The alien seemed unfazed. He whipped his tail around, striking with enough force to flip Shadow end-over-end, making him lose his grip on the knife.
Water filled Shadow’s nostrils and mouth as he flipped and tumbled. The sky above and the smooth rocks below reversed their positions at least twice before he recovered.
Alice needs me. Can’t waste time.
Before Alice, Shadow would’ve thought this an exciting game with two Wonderlanders he’d never encountered, made particularly thrilling due to the unique and unexpected challenge he’d been presented. Now, it was simply another threat to her safety—possibly more serious than even the threat posed by the Red King himself.
Stop thinking and act!
He wrenched himself through reality. The phasing felt slow, heavy, as though he were weighed down by his water-logged clothing and fur, but it worked. He stumbled as his feet came down on the stones that ran along the stream’s bank, but he remained upright.
As grateful as he was to have solid ground beneath his feet—and for up and down having been restored to their proper positions—Shadow wasted no time in racing along the stream in the direction Alice had been carried.
His injuries were nearly forgotten, just like every nonlethal wound he’d suffered, regardless of its severity. The boruk who’d stabbed Shadow was a blurred form speeding through the water; despite the damage Shadow had inflicted upon him, there was no trace of blood in the water. It was almost as though the boruk hadn’t been wounded at all.
Shadow glanced downstream to see the other boruk emerge from the water with Alice still caged in his arms. The instant her head broke the surface—the only part of her body to do so—she sputtered, coughed, and sucked in a deep, ragged breath. Her golden hair hung in wet, clumped strands that concealed most of her face.
Fear clawed at the edges of Shadow’s mind; how long had she been under? How close had it been to too long?
The knife-wielding alien surfaced beside his companion, and the two stared at Shadow with calculating, identical yellow eyes.
Shadow halted once he was perpendicular to their position along the bank.
Something shimmered in the water—the silver thread he’d glimpsed before, thicker and more substantial now. It seemed to be connected to both boruks.
“As dangerous as the king said,” the knife wielder said.
“Not as dangerous as the stories,” the other replied.
“But he is a ghost.”
“As much as you are a ghost.”
The boruks’ jagged-toothed grins spread as the knife wielder said, “Your tether is long, Grinning Ghost, but I will follow it.”
“I will find you,” the one holding Alice added.
Alice’s hair wavered as she panted. She flicked her chin up and aside to flip some of the strands away, uncovering one piercing blue eye. It was bright with panic and worry, but there was something more in it, something Shadow couldn’t fully identify—as though it brimmed with a thousand words left unsaid.
As though were overflowing with caring she longed to express.
Shadow’s aching heart swelled until it seemed likely to burst from his ribcage. He’d promised her she was safe with him. This was his failure, staring him in the face.
This was no game. There was no fun to be had here. Shadow had to assume death had become a permanent state now, that there’d be no coming back. Not for Alice.
That made her the most precious, invaluable thing in all Wonderland—the one thing for which he’d gladly give everything up. The only thing he needed to be real.
The only thing he knew to be real.
She’s been that to me all along.
Shadow clenched his fists at his sides, digging his claws into his palms.
Save her, protect her.
“Who are you?” Shadow asked through gritted teeth.
“I am Sithix,” both boruks replied in unison. They glanced at one another and said, “I am Sithix.”
“You seem confused, Sithixes.” Shadow raised a hand, holding up his pointer finger. “You get one chance. Release her and walk away.”
“Voices whisper and claim the ghost enjoys games.” Knife-Sithix inched closer to Alice and his companion. “Play.”
“What color is her blood?” other-Sithix asked.
Knife-Sithix settled his blade on Alice’s cheek. “Does her flesh taste foul or sweet?”
Alice squeezed her lips together in a tight line; the already pale flesh around them somehow paled further. Her nostrils flared as the blade pressed into her skin, producing a crimson line on her cheek. Blood trickled from the small wound. A high-pitched whimper escaped her.
Shadow’s lips peeled back, baring his teeth, and his fingers curled to ready his claws.
“King won’t mind if I take a small taste,” knife-Sithix said, staring at the blood.
