As one of the shadows easily wrestled Robert to the ground, the other turned its impassive attention on her.
Donna didn’t intend to be prey. Not tonight. She clambered out of the brambles, her coat catching on thorns that seemed to be trying to drag her back down again. Angrily, she ripped off the coat, throwing the shredded pieces behind her and squeezing her hands into silver fists.
Whatever these creatures were, they obviously belonged in the Otherworld.
The shadow man’s eyes were cold blank spaces, and its whole presence made her shiver. It glided toward her the moment she set foot back on the scattered dirt and stones of the path. In the sudden brightness of an otherworldly lightning bolt, she could see the skid marks her sneakers had made when Robert pushed her out of harm’s way.
The creature was nothing more than a silhouette. Quite literally—it was like a man’s tall, thin shadow had stepped off a wall at noon and decided to attack two passersby. Only Donna knew this was no chance encounter.
It slid closer and raised an arm.
She threw herself to the side, rolling on the ground and gasping with pain when her shoulder made contact with something sharp. For a moment she thought she’d cut herself—again—but soon realized that the burning pain in her shoulder was getting worse. The shadow man had hold of her, and was dragging her to her feet. Her feet scrabbled impotently against the earth, desperately trying to get away from this silent monster, but it was stronger than anything she’d ever come up against before.
Even the Skriker.
With the image of the fey hellhound flashing through her screaming mind, Donna gritted her teeth and put both her hands around her attacker’s wrist. She squeezed as hard as she could, trying not to think about the human-shaped arm and how real it felt, but instead imagining she was cracking a very large nut.
It released her, although it didn’t make a sound. Donna could only hope she’d hurt it as she tumbled to the ground and rolled immediately back to her feet.
Without letting herself stop to think—to be afraid—she swung at it with her right fist, gasping with shock as her hand went right through it and her momentum carried her forward—
—and right through her attacker. For a moment she was encased in cold and dark, her bones grinding and aching as she passed through the blackness and fell out the other side, skidding to a halt and whirling back to face the creature. Nausea reared its ugly head in her belly, but she clamped her teeth together and held up her fists again, vowing that if they got out of this, she was going to learn how to fight correctly.
Robert had somehow gotten himself free of the other monster and was running in her direction. “Donna, we need to get the shadows into a circle!”
“A circle?”
She felt young and inexperienced, hating it but knowing she didn’t have the tools to deal with whatever these things were. “Shadows,” Robert had called them, and she wondered if that was their true name or whether it was just something he’d come up with there and then. Her hand had just gone straight through the creature that grabbed her—which didn’t even make sense. How could something be solid enough to take hold of her arm, but then be like a ghost when she punched it with her other hand? If they could change their density at will, her enhanced strength was effectively useless—perhaps she’d gotten lucky when she’d managed to free herself before. It was as if the shadow had adapted to her abilities and could use her strength against her.
“What are they?” she managed to gasp, even as she kicked out at her assailant and stumbled when her leg sliced through its shadowy body.
Robert was there beside her, digging in one of the many pockets of his jacket. He drew out what looked like a small black pouch, but before she could say for sure, she was lifted high above the ground by seemingly invisible hands and thrown across the pathway.
Donna hit a tree trunk on the way back down, and she bit back a cry of pain. She would not give that thing the satisfaction. If it even felt emotions like satisfaction. She was having a hard time thinking of the creatures as anything other than thoroughly inhuman—almost alien. And it had just grabbed her again, which meant it had turned solid enough to do that. Perhaps that meant she could get in a good strike of her own before it went all … shadowy again.
She groaned from her current position, lying flat out beneath a skeletal tree. Maybe getting up was going to be a lot harder than she’d anticipated. Her ribs ached and she felt sick.
The shadow man stood over her, just … watching.
Robert dodged around it and reached down to scoop her, one-handed, off the ground. “Get behind me, Donna.”
Oh, God … those words. Get behind me, Donna! She felt sick as a dark and twisted memory of her father almost overwhelmed her.
Wanting to argue with Robert, but knowing she was way out of her league—at least until she knew more about the shadows—Donna did as she was told. Whatever he was doing, she didn’t want to get in the way of that. He was so serious and in control; there was a lot more to Robert than she had initially given him credit for.
But then again, he was a fully trained alchemical adept, even if he was from the Order of the Crow; she’d been brought up to believe that it was only the Order of the Dragon who still actively practiced any form of magic.
Robert tossed a handful of what looked like salt at the advancing creature.
This sort of looked like magic to her.
He spared her a glance. “They’re demon shadows. Not true demons, but close enough, in terms of anything we have experience with. Sort of like a first wave of attack, I suppose.”
Demons … Donna swallowed against a feeling of sheer terror as the full weight of what was happening came crashing down on her. A vivid image of the bronze statue in Simon’s lab flashed through her strained mind; Newton had claimed to be a trapped demon.
And now here, the very next night, she was coming face-to-face with more demons. Or demon shadows, as Robert called them.
