by Amy Hopkins
Julianne nodded.
“And there’s no way I can talk you out of it, is there?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Well, then, let's get on with it.”
He blew out a long breath, and his face relaxed. Julianne felt his mind brush gently against hers—not enough to form a solid connection, but he would know if she was in trouble.
Julianne took a few breaths of her own, closing her eyes to find her center. She acknowledged the flutter of nerves in her stomach. She would be an idiot not to be afraid, but it didn’t mean she would let the fear control her.
She opened her eyes and lifted Ardie so she could look into his beady little eyes.
“Will you let me in, little one?” she crooned. Then, her eyes misted over.
Julianne reached towards the creature in her hands. Ardie curled into a ball but didn’t click his armored carapace shut. That was an improvement.
Ever since Bastian had mentioned the possibility of linking with the creatures, she’d made sure to use her magic around Ardie, letting him grow accustomed to it. Julianne slipped a scrap of paper from a pouch at her belt and offered it to Ardie.
He sniffed and unfurled a little. As he reached for the snack, she pushed her spell towards him.
He accepted the brush of her mind without flinching. Julianne narrowed her focus and slipped into his mind.
It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Sensations and images flooded her mind, pressing in on all sides, constricting and wrapping her in a new reality.
This was something else. The random, animalistic thought patterns that saturated her came with a vague familiarity. It brought to mind her contact with the remnant.
Where the remnant had been vicious and violent, though, Ardie’s mind was more sedate. Hunger, and the tantalizing scent of processed wood filled her nostrils and warm joy filled her belly as Ardie snatched the paper from her distracted fingers.
The sense of claustrophobia eased as Ardie ate. With a start, she realized the tightness was caused by his shell and eating made it soft and pliable for a brief period of time.
Feeling as though she was beginning to find her feet, Julianne tried something else. She formed a mental image of the rift and gently pushed it to Ardie.
The feeling of tightness snapped back, not as a physical manifestation but in the form of a memory. Frantic panic washed over her as she felt the ground pull away below. Her legs pulled in, and her head snapped down into a tight, protective ball.
She was shoved at the rift, pushed through and held in the suffocating bowels of a tight, pulsing tunnel.
The air grew stale. Julianne heaved a breath, and, when her lungs could stand it no more, she flicked back out of her hard shell and scrabbled for air. Something hard blocked her retreat, so she pushed forwards instead.
It was like trying to shove through a tight tunnel of pillows underwater. Every movement was a struggle against the sludge-like resistance, and the tiny pockets of air weren’t enough to satiate her straining lungs.
Julianne forced her mind to stay with Ardie, to relive the memory of his trip through the portal. She felt his agony and desperation as he clawed his way through, searching for freedom, for a breath of precious air.
Finally, as dark spots clouded her vision and her limbs grew weak, the scent of fresh rain leaked through. A new surge of energy sent her scrambling, pushing, shoving through the suffocating portal.
A clawed hand reached forwards, latching into something solid. She pulled it back, then jerked in fright as she realized it was another vark—this one hadn’t made it to freedom.
The spike of fear chewed through her energy but created a drive of its own. With a heave and a grunt, her long snout finally forced through the oppressive walls and sucked in a deep, giddy breath.
Julianne felt something release from her mind. For a moment, panic rose in her throat. Was someone in her head?
No, she realized. Something was in Ardie’s head. She hadn’t noticed the other consciousness at first, overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensations and thoughts.
She pulled back her magic and took a steadying breath.
“You good there, Jules?” Danil asked.
She nodded, then released the spell. Julianne looked down at the tiny creature in her hands, still feeling a residual tinge of grief at the loss of one of its brethren.
“You poor thing,” she crooned. “Shoved into that Bitch-damned portal and dumped in a strange world, all alone.” She rubbed Ardie’s head, and he nuzzled it sadly, then clawed his way up her sleeve to sit on her shoulder.
“You’re pale,” Danil pointed out.
She nodded. “I’m exhausted. But… I think I have what I need.”
