Chapter 23

Morning offered a false brightness.

A sunrise that would have been beautiful if they hadn't just watched a creature from myth murder one of their friends the day before. Ren tried her best to remain focused on surviving.

"That bridge spell cost forty-five ockleys," Ren announced. "I'm down to three-hundred and five. Approximately."

She couldn't help adding that last word. Even out here she felt the need to give the most correct answer—as if this were a test and the others were grading her responses. It was true, though. No wizard could perfectly track their magical usage. Not even Ren. She always kept count. Force of habit for someone with such a limited supply. But a professor had demonstrated the limitations of their system in class. Four students with an equal supply of magic were tasked with casting the same sequence of spells. They all ran out at different points on the list. It was proof that even the slightest details—a person's stance or focus or rhythm—could cause more or less magic to burn. Even so, Ren knew their group needed to keep the general range of their supply in mind.

Cora held up two rabbits she'd strung together. "My traps brought me down to two thirty."

"I'm somewhere around one ninety," Timmons said. "We can blame my bad choice in footwear."

"I've already used two hundred or so." Theo's tone made it clear that he wanted recognition for the sacrifice he'd made thus far. No one offered him more than a nod, though. "Mostly for the camp protections each night."

"And now we're without Avy's supply," Ren added. "Which means we're right around eighteen hundred. We're going to be using warming spells from here on out, I think. Alford's conversion is the easiest. The colder it gets, the warmer we'll feel. Everyone know that one?"

Theo and Cora nodded, but Timmons shook her head.

"Never stored it."

"I can cast it on you," Theo offered. "Don't I just use an extension charm?"

This was directed to Ren. Again she noted his casual reliance on her knowledge. The bridge incident was likely to live on in his memory for different reasons than she'd anticipated, but he hadn't forgotten the cleverness of her magic, in spite of what had happened. Ren nodded in return.

"Just don't forget to set a clear radius limitation, or you'll end up trying to warm the entire forest. It'll kill the spell's longevity."

In rare cases that mistake also killed the caster of the spell. The most famous example was a wizard named Henri Carver. He mishandled a warming spell in the middle of winter that resulted in the hottest day in Kathor's recorded history. Everyone enjoyed the unexpected weather except for Carver, who was found melted into the stones of his own apothecary shop.

Their version of the spell would last for a few hours. They'd refresh it at least three times a day. About ten ockleys per person, per hike. At least losing Avy hadn't meant losing much magic. It was a dark thought, and Ren felt awful for quantifying him that way. But he was the one who'd said that survival was the motto of the day.

"What do you think about strength spells?" she asked. "Today will be mostly uphill."

"Let's wait until it hurts," Theo replied. "Until we feel like we can't keep going."

They didn't have to wait long. Ren's calves were throbbing halfway through the morning hike. Avy's absence was proving to have a mental cost too. No one aimed them like an arrow at their target. No one drove them on with encouraging words. Ren tried at first but quickly ran out of lung capacity. It was difficult enough to keep walking and breathing.

Their warming spells performed admirably, not waning until lunch. Everyone made an effort to forage. Timmons returned with berries that no one could identify. Cora had managed to find a handful of rootstalks. She passed them out, and everyone chewed as they trudged on.

"Getting more nutrients stuck in my teeth than in my stomach," Timmons complained.

The elevation did provide some small sense of safety. The paths were tightening and the trees grew sparse. Great rocks punched out of the earth, providing footing and leverage. Down in the valley there had been shadows and places to hide. It had felt like Clyde—or another predator—might attack from any direction at any time. Up here there were only a few paths by which they could be pursued. If Clyde came, they'd see him well before he arrived.

Camp that night required a bit more searching for firewood. They built the fire higher than normal so that Cora could roast the rabbits. She set a few more traps, then carved up both animals. Everyone looked spent, and tomorrow would only require more from them. After rations were passed around and the night's watch settled, Ren fell into an exhausted and fitful sleep.

