by Natalie Grey
Up it came, and up. I was beginning to think there was no way to encompass the true size of this beast. My logical mind told me it must be as tall as some skyscrapers at this rate, and the rest of me was fervently praying that my logical mind was full of shit.
I sat there, frozen, for far too long. I watched as one lumbering step brought its shoulders free of the water, and another exposed its barrel chest and the upper arms.
Then, in another huge step and cascade of water, I saw its hands, massive and tipped in talons of pure darkness—and as I felt my fingers slide into another groove in the rock, I suddenly realized what I was feeling.
These weren’t cracks.
They were claw marks.
There was no point in pretending it hadn’t seen me. It was here for me. It was hunting me. I knew that.
And I was surrounded by the marks of its attacks on others.
I pushed myself up and ran, wet feet slapping against the stone as I took off inland.
Chapter Ten
Rock stretched before me endlessly, the sea was just as endless behind me, and the beast gave a frustrated bellow as it plunged out of the water to follow me.
All in all, not ideal.
I managed to have the philosophical thought, around the heaving breath and aching feet, that what I needed was some sort of plan. It was foolish to be wasting my energy on running without having a plan.
Unfortunately, what I had to work with was: rock. And wind.
I was probably supposed to be drawing energy from them. Crap.
Also, Daiman had told me specifically that even learning to sense the life force of wind had taken him weeks. How the hell had he survived his rite if this was what he’d faced? Maybe it just tailored itself to the capabilities of the potential druid in question. I supposed that would make sense.
I still didn’t have a plan.
I looked back over my shoulder and really wished I hadn’t. For one thing, I tripped and went sprawling in a burst of pain along my side and ankle. For another, it turned out my logical self had been right on about how big the beast was, and I practically had a heart attack.
I pushed myself up and kept running, because I couldn’t really think of anything else to do. It wasn’t taking particularly fast steps, but on the other hand, it was as tall as a small skyscraper, and each step got it pretty far.
Think, think!
I was in the domhan fior. I could … go back to the real world. Only I didn’t know where I was, and for all I knew, I’d end up somewhere worse.
Shelve that option for later.
I could try to navigate in the real world, but that required some fairly intense concentration and I didn’t have any time for that shit right now.
A blur on the horizon made me squint. Lava? Mountains? …Forest?
I remembered Daiman telling me that everyone came into the domhan fior at a different place, and an idea flashed into my head. If it was all stitched together of a piece, then there was forest somewhere. There was a place for a small being like me to run away from this monster and hide while I formulated a better plan.
Please, I prayed. Bring me to the forest. Fold the ground under my feet, do whatever you have to do, just get me somewhere safe.
There was no answer, which seemed about right. I’d never gotten an answer from any god before, after all. I didn’t see why a whole alternate world should function any differently.
Though, to be fair, it seemed to be trying. The blur was moving closer, far faster than I was running to meet it. I sped up, my whole world narrowing to the pounding in my leg bones and the wet slap of seaweed on rocks behind me—now, there was a sound I’d never expected to be terrifying—as my eyes focused on the blur. Let it be green, let it be green….
It was green. I could have cried with relief.
I risked another glance over my shoulder and actually did give a sob. The same magic that carried me toward the forest was carrying me away from the creature at an equal rate. It was running heavily after me, shrieking its fury, but it wasn’t fast enough to catch me when I was running this fast.
I collided with the forest at high speed, plunging into the undergrowth while branches whipped at my face and thorns caught at my robes. None of that mattered, all that mattered was that I felt safer now.
I doubled over and heaved for air. My lungs ached. Breathing, at this point, seemed no different than setting my chest on fire with a flamethrower. I braced my hands on my knees and tried not to throw up again. My throat was sore enough as it was.
Another shriek had me jerking around in fear.
Why the hell did I think I was safe? I wasn’t safe. I was being chased by a monster from a particularly inventive druid’s nightmare, and if this test was proving one thing, it was that druids did not play fair.
The shriek came again, and a shudder in the earth as if the beast had slammed its fists down.
Shit. I looked around myself. Which way to run? Sideways, and hope it couldn’t sense me?
But the trees didn’t shake with its passing, and I heard no crunch of undergrowth under its gigantic feet. When I craned to look, I saw it pacing, slamming the ground—for all the world like an angry gorilla made out of water plants.
I backed away slowly, as silently as I could. I didn’t want to question my good fortune … or tempt it to an angry outburst. Maybe it could throw water bolts, after all.
Okay, now to find my way through the forest. Was that what I was supposed to do? Maybe they were all watching me run away and shaking their heads. Maybe I had already failed.
Well, like hell I was going to die stupidly by running directly at that thing. I reassured myself with the fact that I’d promised Daiman I wouldn’t take stupid risks.
Right.
My head jerked sideways. I was sure I’d heard a footstep, I was sure I’d seen the shape of someone in a cloak….
There was no one there. I told myself I didn’t believe in ghosts, and took a deep breath.
Still, I looked around myself a lot as I continued onward, relaxing only slowly into the decision of what in the hell I was supposed to do next.
