2. Hunted

two

Adrian peered at the dark line of trees, his muscles tensed. What in the name of the spirits just happened? Shadowlash had wrecked Trailseeker, leaving Adrian at its mercy…only to abruptly turn tail and flee. It didn't make any spirit-cursed sense.

Shoving aside his confusion, he rushed across the meadow to Trailseeker's side. Though the daemon remained as stoic as ever, Adrian sensed its thinned aether through their bond. Closing his eyes, he rested a hand on Trailseeker's strangely slick back, allowing his aether to trickle out.

While daemons could channel their aether into incredible techniques, daemon masters primarily used their aether for support, whether to provide their daemon with a temporary boost or to restore a crippling wound. When his arm began to sag and his eyes droop, Adrian cut off the flow of energy. After what he'd already spent on his own wounded arm, he didn't have enough left in his reserve to fully heal Trailseeker as well.

He gave Trailseeker's head a furtive stroke. "Sorry, buddy. You deserve a better master."

Most daemon masters probably would've been disgusted by such a display of affection for a species that had slaughtered countless thousands over the centuries. Despite everything, however, Adrian couldn't help but harbor a certain fondness for his daemon. It might be a merciless killing machine, but it was his merciless killing machine. And that seemed like it ought to count for something.

He focused on his link with Trailseeker and recalled the daemon so it could finish recovering within him. Gradually, Trailseeker's corporeal form dissolved into a cloud of pure aether. The blue energy flowed into Adrian, sinking into his flesh and settling alongside his own reserve.

Trailseeker seen to, he crested the hill and strode toward Crastley's cottage. He might be obligated to report a daemon like Shadowlash to the Watcher Division, but he'd search the place first so that no one—especially not Seymour—could claim he'd shirked his duty.

Crastley's cabin appeared in much better repair than the bridge. The wooden slabs forming its fa?ade were worn yet sturdy, with a single door facing the river. Something about the building seemed off, however, and it took him a moment to identify what. No windows. He'd have thought the view of rolling hills and blooming meadows the primary draw of living out here.

His frown deepened when he discovered the front door ajar. Watcher Seymour had said watchers had already been out here to take care of Crastley's corpse. They must not have bothered locking up again when they'd finished. Typical.

The door opened onto a single cramped room. Bright light streamed in from outside, highlighting a small stove and table near the front and a bed in the back. Overflowing bookshelves crowded the rest of the space.

Idly browsing the titles, Adrian spotted a plethora of history books on everything from the Daemon Wars and Serenity Corp's fortuitous discovery of bondstones to the League's initial formation out of the shattered remnants of civilization across the Tranquil Peninsula and the monumental effort to construct the Bulwark along the League's exposed eastern border.

Mixed in with those tomes were treatises on daemons. He stopped to examine one that lay open on the table. Crastley had scribbled so heavily over the pages, it was difficult to make out the original text. Notes filled the margins, and many sections had been circled or crossed out.

He flipped to a random page.

The inherent unpredictability of daemonic mutations consistently frustrates the Keeper Division during breeding efforts. Where one daemon sprouts wings, another born under identical conditions might possess three heads—or no heads at all!Many blame the chaotic nature of daemons and the savageness of their wild aether, cultivating multiple daemons with the expectation of culling those with undesirable traits or techniques.

Crastley had drawn a large X through the entire passage and written a single word in the margin beside it: Wrong. Similar comments were sprinkled throughout the rest of the book.

Adrian paused on another section, this one circled several times.

Since most daemons possess unaspected aether, they respond similarly to external aether regardless of its elemental affinity. However, the occasional daemon may demonstrate a heightened reaction. Seeker Bradigan posited this the result of aetheric resonance—the closer the alignment between the aether and the daemon's aetheric composition, the more favorable the response. For example, a daemon closely attuned to fire might react negatively when exposed to aqueous aether since it resonates at a diametrically opposed frequency.

Little of it made sense to Adrian. He knew the basics taught to all fledgling daemon masters, but he was far from a seeker. He started to read another lengthy passage when something tickled the edge of his awareness—a strong source of aether beyond the cabin, near the absolute limit of his aethersense's range. As soon as he tried to focus on the aura, however, it vanished.

A shiver of unease raced down his spine. It could've been a fluke. Auras constantly fluctuated based on the hidden rhythms of the world. He'd been fooled before by a rock or tree with unusually dense aether that briefly pinged as worthy of interest. Still, his mind turned at once to Shadowlash. The daemon had fled without warning—it might just as easily return.

Resummoning a mostly recovered Trailseeker brought him a small measure of comfort. The daemon obediently lifted its snout, flaring aether to enhance its senses with Bolster Body.

Nothing.

He commanded Trailseeker to remain vigilant while he checked behind the bookshelves and under the chairs, scanning for hidden daemons or anything else out of the ordinary. It didn't take long to complete a circuit of the small space. By the end, all he'd learned was that Crastley was a reclusive man who enjoyed defacing scholarly works.

As he was turning toward the door to depart, something on the floor caught his eye. Frowning, he kneeled before a bookshelf. Scratches marred the paneling there, the wood considerably more worn than the planks around it. Unsure what instructions to give Trailseeker—search for anything interesting seemed far too vague—he closed his eyes and reached out via their bond.

