by Ren Ryder
“As any of the fae would,” Bell said happily.
“I’m still not sure I’m happy to be here, alive.”
“That’s obvious, considering how ungrateful you are.”
“Good. Then, first and foremost, let’s find these flowers the merrow want. We can worry about everything else after we have them.”
“Well, they’re on the Nightside, so…” Bell trailed off.
I caught her meaning. We’d pretty much exhausted any grace period we might have had while the slaugh gathered. At the very least I expected more encounters with them as long as we lingered in the Twilit Boundary. And, seeing as I didn’t fancy becoming part of their host, I wanted to be on my way sooner rather than later.
I kicked around with my feet, until I chanced upon what I was looking for. Crouching, I checked over my discovery with apprising eyes. It was a simple thorn vine. Nothing special about it that I could see, but Bell seemed firm in her knowledge about the ways.
I poked it with a finger, and the thorn pricked me. A bead of purplish blood formed on my finger, and Bell practically dive-bombed me to slurp it out of the air before it touched the ground.
Bell’s eyes went wide. She licked her lips. “Oh. Oh, wow. That’s. It’s, wow, you’ve really aged well, Kal.”
Was that a tear in her eye? “I’m not a fine wine, you know,” I scoffed.
“No, no, I know. You’re the cup of life, the holy grail~”
“I wish you’d find yourself a new hobby.”
“And deprive myself of your delicious blood? You’re not serious.”
I rolled my eyes. She didn’t even consider it.
I grabbed the thorn vine with one hand, then the other, letting the thorns sink into the palms of my hands one after the other. I winced, braced myself, then pulled with all my might, using the strength in my legs combined with my upper body.
The vine sprayed dirt and rocks everywhere as I exhumed it from the soil. I tugged until the line rose into the air and went taut. Resistance came from the other end, no doubt where the thorny vine lay burrowed beneath the topsoil.
A literal path of thorns. Swell.
Chapter Five
Submerged beneath a sea of fog with no gauge for how far or how long I’d traveled, I felt lost in a daze. A thousand tiny pinpricks added up to a bloody mess. I stopped periodically to wipe my hands off on what was left of my shirt, swap my staff to my offhand, and wipe the sweat off my brow with my forearm.
Neither helped much, since I was covered head to toe in sweat, and my shirt was on its last legs after getting caught by the thorns consistently. Somehow Bell was dozing in my shirtfront pocket, none the wiser. My pants were holding up a lot better, so I was still decent for the most part. I was most thankful for my boots, though, I definitely had no desire to be walking barefoot in a forest.
I kept my mana skin on like a cloak to protect me from the elements. I don’t know that I benefited from it that much, but I felt more secure with it on.
The horrible shrieks and cries of the slaugh assaulted my ears from all directions as I followed my path of thorns, but the hordes Bell described hadn’t happened across me yet. I did confront a few solitary apparitions along the way, though. Those, like the first, were on their last legs and weren’t much of a challenge to disperse.
I’d be effectively immobile if I was drawn into serious conflict while on my path of thorns. That or I’d be forced to drop the path and risk losing my way to commit myself to a fight.
Wouldn’t you know, my path of thorns swerved this way and that, making me second guess whether I was making any progress at all. Had I doubled back and ended up near where I'd started? There was no way I was backtracking to find out, so I’d never confirm the suspicion.
My copper bangle heated against the skin of my bicep incrementally as my trial dragged on, making me suspect the sea of fog had some, more insidious purpose. Without the bangle’s insulating protection I could easily see myself becoming befuddled, wandering lost in the fog until a pack of slaugh devoured me.
Still, as it was, the longer I was in the fog, the fuzzier I felt.
Hand over hand, I dragged myself across the Twilit Boundary in zigzags, following along like a crack in the pavement. Somehow I’d gotten used to the piercing pain each time I grasped and pulled on the vine to reveal the next portion of my path. Though at some point the blood loss began to make me sorta, dizzy, and kinda, lightheaded.