I was so preoccupied with my whirl of thoughts that I didn’t notice the glint of water through the trees or the sounds of people until I stumbled directly into a clearing and came face to face with a large number of what seemed to be water nymphs. Naked water nymphs, who had been bathing themselves.
The women shrieked in surprise, far more delicately than the beast had, and went about covering themselves and peeping over their shoulders at me. The men, meanwhile, eyed me up and down as if I were at my most alluring.
Given the current state of my hair and attire, they got bonus points for that. I directed a few smiles back at them, taking in well-muscled chests and blue skin, pale eyes and rippling black hair, and then recalled myself.
I bowed and came up with a gentle smile, tucking my arms into my sleeves. “I apologize for startling you. My name is Nicola.”
Over the years, I had found that a self-deprecating greeting and some manners tended to work wonders on people, and it did the same for me now. The nymphs flowed to the edge of the pool to examine me, propping their chins on crossed arms and whispering amongst themselves.
“You’re hurt,” one of them said.
“You should come bathe with us,” another agreed. She flicked a black braid over her shoulder.
“The water will heal you,” a third added.
They all nodded at one another.
I felt my lips twitch. I didn’t know much about the mythical creatures of the Irish lands, but these had a certain innocent quality about them, all logic and openness.
“Come,” one of the men suggested. He hoisted himself up to sit on the edge of the pool, entirely without shame at his nakedness, and patted the ground next to him. “Shed your robe and come join us. We will tend to your wounds.”
I blinked and focused on the trees above his head. I couldn’t tell whether his offer was meant literally, or a
s an enticement. I wondered if it was normal for nymphs to make these sorts of offers.
“Yes,” the women chimed in. They jostled one another shyly. “You should take off your robe. They look so uncomfortable.” I caught a couple of gleaming smiles from under lowered eyelashes.
This was definitely not what I was expecting from this test, and it was a fairly jarring change from a few minutes ago. I looked over my shoulder, toward the edge of the forest where I was sure the beast was still pacing.
There was a chorus of laughter, chiming and tumbling over itself like a waterfall.
“He can’t reach you here,” a nymph told me.
“This isn’t his domain,” another added.
Apparently, nymphs never finished their own thoughts.
“Come,” the male nymph told me again. His smile was seductive, his skin slick with water. I could have drowned in his eyes. He stood, lazy and self-satisfied in his nakedness, to hold out his hand. “Swim with me. Leave your robes, and come swim.”
“Come swim,” the others echoed, as if swimming with a couple mid-seduction wouldn’t be awkward for them at all.
The desire was unmistakable. He wanted me. He wanted me to come closer. I didn’t doubt it for a second.
But he wouldn’t come to me. He wouldn’t touch me. He wouldn’t come closer. None of them would.
I took a few cautious steps forward.
“Take off your robes,” they chorused. The women shook their heads at me, all of them exquisite, any of them clearly willing to offer the same delights as the male nymph. “Come join us. We’ll heal you.”
I peered down into the water of the pool.
It had no bottom. It was as if it went on forever, down into the center of the earth.
And now I could hear the faint note of panic in their voices, and as I looked at them more carefully, I saw the way their eyes lingered on the pouch at my belt.
The herbs. Protection … and weapons.
I wasn’t safe here. I came to the realization without any conscious thought, and I turned and ran back the way I had come.
“Come join us!” A drop of dew fell from a leaf nearby and I saw the shimmering ghost-shape of one of the nymphs, her perfect body sliding seductively out of sight behind a tree.
“You’re so tired,” another cooed. Fingers only half-felt brushed against my back as another nymph melted away into the shadows.
“Rest,” the male nymph’s voice breathed in my ear.
I ran, but all I could seem to see was the beautiful blue of the waters. I ached to go back. I could see them pulling me into their midst, hands on skin, bodies pressing against mine—
—and dragging me down into the depths.
It took a few minutes to realize just how hard it was to move. My teeth were chattering for some reason. Each step away from them cost a monumental effort. They were trying to drag me back.
“I’m not going to give in.” I gritted my teeth on the words. “You should know I’m … very stubborn.” I used a tree to haul myself further away.
“Why don’t you want to swim with us?” For a moment, I was amongst them, awash with pleasure.
“You’re going to drown me.” I had to focus very hard on that fact.
“Yes, but you’d have everything you wanted first.” Their voices were so lovely, so beautiful.
I looked over my shoulder, swaying on my feet with the effort of trying to get away. Everything I’d ever wanted. I could die knowing that I was loved, I could feel total acceptance, total peace. Pleasure would drive everything else from my mind….
I gave a little whimper, the tiny, trapped noise of an animal.
And then I turned and pushed myself out onto the rock face to stare down the beast from the ocean.
Chapter Eleven
The beast reared back as I came out of the forest, and I stared up at it like I imagined someone would stare up at a dragon.
This was a good way to die. I was aware of that.
But given the choice between the enemy that disguised itself, and the enemy that came at me directly, I’d choose the latter, every time.