“You know how to stop Gerard’s new friend?” Danil queried.
Julianne shook her head. “No. I don’t think Ardie will be able to tell me that. I can connect with him, but he’s still more animal than person, in the way he thinks. The portal on the other hand…”
The feel of gasping for breath, and the vark that hadn’t made it had given her an idea. I just need to nail down the details, she thought, before planting her hands firmly on the table and standing.
Julianne stood and felt Ardie’s momentary shift in balance as she moved. She froze.
“What is it?” Danil asked, grabbing her arm.
Julianne’s eyes widened as she carefully probed the edges of her own mind, careful not to embrace her magic to do so.
“Danil… I can still feel Ardie.”
“You mean you can’t release the spell?” Danil asked, face drawing in to a worried expression.
“Annie?” Julianne called.
The old woman bustled in, alerted by the edge to Julianne’s tone.
“What’s wrong?” She looked from Julianne to Danil, then to the little vark on Julianne’s shoulder.
“Annie, what color are my eyes?”
“Blue,” Annie said, just as Danil yelped.
“They’re clear!” he said. “Are you still—”
“Yes!” Excitement laced Julianne’s voice. “I’m not casting a spell, or stuck in one, I’m sure of it! But I can feel him, Danil.”
“Feel what, now?” Annie asked, frowning.
“I’ve made a permanent connection with Ardie,” Julianne gushed. “That’s… Well, it’s never been done before, that’s for sure!”
“I don’t think that’s exactly what happened,” Danil said slowly. His eyes were locked on Annie’s, but Julianne knew he’d be using the old woman’s vision as his own.
Annie’s eyes were riveted on Julianne… but not on her face.
“It’s Ardie,” Danil said in awe. “I… think he’s using magic. Look at his eyes!”
Julianne carefully lifted the vark, detaching his claws from her shirt. “What are you up to, little guy?” she asked, eyeing his glowing red eyes.
Ardie snuffled his snout towards her, and she felt his desire to cuddle. She cradled him close, and wondered what, exactly, she’d gotten herself into.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Goodbye, Annie!” Julianne hugged her friend. “I’ll send word as soon as the escort for Cavill is organized.
“Thank you, my girl,” Annie said. She grabbed Danil’s arm. “You can’t go without something for the journey, though.”
“We rode,” Danil laughed. “You’re only twenty minutes out of town.”
Still, he let her drag him back to the kitchen and load his arms with a warm, wrapped package that smelled of fresh biscuits.
“I know what young men are like. Always running around, forgetting to eat. And that Master of yours—you make sure she gets some of these, now!” Annie patted the bundle.
“Thanks, Annie,” Danil said and gave her a peck on the cheek.
“Danil?” Julianne called.
“Yeah?”
“Where are the horses?” Julianne’s voice was laced with worry.
He sighed. “Mathias swore they were trained no
t to run off.” He vacantly looked along the dirt road that led from the Madlands to Tahn.
Julianne glanced at him and screamed. “Danil!” She flung a hand up, pointing at the roof.
Danil reeled, his magic showing him what she saw.
Two remnant leapt off Annie’s roof, landing easily and circling around Danil and Julianne. Their nasty grins exposed broken teeth and their lank hair clung to sweaty faces in the mid-morning sun.
“Horse tasted good,” one growled.
“You’ll taste better,” the other one hooted, then plunged forwards.
“No!” Danil screamed as a remnant body slammed him. His arm, still clutched around the little parcel, crunched against his chest. “Not the biscuits! You’ll die for that, you stinking Bitch-forsaken monster!”
He twisted and ducked, barely avoiding a blow from a gnarled fist. Dropping the biscuits to the ground and kicking them to the side, Danil dropped into a crouch.
He cursed. Julianne was facing off with two of the beasts. Typical, he thought. Pick on the girl. Pity—for you—she’s not the easy target here.