“How do you know this?” She grabbed Robert’s arm and pulled him toward her as the second creature—the one that had tackled him to the ground earlier—recovered from whatever he’d done to it. Maybe he’d used the salt on it; it seemed to make them shrink back temporarily. Like slugs, she thought with disgust.
Both shadows stood perfectly still, watching and waiting for them to make a move. It was creepy, as though the creatures had begun to mirror their actions, tracking them like the prey she so desperately didn’t want to be.
Robert pulled out another pouch.
“How much stuff are you carrying, anyway?” she asked, pushing down her fear and trying to focus on getting out of this in one piece. “Who the hell do you think you are, Batman?”
Robert actually flashed a grin. “Close. Try James Bond, darling.”
She choked on a strained laugh. “Yeah, because you’re totally like James Bond.”
“I’m more 007 than caped crusader, I’ll have you know.” He sounded genuinely offended. “Suave, well-dressed, skilled in the arts of multiple types of combat, and highly attractive to both men and women …”
The demon shadows moved in tandem, as if controlled by the same mind. Closing the short distance between themselves and their targets, they reached out with misshapen, inkblot fingers.
Robert grabbed Donna’s hand and ran, pulling her behind him so fast that her feet dragged along the ground.
“Wait, stop!” She slammed on the brakes and used her strength to resist him. She didn’t want to hurt him again—no matter how annoying he’d been in the past—but she still needed to get back to the clearing. Robert was taking her away from the doorway.
She tugged hard on his arm, feeling him trying to drag her toward a group of trees on the far side of the pathway. Feeling only vaguely guilty, she squeezed his hand tightly in hers until he cried out in pain.
“Stop doing that! Whose side are you on?” He shook his hand free and rubbed his fingers gingerly, giving her a murderous look.
&nbs
p; Donna glanced over her shoulder and shivered as the shadow men did their creepy gliding thing toward them. Didn’t these things ever give up?
She fixed him with what she hoped was a sincere expression. “I’m sorry, but we can’t just run. I won’t leave those things here—not if they’re a threat to people.” Maybe if she appealed to his heroic sensibilities, she could get him to help her fight them—and then return to close the gate to the Otherworld.
Fear cramped her stomach as she thought of facing Demian again, but she wouldn’t let that stop her.
Robert shook his head quickly. “Do you see other people around? The only ones in any danger are you and me.”
“I told you before, I don’t want you to protect me.”
“And I don’t want you getting in my way,” he shot back. He had the pouch in his hand again. “Stand still.” He scattered salt around her in a circle, bending over to reach the ground while trying to keep an eye on the shadows.
“Why are you doing that?”
He didn’t reply, but she was pretty sure the muttering under his breath wasn’t complimentary toward her. For one moment she’d actually thought it might be some kind of alchemical incantation, but then she heard the words “idiot” and “useless.”
Oo-kay. Not a spell, then.
“Originally, I was going to trap them in a circle—we can’t destroy them. The best we can hope for is to hold them for a while.” Although his voice was matter-of-fact, she could detect a faint thread of worry running through it. He was working faster now, scattering salt wildly around both Donna and himself.
“Why aren’t they moving?” The creepy things were now just standing there, swaying. Like giant, man-shaped rattlesnakes.
“Waiting for us to run—they’re hunters. The movement gives them something to track.” He stood up, breathing heavily from all the bending and salt-scattering. “Okay, that should do it.”
“Do wha—?”
“Lux!” he shouted.
Brilliant light blasted into an uneven circle around them.
Donna stared at it in wonder—although it was bright, she could still look at it without having to squint.
“I thought you said you were going to put them in the circle,” she said, feeling trapped and nervous.
“Change of plan. We’ll be safe here until they get bored.”
“What if they don’t get bored?”
Robert glanced down at her. “You’re a regular little ray of sunshine, aren’t you?”
Donna rolled her eyes, trying to hide how truly terrified she was. “But now we’re stuck here. That doesn’t seem like such a smart plan to me.”
“Where there are two shadows, there will be more, trust me. Did you think this was it?”
“No, of course not. But I don’t like being trapped here—I need to do something.”
He looked down at her, his dark eyes fierce. “So far, all you’ve managed to do is get yourself tossed around. This is safer.”
Although she appreciated the fact that he didn’t mention how it had been her who’d let them out in the first place, she still wished she could try closing the Otherworld door. Despite Robert’s dire warnings about how it had taken lots of alchemists and some serious mojo to do it before, surely she couldn’t leave the Ironwood without at least making an attempt.
She sighed. “They’re not going anywhere, Robert.”
But the shadow men did move away, and they did it surprisingly quickly. Even Robert seemed taken aback.
“Maybe he called them away,” he said, sounding genuinely confused.
She frowned. “Who?”
“The demon king; the one who seemed so bewitched by you.”
Donna shivered. “Don’t say that.”
He shrugged. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“Wait a minute—” She wanted to say how it seemed too easy. Too fast and convenient.
But Robert had already touched the wall of light that encircled them, and it disappeared. He took three steps forward and was immediately engulfed by shadows. It looked like someone had poured a huge vat of oil over him, only the oil was moving.