Sammie’s youthful form materialized in front of me, innocent and bright despite a dismal life. My little sister meant everything to me, and I would do anything for her.
The image of Sammie in her youth was shattered by my own hand, and was replaced with an older, almost unrecognizable young lady. She was still Sammie, but her features had hard edges where none had been before. The emerald pools of her eyes had a dark depth to them that my feelings for her couldn’t penetrate. Her fire-red hair was an out-of-control mess of tangled, curly locks that made her into a tinderbox ready to blow.
My chest, my heart ached. I stopped moving along my path of thorns to knead my knuckles into the flesh over my heart. Scar tissue caught between my fingers.
My mind turned on itself.
Another vision assaulted me. I had just slain the wyrm, was covered in wounds and my own blood. Sammie took to the sands of the arena. We exchanged words. And she, she stabbed me— in the back, straight through the heart, until the blade burst out my chest.
I was unwilling to confront Sammie’s betrayal, and now it haunted me, dogging my every step, waiting for a moment’s weakness.
A pain like being stabbed through the heart anew pierced me, and I ripped up my shirtfront to examine myself. Just left and down from the sternum, I watched as a black spiderweb of veins rose on my skin all around the area above my heart.
Bell tumbled out of the air as she was cast out her sleeping chambers. “Hey, what gives? What, we aren’t there yet? Why’d the ride stop?” Bell buzzed her complaints by me. “Woah, what’s wrong with you?”
Bell flew right up to my chest to get a good look at what was happening. “That’s not good. Usually it’d be a benefit, but the merrow blood in you is turning sour. Damn. It’s a curse. They must really want to get their hands on some moonflowers. Well, or they really want you dead by Samhain’s end.”
“There’s… merrow blood, in me?” I remembered the steady drip, drip, drip of liquid into my mouth that I mistook for water.
“Merrow blood is known for its healing qualities. They say the flesh can bring the dead back to life, and make the one who eats it immortal, but those are tall tales. They brought you back from the brink and then some though, I’ll say. You feel a bit stronger, more agile, isn’t that right? That’s the merrow blood.”
“And these black lines?” I shuddered as I traced them with my forefinger.
“A curse to turn your blood poison by Samhain’s end, I’d bet,” Bell clapped her hands. “Well, there’s no reason to cry over spilt milk. Let’s not worry about it. There’s nothing to be done that we aren’t already doing, anyway.”
My heart leapt into my throat. I could feel the poison running through me now, subtle, but it was there.
I couldn’t make myself feel happy about being alive, but that didn’t mean I wished myself a painful, lingering death. There was nothing else for it though. It pained me to admit, but Bell was right. Coming to terms with Sammie’s betrayal was important, but, with an ever unclear future, I needed to keep advancing despite the past.
Even if there is no point to survival, no greater purpose behind being alive.
Something heavy slammed into my left side with the force of a falling boulder.
I stiffened on impact. Without considering the incoming danger, I thought only to hang onto the thorn vine for all I was worth. If I lost the path… it wasn’t even worth considering. I got caught in the thorns as I flipped, and the vine wrapped around me like a boa constrictor. Pain spiraled up and down my body as the thorns bit into me.
Whatever ran into me thunked down next to me as it expended its momentum. I lay gasping on my back, arching my body to try and reduce the pressure of the thorns biting into me. My stubborn fists remained clasped around the vine itself in a death grip, and it took some doing to detach my bloody hands. Only then could I begin to untangle myself from the rest.
By pure luck my staff fumbled its way back into my hands as I righted myself. I got to a knee.
How far gone am I, to be so taken by surprise?
The shrieks of the slaugh were like a constant refrain, but normally I would’ve heard any sounds of fighting.
Beside me, close enough I could see the outline of their collapsed body, was a giant of a man. The sheer mass of the guy made me think of an ogre, but that couldn’t be right. I bent down. My hand landed on a meaty forearm, and I recognized the feel of crystals beneath my fingers.
“Fin? Fin Macool, is that you?”
“... Kal?”
“Interesting place to have a reunion,” I joked. “I’d offer to help you up, but…” I trailed off, thinking I already had my hands full with my staff and path of thorns.