She maneuvered through a small market in the Merchant Quarter. She had her father's lunch, a tavana roll with cream, wrapped in delicately thin paper and tucked under one arm. Her mother had started trusting her with small tasks like this. It gave Ren a chance to see more of the city. The delight of it was twofold. First, it felt rather adult to walk all on her own, with no one to watch or check on her. She felt she could have walked wherever she wanted. But there was also unexpected joy in completing a task. She loved trying to find the fastest route to wherever her father happened to be working.…

But the dream lurched forward. Past the normal moments. Past the point where the bridge collapsed. It was guided on by an unseen hand. Ren felt like a passenger in her own memory. Light and color swirled, and then she was standing at the railing. The crowd was parting to allow someone through.

Landwin Brood.

Hatred stirred in the depths of Ren's heart. The feeling didn't belong in the actual memory. At nine years old, Ren hadn't knownthe truth that day. When Landwin Brood had come forward, she'd thought of him as a rescuer. Everyone else in the crowd had been so painfully still and quiet. All of them had looked down, their mouths covered to hide their horror. She'd never understood. Why didn't any of them help her father?

But Landwin had taken action. She heard him shout, a gilded echo in her memory.

"Medics! Get a medical team down there!"

It was easy to hear the truth in his voice now. The playacted concern written into the lines of his face. The way it touched everything but his eyes. Ren watched in the memory and hated him even more, because she saw the way he searched the canal below. It was like watching a murderer who'd returned to witness the final breath.

Those feelings of hatred consumed her.

And that was when she felt the claws—razor sharp—sink into her shoulder. Something latched on to her with unexpected strength. The grip was so tight that she couldn't turn. All she could see in her periphery was shadow.

"I am hungry," it breathed. "You are food."

Timmons's hand was on Ren's shoulder. Her grip merged in Ren's mind with the claws in the dream. Ren shook herself free, almost violently. It was dark enough that Timmons didn't notice.

"Sorry to wake you, but you were snoring like a goat. Good night."

Ren's mouth had gone dry. A glance showed Theo was on watch. Ren could feel that spot in the back of her mind, frayed and raw. She'd mistaken the feeling of disorder the other night for an absence. Now she understood. It was a presence. She'd had the same dream two nights in a row. Both times she'd encountered something that didn't belong in the memory. Both times she'd been forced back to that specific place and memory.

She lay there in silence, staring up at the stars, her mind racing. She tossed restlessly until it was her turn to take the final watch. And it was in the bare-bones light of the morning that she figured it out. She resisted waking the others. When they finally stirred, she wasn't sure what the polite amount of time was to wait before launching questions at them. She waited about thirty seconds.

"Dreams," she said. "Who had dreams?"

Timmons rubbed her face. "Everyone. Literally everyone has dreams, Ren."

"Sorry. Nightmares. Who has had the exact same nightmare the last two nights?"

The others exchanged uncomfortable glances.

"So… that means everyone?"

There were nods all around. Her guess was looking solid.

"And it's not just any nightmare, correct? It's one of your worst memories."

Before it had been uncomfortable. Now the others looked suspicious.

"How could you know that?" Theo asked.

"Because I had a dream of the day my father died. Twice now. And both times the dream was… wrong. Something was off about it. There's a shadow there. In the real memory I was alone that day. Sitting on a bench. My father… he was…" She couldn't help glancing at Theo. His face was so similar to the one she'd seen pretending to help her in that memory. "It was an accident. No one else was standing with me. I'd gone alone. But in both of the dreams I've had out here, someone's hand is on my shoulder. They… move me around in the memory. It's like they want me to get closer to the accident. They want me to really see the moment he died again.…"

As Ren trailed off, she realized her hands were shaking. It felt like she was completely alone—maybe even losing her mind—until Cora spoke up.

"My memory was altered too. It's exactly how you described. There's someone lurking in the shadows."

"You're sure?" Ren asked.

"Yes, because I was alone when my memory happened too. There was no one else. Everyone had left for the day. They'd left me behind and there was no one to help me. But it's like you said. These last two nights someone's with me in the dream. Damn. That's terrifying."

Ren's eyes swung to Timmons. Her friend nodded.

"I didn't notice. I'm sorry. It's a horrible memory. I hate everything about it. So I wasn't, like, trying to look for the details or anything. I'll pay attention. If it happens again."