Annie was still inside, running for the kitchen. Good, stay in there where it’s safe. Danil didn’t have a set of eyes to ‘borrow’, but his training with Polly had taught him he didn’t need to see in order to hit a target.
Danil breathed out slowly, focusing his senses on his immediate surroundings. He identified the sounds of Julianne’s fight, then blocked it out.
“Stupid human,” the remnant spat. “I’ll eat your shiny eyes first.”
Danil kicked towards the sound, and his foot connected. Bones crunched, and the remnant stumbled back.
He didn’t give it a chance to move, instead rushing in and dropping to the ground, elbow first.
His aim wasn’t quite true. Instead of soft belly, his elbow smashed into hard bone. He yelped in pain but rolled off before the remnant could kick him in the face. A rush of air past his cheek suggested he was only just fast enough.
Now on his back, Danil paused a moment. His position was bad, but standing to face the wrong direction would be worse.
The crunch of footsteps on dirt gave away his enemy’s position. Danil waited until he heard it again, then grabbed with both hands.
He latched onto the boot near his head and yanked. The remnant toppled and scrambled away while Danil jumped to his feet.
“Fight!” the remnant screamed. “Stop playing and fight!”
“If you say so,” Danil muttered. He ran forwards, ducked, and snapped the edge of his hand into the remnant’s throat. A high kick planted against its face, a satisfyingly wet crunch letting Danil know that this time, his aim had been true.
A gargled shriek let Danil know where to aim his final blow. This time, his kick was followed by the thump of a body against the ground. One more stomp with his heel silenced the beast.
Danil flicked his magic towards Julianne, using her eyes to see what she was up against. She’d taken out one of her attackers, but a blow to the ribs had winded her. She clutched one hand to her side, Ardie nestled in the bend of her elbow.
Julianne ducked a swing, grunting in pain. The remnant slammed into her, sending her spiraling on the ground.
The remnant stood over her, cackling.
Julianne smiled back. “Goodnight,” she said.
A hollow ding rang out, and the remnant’s eyes opened wide as it crumpled to the ground. Annie stepped back and lowered the skillet.
“Let me guess,” she said. “Left all your weapons on the horses?”
Julianne nodded guiltily. “I didn’t think even a remnant was dumb enough to start a fight in your yard,” she said.
“Well,” Annie said. “They won’t be doing it again.” Her face wrinkled in thought. “You’ve got a point, though. Even as close as I am to the Mads, there hasn’t been a remnant brave enough to show its face here since… Well, since I was a young girl.”
“Something has them restless,” Julianne said. She toed the remnant with her boot, and it stirred. “And I think it’s about time we ask them what’s going on.”
Danil groaned. “You’re not…” he asked, then heaved a weary sigh when Julianne slipped her hands under the remnant’s arms.
“Annie, do you have some rope?” she asked.
“Sure do,” Annie replied, vanishing into the house.
“I’ll be out in the barn!” Julianne called, then began dragging the unconscious remnant.
For a moment, Danil stood watching the twin trails the remnant’s boots left in the dirt. Then, he walked over and grabbed the beast’s ankles. “Marcus is going to kill me,” he griped. “He warned me. ‘Don’t let her do anything stupid’, he said. Did I listen? Nooo, not Danil. I trusted my ‘wise and responsible’ leader.”
“Good thing you did,” Julianne said happily, dropping the body with a dusty thump. “Or we wouldn’t have the chance to get to the bottom of this.”
“I don’t even know what we’re getting to the bottom of!” Danil protested, still holding the remnant up by its travel-worn boots.
Julianne dragged a stool over, then stood on it. “Over here, Annie,” she called a moment before the old lady popped her head in.
“If you’re planning to gut the thing, I’d appreciate it if you move the leathers out of the way,” Annie said dryly.
She waved at a saddle sitting near some strung-up bridles and bits.
Danil dropped the feet and winced as a booted heel landed on his toe. “I’ll do it,” he said. He grabbed the heavy saddle and lumbered outside to drop it on the grass.