Other-Sithix leaned close to Alice’s ear and ran his long, thin tongue along its outer edge. “I want more than a taste.” He dipped his face lower and dragged the point of a tooth just below her jaw. She flinched with a cry. Blood dripped from the cut opened by his tooth, falling into the water to vanish in the current.
Their brief exchange saw Shadow frozen in place; even had he been able to think, his legs wouldn’t have moved. For those few seconds, he was an immovable mountain with roots that ran unfathomably deep—but even though his body was still, there was no peace within him.
Alice, my Alice, mine, sweet, sweet Alice…
Heat roiled in his gut like a churning mass of molten stone and fire, and as it built, so did the pressure accompanying it. The heat flowed through his veins and made his scalp, fingertips, and toes tingle; it flared in his eyes, tinting everything crimson, and when it coalesced in his chest, it met the jumble of powerful emotions he felt toward Alice.
That combination of fire and emotion triggered an explosion.
Rage like Shadow had never experienced, like should never have been possible, enveloped his mind and body, and it wouldn’t allow a single moment of inaction.
Shadow charged. He leapt over the stream, perceiving the Sithixes only as threats, only as vessels for blood that needed to be spilled.
Their already wide, reptilian eyes somehow rounded further, but their grins did not falter. They were confident, especially in the water.
Confidence didn’t frighten Shadow.
Knife-Sithix raised his blades, which gleamed with droplets of water—and one of them with a hint of Alice’s blood. Those droplets fell away and were swallowed by the stream like tears lost to the flow of time.
Halfway through the arc of his leap, Shadow phased, driven by instincts that had been honed by the intensity of his fury and hatred. He rematerialized in the place his jump would have taken him naturally—in front of knife-Sithix’s position—but his foe was already in the process of turning around, having likely anticipated another attack from behind.
Shadow came down with a huge splash and grabbed the knife handle still jutting from knife-Sithix’s back. The alien reversed his turn but wasn’t fast enough—Shadow pulled up hard on the knife, tearing through thick scales and powerful muscle. The blade only stopped when it hit bone.
With a sharp, hissing roar, knife-Sithix whipped around, swinging one of his knives at Shadow.
Shadow ducked under the swing and slashed his claws across knife-Sithix’s exposed ribs. None of the boruk’s wounds bled, despite their severity, but knife-Sithix seemed to feel them, at the very least.
Other-Sithix, maintaining his hold on Alice, was backing away. He remained the true threat.
Shadow phased to knife-Sithix’s opposite side, caught the jutting knife handle again, and twisted it. Howling, the boruk took another swing.
Shadow swayed away from knife-Sithix’s attack, slammed a foot against the boruk’s hip, and straightened his leg. He held tight to the knife grip as knife-Sithix stumbled away, wrenching the weapon free of the boruk’s body. Shadow phased again before his foe could recover, appearing be
hind other-Sithix.
When other-Sithix spun to face Shadow, creating a small wave on the water’s surface, Shadow plunged into the stream fully and phased again. He rematerialized near the bed of the stream, lying on his back, with other-Sithix’s legs directly in front of him. He thrust the knife into the back of his enemy’s knee and dragged the blade down. It tore open a long, wide gash along the boruk’s calf.
Dark blood clouded the water.
Shadow grinned. A metallic tang flowed into his mouth; that hint of flavor was oddly satisfying.
The ambient sounds of running water were overpowered by a rush of movement. Shadow twisted to see knife-Sithix speeding toward him along the stream bed, tail lashing side-to-side to propel him forward. The charging boruk struck with jolting impact, throwing his arms around Shadow’s torso as they collided. Knife-Sithix’s momentum carried him and Shadow away from Alice and real-Sithix.
Shadow slammed his hands down on knife-Sithix’s back, sank his claws deep, and kicked off the stream bed. He glanced toward Alice as he broke the surface; her captor, bleeding profusely, had released his hold on her, and she used that freedom to push to the surface and snatch a knife from his belt even as she was drawing in a ragged breath. Before real-Sithix—who was struggling to staunch the flow of blood from his leg—could react, Alice plunged the blade into his left eye. The first inch of the blade pierced the large yellow orb before the metal was stopped by scale and bone.