Donna screamed as she lost sight of him in the crush of bodies.
“Run!” he shouted. His voice was muffled.
Oh God, how many of these things are there? She glared at her tattoos glinting in the night, cursing herself for how useless she was. She counted five, six … no, seven of them. Seven demon shadows. Robert didn’t stand a chance.
She ran toward the writhing mass of darkness, trying to catch a glimpse of the young alchemist she was already tentatively thinking of as a friend.
“Get out of here!” Robert called, but she could hear pain in his voice. “Run, Donna, and don’t look back.”
Her heart stuttered. He’d done it again—those had been her father’s words to her, that awful night in the Ironwood all those years ago. At least, those were the words her father spoke in her nightmares. It was a truly bizarre coincidence that Robert had twice echoed Patrick Underwood.
Was it an omen? Donna wasn’t normally superstitious, but maybe Dad was trying to send her a message. Yet she couldn’t imagine he’d be telling her to run. She had never run from a fight in her life, and there was no way she was about to start now—not even when facing demonic shadows she hadn’t even known existed until today.
What can I do against them?
“Do something. Anything!” She hadn’t meant to scream it aloud, but it made her feel better for a moment—at least until seven inky heads lifted in unison and glanced in her direction with empty eyes.
What had Robert said about them before? They’re hunters. Think, Underwood! she told herself fiercely. Use your damn brain. The shadows followed movement—the quicker the better. Surely it wouldn’t be too difficult to make herself a more attractive target than the fallen alchemist.
She was moving before she even had a chance to be afraid. Robert hadn’t hesitated when it came to helping her, and she owed it to him to do the same. If it wasn’t already too late.
Donna ran faster than she’d ever thought possible—cold air sang in her throat and her chest felt stretched too tight. She pumped her arms and legs, barely looking at the scattered earth as it flew beneath her. As badly as she wanted to return to the clearing with the doorway to Hell, she knew that it was hopeless. Too much time had passed, and she didn’t really know what she could do to re-seal the gate anyway. Especially considering it was now probably fully open, letting demons and their shadows into this side of reality in even greater numbers.
Not to mention the fact that Demian, the king of the demons, would undoubtedly be there.
Cold wind whipped her hair about her face as the lightning-lashed sky lit her way through the trees. An idea was taking shape in Donna’s mind, but the shuddering ground and the hiss of the shadow men behind her made it almost impossible to think clearly. At the moment, all she could do was to try leading them away from Robert, but she couldn’t outrun them indefinitely. Far from it. She’d probably only managed it for this long because she’d kept darting around tree trunks and circling back the way she’d come. These particular creatures seemed to do better when moving in a straight line. Perhaps there were no zig-zags in Hell, she thought, clamping down on strained laughter that was bubbling up from a dark place.
Her throat burned and she knew she couldn’t keep going. She was also pretty certain she was circling back to the pathway where Robert had fallen. In a sudden wave of regret, she cursed herself for running in the first place; she should never have left her new friend behind, no matter how good her intentions had been.
Bursting from the undergrowth, Donna hit the trail at an exhausted run. Her pursuers were only seconds behind her; she could hear them whisper-gliding through the Ironwood.
She could make out a figure lying cold and still on the hard-packed earth. Dream-memories of her father threatened to drive her to her knees, but Donna kept moving. This isn’t Dad, she told herself firmly. Thi
s is Robert Lee. Her throat tightened as she reached him, wondering if it was possible to survive being overrun by demon shadows. Wondering if she had drawn them away in time.
“Please,” she whispered to nobody in particular. Please, let him be okay. Let her not have cost a good man his life.
Before she could even crouch beside Robert to check for a pulse, the shadows flowed out of the trees and onto the path. This wasn’t the first time Donna had looked death in the eye, but it wasn’t exactly something you were ever prepared for. Violent slashes of lightning rent the night sky, a dramatic portent she could have done without.
She stood in front of Robert’s body and waited for the first monster to reach her.
Twenty-two
And then she isn’t running anymore because she’s lying flat on her back on the hard ground. The darkness, like hundreds of cold hands, is pressing down on her. She can’t breathe. She will drown in all this blackness if she can’t get back on her feet.
Donna felt like she’d been here before, only that wasn’t possible … was it? Then she remembered that she sort of had, in that weirdly realistic, almost lucid dream just before she’d been woken up by Ivy’s hand across her mouth. It seemed so long ago.
The shadows had engulfed her so quickly it was like she was, once again, in her bedroom and Ivy had cast the Wood Queen’s charm to make the blackness absolute. The brutal darkness was so complete she might as well have been blind. Donna knew that if she took too deep a breath, she would inhale the demon shadows—somehow take them inside her soul and become one with the dark.
Her chest ached from the constant shallow breathing, and her skin hurt from the obsidian coldness. She couldn’t hear anything, and all she could feel was the earth at her back as she lay on the ground. She turned her head and saw Robert’s body on the other side of the pathway.
The Wood Queen Page 21
