voice trailed off, the cloudy cataracts reformed over her right eye. The sinewy tendrils slid up the back of her neck, twining into her hair to caress her temples.

  Claire seized her face, placing her hands on either clammy cheek. “Maria’s not here. Will is. Please come with me so he doesn’t have to grow up alone. Shayla, please.”

  Both of Shayla’s eyes cleared at the repetition of her name. She fixed her clear blue gaze on Claire. “Who are you?”

  “I’m one of the Lumina,” Claire said, barely realizing how it rolled off her tongue. “Your son is safe. But you’re about to allow a Tenebrae witch to consume you, and once you do—” Her voice trailed off into an involuntary cry of pain as the band of iron tightened around her chest, squeezing her heart with sharp fingers. She glared over her shoulder at Alyxaura.

  The witch shrugged, as if she could detect Claire’s thoughts. “I haven’t touched you, little spark. Our deal stands.”

  Claire tried to get a full breath. “She will kill you or possess you or whatever else she can do. Whatever it is, it means you’re lost forever. And your son grows up alone and wondering what happened to you.” He’d grow up in a home for abandoned and orphaned boys, with no one to read him his favorite stories, with no one to remember his birthday. Like she had. “Please, come with me.”

  Shayla glanced around, as if she’d realized for the first time she was suspended in mid-air by a tangling net of fleshy vines. Her face creased in horror and she let out a shriek. “Let me go!”

  “Let her go,” Claire ordered, turning again to Alyxaura. “She decided.”

  Alyxaura’s eyes narrowed. A second later, Shayla yelped. The squeaky sound ended in a choking noise. Claire whipped around to see the fleshy tendrils squeezing Shayla tight enough to crush her. Her face was turning red as she writhed in vain. They wrapped around her face now, one squirming and pressing against her lips like it was trying to go down her throat. Claire grabbed on, trying to pull, but the tendrils had an iron grip on Shayla.

  “You said—” Claire protested.

  “I haven’t touched either of you,” Alyxaura said with a shrug. “I am honoring your terms.”

  As Claire stared at the struggling woman, a chorus of growls surrounded her. This was why they told the Lumina to never make deals.

  Well, she hadn’t come this far to give up now. She drew one of her daggers with her left hand and removed the Apollo Cord with her right. She slashed at one of the tendrils with the dagger, but it squirmed away, repositioning itself around Shayla’s throat.

  The cord, idiot!

  She wasn’t sure if the insistent thought was her own, the demon’s, or something else entirely, but she would take whatever help she could get. Claire activated the cord, burning hot under her sweaty palm. She shook it out, then looped it over Shayla like a jump rope. As she pulled it tight against the woman’s body, the light brightened. The tendrils sizzled under its contact and broke away. Some wiggled around her, trying to find a new grip, but Claire clumsily ran another loop around her chest, cutting through more of the fleshy tangle to free the woman’s arms.

  The snarls grew louder, and something heavy slammed into Claire’s back. Snapping teeth caught her braid, yanking her head backward. She squealed in surprise and tried to pull away. Another set of jaws latched onto her foot, shaking it violently. Without looking, she kicked back at it. Claws raked down the back of her leg, and she could feel the hot warmth as the vicious claws opened parallel seams in her thigh. She cried out, then clamped down before the tears could spill over her cheeks.

  Still prone on the ground, Claire pulled hard on the cord. Shayla spun drunkenly in the air as the cord’s magic sliced through the tendrils. With her hands and arms free, Shayla pried the dark tendrils from her neck on her own. Claire sent her energy into the cord, straightening into a staff once more, and slammed it into the ground to create a sphere of light. The exertion sent a wave of nausea rolling through her.

  The hounds recoiled from the protective sphere. Claire seized Shayla’s arm. The woman was still coughing and shaking off the dark tendrils, but they didn’t have time to stop and catch their breath. It wouldn’t take much for Alyxaura or Theolon to break through the sphere of protection. Dragging her forward, Claire hurried back up the aisle.

  Dark shadows burst up in front of them, blocking the way. Claire spun around, still holding Shayla’s arm to keep her in the ce
nter of the light. Her own voice was ragged as she shouted at Alyxaura. “We had a deal. You have to let us leave. Ordering your fiends to block my way is breaking our oath. Let me leave now.”

  “Bitch,” Alyxaura seethed. But sure enough, the dark forms in the aisle dissipated, and the wooden doors of the church flew open.

  Growls and snarls surrounded them as they walked carefully up the aisle. Claire’s grasp on her protective sphere was wavering, but she didn’t dare release it until they were out of Alyxaura’s lair.

  Claire felt a palpable shift in the air as they left the church building and stepped back into the open air. It was still dark, but the oppressive weight of dark power was weaker here. Claire stood in front of Shayla and fixed her glare on Alyxaura.

  The witch stood in the open doorway. Small flames pooled in her hands, as if awaiting the opportunity to sling them toward Claire. She glowered, her eyes flashing with anger. “You are a fool. Amusing, but a fool. Most who provoke a Tenebrae witch do not live to tell the tale,” she said.

  “I didn’t provoke you,” Claire said. “We made a deal, and I won.”

  Alyxaura laughed, the harsh sound of breaking glass, of poorly-disguised anger. “You had more than luck on your side. No matter. Take care of yourself, little spark. Dark things wait for you in the night, and some darkness even the sun cannot break.”

  Chapter Nine

  -two hours and five minutes until sunrise-

  The doors slammed behind them as Claire and Shayla limped toward the open road. The hunger-hounds pacing the rubble-strewn courtyard growled as they passed, but none lunged for them. Whether that was Alyxaura’s command or their fear of the encroaching sun, Claire didn’t care so long as nothing else sank its teeth into her. Her body ached, an irregular rhythm of throbbing pains from the wounds she had sustained. Her left foot squelched in her boot from the blood running down her leg. She needed first aid and forty-eight hours of sleep, and not necessarily in that order.