Real-Sithix roared as Alice frantically swam toward the shore.
Maintaining his hold on knife-Sithix, Shadow forced another phase.
Suddenly, he and knife-Sithix were high in the air, level with the uppermost branches of the trees around the stream. Shadow was weightless for a moment; hundreds of water droplets hung in the air around him, sparkling in the sunlight like a cache of diamonds tossed into a summer sky. Even through the haze of his rage, the sight was beautiful—but its beauty was nothing compared to Alice’s.
Gravity reasserted itself.
Shadow’s stomach lurched, and his insides seemed about to force their way up and out of his skull. Knife-Sithix’s weight tugged on his claws, but the boruk’s arms had released their hold on Shadow’s middle to instead flail wildly—as though they would somehow sprout feathers and keep their owner aloft.
Shadow tore his claws free, ripping off chunks of meat and clumps of scale, and glanced down. Alice was on her hands and knees at the shoreline, head down and shoulders heaving. Real-Sithix was nearby, having hauled himself partially out of the water—which was murky with blood around his legs. He reached up to tug the knife from his eye. Blood spurted from the wound. The ground was at least a hundred feet below Shadow, though that distance was fast shrinking.
He knew what Sithix was now—even if he didn’t understand how it worked, even if he didn’t have a name for it—because it was very close to what Shadow was.
Ghost wasn’t quite the right word for Sithix, however.
Regardless, Shadow’s work wasn’t done. Alice wasn’t safe.
Shadow drove his foot into knife-Sithix’s gut. The blow shoved their free-falling bodies away from each other—and away from what might’ve been relatively safe landings in the stream. Knife-Sithix tumbled, head over feet, toward the vegetation crowding the edge of the forest below.
Shadow didn’t have time to wait until he hit the ground; Alice was only a few feet away from her former captor, and real-Sithix was wounded but not incapacitated.
The world blurred for an instant as Shadow phased. Hard stone materialized beneath his boots, and his insides settled into their normal positions. He raised his head to find himself crouched on the bank of the stream between Alice and real-Sithix.
Alice’s fingers were clutching one of the stones beside the stream, and her wet, tangled hair hung around her face in thin strands. Her breathing was quick and ragged, but she was breathing—that was what mattered.
Shadow turned his head toward real-Sithix just as something heavy crashed through the nearby vegetation, creating a chorus of shaking leaves and snapping branches that ended with an abrupt, bone-crunching thud. Real-Sithix’s attention was fixed on that spot for a few seconds before he looked at Shadow. One of his eye sockets oozed blood, while a glint of fear shown in his remaining eye.
Shadow rose and stepped toward real-Sithix.
“Stop him,” real-Sithix hissed through his jagged teeth. He dragged himself along the bank, away from Shadow. “End him!”
The foliage beside the bank rustled. Shadow glanced toward the movement.
Knife-Sithix—limbs sporting new bends and angles that were wholly unnatural—crawled out of the vegetation, dragging himself by two fingers. Despite the extent of the damage, there was still no blood. The mangled, broken creature curled his fingers and pulled himself forward a few inches before extending them again.
“Oh, my God,” Alice rasped.
Shadow returned his attention to real-Sithix and took another step toward him. “No more help. No running.”
Real-Sithix’s eye flared, the fear in them becoming dominant. He shoved off the shore as though to swim away. Shadow darted forward and dropped to one knee, plunging a hand into the water. His fingers closed around Sithix’s tail, and he squeezed to bury his claws deep.
Part of Shadow wanted to toy with Sithix—but it wasn’t the playful part of him, wasn’t the part of him that delighted in the games he played with the other denizens of Wonderland. This was something deeper, something primal; not the trickster but the beast that dwelled in the darkness buried in his heart.
He wanted to make Sithix suffer. He wanted to prolong this being’s death because no one was allowed to touch Alice but Shadow, because no one was allowed to harm her, no one was allowed to threaten her.