And given the choice between letting my enemy get the first shot in, and getting that first shot in myself, I’d also choose the latter. I threw everything I had into a bolt of death magic.
Everything I had … was just about nothing at this point. The bolt of magic left my hands weakly, ill-formed and slow. It had the seductive glimmer of darkness about it, suggesting stars and liquid night, but it wasn’t strong.
The nymphs had taken nearly everything I had after my ordeal in the ocean, and even that hadn’t been much.
Even worse, the bolt of magic did absolutely nothing to the beast. It didn’t even seem to touch it. The beast absorbed the hit without so much as staggering. It did not clutch its chest, and it did not seem to see the magic at all.
It tilted its not-quite-a-head at me for a moment, and then it bellowed and charged.
I dodged sideways on shaky legs and found myself scrambling between massive hands and feet. I was a tiny target to it, easy to miss, but those hands had come close to hitting me—and if they had, I’d be dead. The beast raked its claws along the ground, scoring soundless furrows in the rock and lichen, and its scream was half-hiss.
It made my blood run cold. I circled around behind it. I needed…
What did I need? Magic I didn’t have, because my magic seemed not to be able to touch this beast.
How—how—had any child ever passed this test? The thought of a child trying to evade this monster, or climb their way out of the sea, or escape the clutches of water nymphs, was enough to terrify me to my very core. Surely no Chief Druid could face sending a child to such a death.
I didn’t understand any of this.
I cast around myself. The rocks here, unlike those of the Burren, had no plants growing in the cracks. Flowers didn’t sing to me in a light druid trance, and I could not sense insects or birds. When I tried to grasp at the life force of the trees in the forest, the magic slithered from my grasp with a discordant note.
The trees weren’t real. The nymphs weren’t real. The only thing that seemed to be real was the beast.
What the hell was this place?
The beast wheeled around to face me and I dodged straight between its feet as its hands came down again. This time, chips of stone flew to catch me in the back and knock me flat. I pushed myself up, tasting blood, and kept running, kept circling.
The forest was still there, taunting me. It was a false haven, and how long would it be until I was weary enough to see shelter there?
The beast growl-shrieked its anger and lumbered around again, but I dodged behind it.
No plan. I had no plan at all. Enemies behind me, and enemies in front of me. Lifeless rock and lifeless trees. Only the sunlight warmed me here.
Sunlight. I cast a quick look up at the sun and wondered if that, at least, was real. Could I use it? I’d never managed to before.
I dodged again, ducking and weaving around massive feet as the beast craned to see me and snatch me up. Sunlight was … warm. It was like honey in the mornings, it showed the dust in the air, it came with birdsong, it breathed life into plants.
A bellow, and this time the claws caught me on the shoulder. Pure darkness and death ripped into me, blood erupting from the wound, and the sound that came out of me was like nothing I had ever heard from my own mouth.
This was what my power felt like. This was death made into magic. I staggered and ran, feeling a flare of life even as my flesh sang in agony. This was wrong, just wrong, no one should be hurt like this, no one should die like this.
How many people had I killed this way?
I stared up at the beast in horror. They had dragged me here to face myself. Was that why the monsters were so strong, so seductive, so filled with lies and death?
Was that what I had to defeat to escape this place? If so … how?
Sunlight.
I forced my feet into mot
ion. My lips were moving, over and over, colliding awkwardly with one another, and for a few moments, I couldn’t hear what I was saying.
“…You stop moving, you die. You stop moving, you die.”
As mantras went, it wasn’t bad, but it terrified me.
I needed to do something more than move, though. I was cradling my injured arm like a baby and I could barely balance. I hooked the thumb awkwardly into my belt, wincing at the pain my shoulder, and winced again when my hand brushed something that felt like pure fire.
The nettles.
They had sent me here with the herbs, and the herbs had driven away the nymphs.
Why? Why send me here with a weapon that was as much superstition as anything?
Unless it wasn’t superstition. Unless….
My thoughts were fuzzy. I couldn’t quite bring the feeling into words. I just had to remember what Morgana had said about these herbs.
The nettle protected … I stumbled away from a blow.
The beast was wary now, and I didn’t know why. Did it feel the same magic in my blood that ran in its veins?
The nettle protected from dark magic. The mistletoe opened doors. The dandelion was for rejuvenation, the willow for fever, and the ferns … also to protect me.
I drew the herbs forth, fumbling and cursing. The mistletoe and willow fell away, crushed underfoot with the berries, and I grimaced at the fiery brush of nettles against my skin. But when I held out my little handful, nettles and dandelion and ferns, the beast fell away even more warily.
There was something to it.
I swayed on my feet and looked into the beast’s eyes.
And I saw it decide to kill me. Before, it had wanted to kill me only because that was what it did, and I was a tiny, crushable thing. Now I was a threat to it. Now I had a weapon.
Protection from dark magic. Rejuvenation. Warding.
And sunlight. I dropped my head back and let the light drip over my face. All the energy in the world flowed from this, could I not harvest it as my own?