“No need, I can manage,” Fin grunted, then, with a nimbleness I wouldn’t expect from such a big guy, he jackknifed to his feet.
Even if he had nothing else going for him, he was quite sturdy. Whatever knocked him for a loop didn’t seem to have left any lasting damage.
“Kal! Kal, where are you?!” Bell’s muffled voice carried through the fog.
A violent wind tore through the area around us, clearing an entire swath of fog from the area. Based off my previous experience with it the sea of fog would soon start to regenerate itself, but we’d gained a moment’s respite.
Bell spotted us and flew over to rejoin me. “Oh, there you are. And who might this be— that’s an ogre! Quick Kal, kill it, before it eats you!”
“You’ve a sylph familiar?” Fin asked, nonplussed by Bell’s reaction to his physique.
“I think you might be overreacting a smidge,” I said to Bell, extending an arm to the admittedly monstrous, titan of a man. “You don’t remember? We met him before the first trial, this is Fin.”
Bell circled Fin like a shark stalking its prey. “Mmm, I don’t remember. Suppose he isn’t an ogre. Another champion is dangerous to keep around, you never know what he might do to secure his victory over you.”
“Fin Macool, it’s a pleasure to become acquainted with one of your kind, m’lady.” Cool as a cucumber, Fin ignored Bell’s provocations. “You need not worry, I am not seeking the mantle of king. I have no desire to carry such a burden. I only wish to survive these trials and claim my due reward.”
I shook my path of thorns to bring it to Fin’s attention. “We need to keep hold of this vine— it’s our ticket out of here. What have you been doing to make it this far?”
“Wandering aimlessly, mostly. This fog truly is a bother, and the slaugh… Oh I meant to say!” Fin exclaimed.
A pack of ravenous, shrieking slaugh interrupted us. More than fifteen foot soldiers and three or four of the flying type. A few less corrupted slaugh looked to be recent additions to the host, fallen champions by my guess. All of the wraiths were fully formed, not the half-baked kind I’d chanced upon so far.
Fin rolled his shoulders, calm in spite of the oncoming horde. “Can I interest you in a temporary truce?”
Bell flew between the two of us. “Wait, no! Grr,” she growled at Fin.
I hadn’t sensed any bad intentions from the big guy when we met, and I didn’t sense any now, either.
I nodded. “That’s a great idea.”
“Why don’t you listen to me! Stupid Kal!” Bell stomped her foot and started pulling at my hair.
“A truce to last us until we’re beyond the Twilit Boundary, then,” Fin mapped out the details of our agreement.
“Agreed. Truce.”
We shook on it.
“Okay then,” Fin turned to confront the slaugh.
Fin knocked his fists together and roared a challenge to the incoming wraiths. How he planned on dealing with the apparitions with just his fists, I didn’t know, and didn’t care.
“Bell!”
“Fine, but you so, so owe me for this!”
Bell flew out to pull off as many from the pack as she could in a bid to reduce the host’s numbers. She peeled off four of the foot soldiers with her antics, making our job that much easier.
I retained something of the mana skin I’d generated, but it was thin. With a sinking feeling in my gut, I let my path of thorns fall to the ground and stepped up beside Fin. Slick with my purplish-black blood and sporting a small halo of mana around it, I hoped my knotted ashwood staff would outlast the engagement.
I stirred up my mana reserves and drew them to the surface. Bell’s sigil began to emit silver light.
“I’ll break their charge. If you want to follow in behind me to dispatch—”
Before Fin finished speaking, I told him, “I’ve got it.”
Fin grunted. Macool’s natural stone jewelry began to glow crimson as violent mana swirled around the ogreish man.
With a battle cry, Fin charged the wave of slaugh without anything besides his bare hands. He crashed against the host with more momentum and force than the charging wraiths. Like a stone unmoved by a river’s current, the slaugh scattered in a “V” shape around his unyielding form.
Bits of black miasma and corroded spirit flew apart then disintegrated from the collision.