Sithix thrashed, churning the water. Shadow’s arm jerked, but he held fast, and—with a deep, rumbling growl—dragged Sithix toward land. Despite his struggles, Sithix couldn’t escape.
Shadow stood up, braced his feet on the stone, and stepped back, giving his foe’s tail a sharp tug. Sithix’s legs emerged from the water first. His right calf bled profusely as he scrabbled for purchase. Shadow took another step away from the stream, leaning backward with all his weight. Sithix’s torso slid onto land. He clawed at the stone slabs, breaking several of his claws in his desperation but failing to latch on.
With another great heave, Shadow dragged his foe farther back, leaving the water several feet outside Sithix’s reach. He snarled, “No running.”
Sithix twisted onto his back and kicked at Shadow with his left leg. His intact eye was bulging, his slitted pupil blown wide.
Shadow released Sithix’s tail and batted aside the boruk’s flailing legs. He dropped down atop Sithix, driving his knee—with most of his weight behind it—into Sithix’s gut, and drew one of the knives from the terrified alien’s belt.
The broken creature—formerly knife-Sithix—hissed from somewhere behind Shadow, who didn’t bother to look back. It was too late for Sithix to save himself. It was too late for Shadow to reject the crimson miasma that had consumed him.
Sithix threw up his arms, swinging, grasping, and scratching in a wild struggle.
This is real, Shadow thought. His terror is real.
Tightening his grip on the knife’s handle, Shadow swung it downward. He felt it bite flesh; that was enough to urge him on. He lifted his arm and brought it down again and again, and when warm, sticky blood splattered on the fur of his arms and face, he was driven even faster, even harder. Shadow roared his fury, his bloodlust, his sense of helplessness; he roared with all his caring for Alice. And he kept the blade moving up and down as that roar ripped out of his throat, burying metal deep in flesh only to tear it out again. The squelching sounds of the knife’s impact were wholly gratifying.
“Shadow?”
The voice was familiar, but it was so soft, so far away…
And Shadow had to keep attacking. He had to make Sithix pay, had to make sure he was gone
forever.
“Shadow!”
His arm came down again; a jolt ran through the blade and up his forearm as the metal lodged in bone. Shadow stilled his arm. For what felt like a long while, he remained in place, shoulders heaving with his panting breaths, eyes fixed on his enemy without actually seeing. The red haze didn’t fade; it took some time for him to realize why.
He was staring down at a bloody, mangled, crimson mess—at meat so torn and tattered that it would’ve looked less damaged had it been put through a grinder. Shadow’s hands and arms were bathed in glistening crimson, and he could feel droplets of blood clinging to the fur on his face.
He could even taste the blood—some of it must’ve splashed into his mouth through his painfully wide grin. That taste…it wasn’t unpleasant.
Shadow released the knife abruptly. His palm was slick with blood.
What is this? What…what am I?
He shoved himself back and landed on his backside in the grass beside the stone slabs, hands planted to either side of his hips. Rivulets of blood flowed from around Sithix, running over the flat stones to drain into the stream and drift away.
A gentle hand settled on Shadow’s shoulder, and he turned his head to see Alice kneeling beside him. Water-thinned blood trickled from the shallow cuts on her cheek and arm.
She’s mine. Mine! My Alice, my sweet.
Alice raised her other hand and cupped the side of his face. Her eyes were steady upon his.
“It’s done,” she said softly. “It’s over. He’s gone now.”
Shadow held her gaze, searching her eyes. She wasn’t lying, but her words still didn’t ring true to him; this felt somehow like a beginning, like everything had just started—and, ominously, like the worst was yet to come.
Chapter 16
Shadow didn’t know how to articulate any of his feelings, but that didn’t matter at that moment. Only Alice mattered.
He wrapped her in his arms and drew her against his chest, lowering his face to her hair. She embraced him, holding him tight as she ran a hand down the back of his head. Despite the stench of blood, despite the chill of their soaked clothing and the thundering of Shadow’s heart, her presence soothed him. Her scent, her warmth, and her touch enveloped him, carrying his mind far away from all that had just happened.
Escaping Wonderland Page 17