Annie helped him gather the smaller parts. By the time the riding gear was safely outside, Julianne had tied one end of the rope to her captive’s wrists and ankles and flung the other over a tall beam.
She leaned backwards, using her weight to lift the remnant, feet first, into the air.
“Hand?” she gasped, cheeks red with the effort.
Danil darted over to help her. “What’s this guy been eating?” he asked. The remnant’s head and shoulders finally lifted off the ground to leave it swinging gently from the rafters.
Either the soft movement, or the surge of blood rushing towards the floor woke it up. It struggled and snapped but couldn’t slip from the tight bonds.
“He might weigh more than Mack after a good feed, but he’s a bit thin,” Julianne calmly commented.
Danil nodded. Through Julianne’s eyes, he could see the shadows in the remnants cheeks and the hollow dips near its collarbones. “Must be slim pickings out there, when all you have to eat is the odd rabbit,” he agreed. Then, Danil’s lips twitched into a smile. “Mmm, I could go for a bit of juicy rabbit.” He licked his lips and rubbed his stomach.
The remnant writhed and grunted.
“Or a leg of lamb,” Julianne said. “Remember what Mary served us up the other night? It was so rare, and the blood made a big pool underneath it.”
“I’ll eat YOU!” the remnant screamed, the imagery becoming too much for it. It kicked and bucked, desperate to escape.
“No,” Julianne said. “You’ll hang here and starve. Not a fast death, and not a quiet one. Not unless you tell me what I need to know.”
“Then you’ll feed me?” the remnant asked, eyes lighting up.
Danil snorted. “Sure. We’ll set you free to ravage our countryside and kill our friends.”
The remnant nodded eagerly, ready to make the deal.
Julianne groaned while Danil laughed. “You’re even dumber than the usual meatheads we get around here, aren’t you?” he asked. “No, moron. We’re not going to set you free.”
The remnant howled, then bared its teeth. “I ain’t telling you nothing. Eat me!”
“I’d rather eat this,” Danil said, pulling out a small bread roll and biting into it. “Mmm. Delicious!” He tore off another chunk with his teeth.
Behind the remnant, Julianne screwed up her face and shook her head. Where did you get that? she sent.
Danil shrugged.
I was saving it for later!
“Look, you big ugly monster,” Julianne said, tweaking the rope so the remnant swung around to face her. “If you answer a few easy questions, I’ll feed you. I’ll kill you straight after, but I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.”
“And if I don’t, you’ll torture me?” It sneered.
Julianne shook her head. “I’ll put a plate of freshly skinned rabbit on the floor, just out of reach. Then, we’ll go. All of us. And we’ll let you gnash your teeth and stare at that juicy rabbit until it goes rancid, and you die of hunger.” She rested a hand on her hip. “Understand?”
The remnant let out a howling roar and writhed, swinging back and forth hard enough that Julianne had to jump out of its way.
She waited patiently for the beast to vent its rage and frustration. Finally, the remnant quieted.
“I want to know why the remnant are on the move,” she asked.
The remnant growled, slowly turning in circles as the rope twisted.
“Are you running towards something, or away from it,” Julianne asked.
The remnant stayed silent. It glared at her, rheumy, yellowed eyes moving from one side to the other as it turned. Once its back was to her again, Julianne called out. “Annie!”
A door slammed inside the house, and footsteps approached. Annie walked into the barn, holding a plate of dripping meat. Her hands were still bloodied from chopping it into rough portions
“Set it down there,” Julianne told her, gesturing to a low shelf.
The coppery scent of blood filled the barn, souring the smell of fresh hay and old horse dung.
The remnant growled again, this time in a higher, more desperate pitch.
“I’ll ask again,” Julianne said patiently. “Why are the remnant traveling so far from their homes?”
It spat at her.
“You’re fighting a lost cause, girl,” Annie said. “You can’t bargain with a rock.”
Stifling a growl of her own, Julianne stood. “You’re right. I should have known the stupid beast wouldn’t cooperate. Shall we go?”