I fell in behind him, smashing my staff across heads and necks, chests and kneecaps as apparitions poured past. It was frighteningly easy to fight behind Fin. The big guy struck out at the slaugh with his jewel-encrusted fists, leaving gaping holes in a spirit with every punch.
The second rank of foot soldiers flowed around Fin to regain their equilibrium. The knot in my gut hardened. We were surrounded. I knocked aside the shaft of a pitted spear and batted away a sword before following up with my own strikes. My staff sent the slaugh reeling, shrieking in pained rage as their spectral wounds leaked black miasma.
The sea of fog boiled beneath our feet. It shot back up to my midsection with the seemingly conscious thought of aiding the slaugh in our midst. As I watched wounded slaugh devoured bits of the fog to regain some semblance of their original forms.
Fin growled. “I couldn’t be sure before, but now I’ve seen it. No wonder I’ve had such poor luck in my fights against them. They seem to regenerate faster than I can break them apart.”
“You’ve been—” I slipped to one side of a rapier’s thrust, “fighting these things—” I brought my staff over the head of the overextended wraith’s head, “this whole time?!”
“That’s right, for all it was worth.”
What kind of monster is this guy?
Burning with excess mana, I funneled power through Bell’s sigil. Gale force winds streamed out from me in all directions, revealing my path of thorns and stemming the healing factor it gave our enemies.
Fin grinned wide, almost feral. “Brilliant.”
We were still quite outnumbered, but that didn’t seem to faze Fin. He knocked his fists together and threw himself into the fight with renewed vigor. Dispersing apparitions with each mighty blow, he looked like a carnal war god in his element. I was stunned by the sight.
He could knock my head clean off my shoulders with a single blow.
I gripped my staff hard and shook myself alert. Flying slaugh dove in formation to attack me. Together they presented a collection of bristling weapons that, given half a chance, they would skewer me with. I rolled under their first pass, but two swords sliced into my back. The flying wraiths were already coming around for a second pass, black miasma trailing in their wake.
I got back to my feet with a grimace, setting my feet to hold my ground. Like taking in a deep lungful of air and holding it, I grabbed up all the mana I could get my hands on and stained it silver with wind mana. I could feel the edges of my control slip
ping as I brought the power around to bear on the slaugh. My feet slipped and I wavered as I funneled the mass of energy through my body and into my staff as I met the slaugh with a wide, sweeping blow of my own.
A violent scythe of wind sliced clean through the four flying apparitions in a diagonal fashion, rending the slaugh in two. I grinned. The slaugh gushed black miasma and disintegrated as their spectral forms lost cohesion. Finally, they dispersed.
When I looked over, Fin had already dispatched the remainder of the foot soldiers. His body shimmered with steam and violent crimson mana. I spotted some superficial wounds covering his chest and back, but he looked no worse for wear because of them.
“I’m exhausted! That was more work than it was worth,” Bell complained.
“A fine showing. Now, did I hear you right in saying you know a way out of this wretched place?” Fin spat as the fog began to boil upwards once more.
“Yep, you heard right.”
Panicked, I cast about with my eyes until I caught a glimpse of my path of thorns being overrun by the rising mist. I ran in that direction for all I was worth until I tripped right over the top of it. I had to catch myself on hands and knees, dig through the fog like a loon, and then raise the vine into view for Fin to see.
I tried to sound confident when I said, “This path will lead us out of here.”
Fin hurried over to my side as the sea of fog crashed back in all around us. He clasped a fist over his heart. “I’m indebted to you. Had fate not brought us together again, I might have wandered the Boundary forever.”
“You’re indebted to me, you big oaf— the both of you are!” Bell corrected, sticking a thumb in her chest. “Me! I’m the one who told Kal about the way, and helped distract those dumb beasties!”
“Right, it was all you. You’re right Bell.”
Fin bowed his head. “Certainly that is the case, honorable sylph. I didn’t intend to offend you.”
Bell swapped out her angry glare for a pleased grin. “This one knows how to speak to a lady! I like him!” Bell glowed with satisfaction.