Theo shook his head. "I had the nightmares, but nothing like that. There wasn't anything strange about it at all. It was just a memory."

"Of what?" Ren asked without thinking.

That earned her sideways glances from the rest of the group. Theo lifted his chin ever so slightly before answering. "I must have missed the part where everyone else talked about what happened in their worst, most personal memories. Would you like to go first?"

She considered sniping back at him but realized from the look that Timmons was giving that she'd gone too far already. "I'm sorry. You're right. Let's talk about what matters. Cora: This has to be Clyde, right?"

Cora nodded. "The timing aligns with his attack the other day. It also links to another mythological understanding of revenants. I've read that they feed off fear. I didn't mention it the other day because…" She shrugged. "You were all so panicked already. But that's one of the basic tenets from all the old stories. They enjoy fear, guilt, pain. It tastes good to them. Which means it would make sense that Clyde wants our minds preoccupied with nightmares."

Now Theo objected. "Actually, none of that makes sense. Your theory is that he's forcing us to dream something? I mean… he'd have to be outside camp each night, hitting us each with individual spells. Why not just attack us if that was the case? What you're describing is a passive, ongoing spell. Magic that doesn't even require proximity to maintain? That's nearly impossible. Not to mention, the mind is guarded by some really strong, innate magic. It isn't easy to force your will on someone else. There are trained manipulators who spend years trying to plant a single thought in someone's mind. I don't see how Clyde could tamper with our dreams. Let alone be in the dreams."

Cora had an answer ready. "Think about Clyde's genesis. The moment of creation is very significant for a revenant. All of us were present when he was born. Inside the waxways."

That was a detail Ren hadn't considered. A monster born in an instable environment, surrounded by untapped power. It had been easy to dismiss him as a creature of baser instincts. Terrifying, of course, but one that could be beaten if they'd simply been prepared the first time around. Maybe she'd been underestimating him. And that was always a dangerous thing to do.

"… the waxway passages are a tool that our people use but don't fully understand," Cora was saying. "It's like a hammer that decides it wants to hit back sometimes. I find it very likely that our minds were particularly vulnerable. Drawn in by the maelstrom of power that was devouring Clyde. It's quite possible that we are linked to him. Beyond the fact that we're his prey."

"Which is my next point," Ren said, trying not to sound too excited. "I know what happened to Avy. I figured out how Clyde's magic works."

Theo almost rolled his eyes. "There's no way you could know that."

"It's a reversal of the theory of functional opposition."

Ren found it rather pleasing to watch Theo open his mouth, an objection on his tongue, only to snap it shut again when he realized how far out of his depth he really was. Cora nodded slowly. Timmons made the gesture she always made when Ren baited information. A little wave of the hand that meant, out with the rest of it.

"The theory states that mind-based spells can limit, if not completely halt, the functionality of the physical body. Manipulators are a great example. They're completely motionless while casting. We had one visit as a guest speaker for our Logistical Physics class; it's really creepy. They don't move, they don't breathe, they don't blink. Because the entirety of the mind is engaged in the spell."

Timmons sighed. "Is this the part where I ask you what it all means?"

"Yes, please."

Another sigh. "What does it all mean?"

"It means that Clyde reversed that process. He pulled Avy into his worst memory. It's clever magic, really. If Avy was fully there, he couldn't be here. His mind was so engaged by the dream that his physical body was left completely incapacitated. Which explains why he didn't resist. He didn't fight back, because his mind was elsewhere."

Theo nodded. "I guess that makes sense."

Ren considered kicking him in the shin again. "Yeah, I know it makes sense. Seriously? I don't need you to tell me that it makes sense."

Timmons smacked Ren's arm. "Calm down, textbook. None of us have coffee or tea out here. It's still a little early for magical theory. How about we eat? And then you can tell us how we beat… a reverse version…"

"… of functional opposition theory," Ren finished. "And you're right. Sorry. I was just excited that I figured it out. There are a few wards that should work if we encounter him again. Maybe focal point shields? Or a layered retreating ward? That's probably our best bet. I've got a few ideas, but let's eat first. Today's hike might be a little harder than yesterday's."

She eyed the distant hills, hoping she was wrong.