The world around him faded as his consciousness melded with his daemon's. A few seconds later, he blinked. His vision had taken on a faint blue tinge, his senses sharpened as he studied the ground through Trailseeker's eyes. With his aether-enhanced sight, it only took a moment to spot a small patch of discolored wood cleverly concealed in the bookshelf's base.

He released his meld with Trailseeker and flowed back into his own body. After a brief hesitation, he bent and touched the patch. It pressed inward with a click. A section of floor slid aside, revealing a wooden staircase descending into darkness.

Adrian's pulse quickened as he studied the opening. What do we have here? Stretching out his aethersense, he scanned the blackness below and came up blank. Hopefully, that meant nothing waited down there to murder him.

He snagged a candle and pack of matches from a nearby shelf, probably left there for exactly this purpose. When he turned back to the hidden staircase with a lit candle, his gaze caught on the cabin's open door.

Better safe than sorry.

Latching the door shut, he took a steadying breath before descending the stairs with Trailseeker in the lead. A grinding sound echoed behind him, and he whirled to find the trapdoor resealing itself via some hidden mechanism. Before panic could properly take hold, he spied another switch on this side to unlock it. Guess we continue then.

The staircase gradually opened into a stone chamber far larger than the cabin above. Most of it remained shrouded in darkness, his flickering candle revealing only a few paces around him.

A small knob protruded from the wall at the base of the stairs. Curiosity overruling caution, he twisted it. With a faint hiss of gas, lanterns burst to life across the cavern, illuminating what looked like a laboratory. Overturned tables, broken instruments, and scattered papers littered the ground, either carelessly discarded or intentionally smashed to pieces.

Adrian gaped at the wreckage. Had the Watcher Division done this? They were certainly capable of such wanton destruction if it suited them. Yet, what possible motive could they have? Even Watcher Seymour wouldn't be so careless during a routine assignment.

More likely, the watchers hadn't discovered this place at all. But if they weren't responsible…then who or what was?

He stooped and retrieved a torn scrap of paper. Indecipherable glyphs surrounded a partially sketched daemon. Like the notes and books upstairs, it meant nothing to him. His aether, however, thrummed as if in primal recognition of the symbols.

"What were you up to down here?" he muttered.

Trailseeker suddenly tensed, its snout jerking toward the stone ceiling. Frowning, Adrian dropped the paper and closed his eyes, melding again with his daemon's mind. It didn't take him long to comprehend what Trailseeker sensed, fresh fear jolting him.

Shadowlash had returned. Spirits knew why the daemon had spared them only to reappear now. Somehow, however, he doubted it would be so merciful a second time.

Releasing his meld, he glanced at Trailseeker. He could try the same diversionary maneuver as before. If his daemon invested its entire reserve into a Bolster Body, perhaps it could hold Shadowlash's attention long enough for him to slip past. But then what? He'd never be able to outrun it.

He raked his eyes over the laboratory. Plenty of enigmatic devices lay scattered across the floor, but none struck him as a viable weapon. Not that he'd know what to do with one anyway. Few daemon masters outside the Watcher Division bothered with personal combat training when they had bonded daemons to fight in their stead.

The bondstones rattling around in his pack were equally useless. He'd never be able to activate one in a daemon as powerful as Shadowlash without subduing it first…which brought him full circle to the impossibility of winning such a fight.

Wood creaked ominously from the top of the stairs, and the trapdoor rattled. Spirits below, the feral daemon had found them!

His heart pounding a hole in his chest, he scoured the laboratory for another way out. If Crastley had been insane enough to build this underground chamber, perhaps he'd also been paranoid enough to devise an emergency escape route. When Adrian found only blank walls, he switched to his aethersense and commanded Trailseeker to perform its own survey in tandem.

This is hopeless. I'm going to die down here, the failure everyone always expected me to—

His racing mind jerked to a halt as his gaze locked on a nearby section of wall. The stone there stood completely blank. Not just to his regular sight—though it was unadorned rock—but to his aethersense as well. That…that shouldn't be possible. Even inanimate objects always contained trace amounts of aether.

The distinction was subtle, easy to miss against the rest of the stone. If he hadn't spent years honing his aethersense to make up for his other aetheric shortcomings, he probably wouldn't have noticed. Yet, now that he had, he could discern a square area about an arm's width across devoid of any aether.

A loud bang reverberated from the trapdoor above. Adrian tensed, but when he glanced up, he saw that the wood had merely buckled a bit inward. Thank the spirits Crastley had invested in quality workmanship. Still, considering how thoroughly Shadowlash had pummeled Trailseeker, it wouldn't take too many more blows to bash through.

Melding again with Trailseeker, he instructed the daemon to sweep the blank section with its keener eyes using Bolster Body. It only took him a few seconds to find what he was looking for: another recessed button hid in the wall, visible by a slight change in coloration. Releasing his meld, he pressed the button. A latch clicked free, revealing a tiny alcove.

Two things instantly caught his attention when he peered inside. The first was a battered journal tossed at the front. Though he spied no markings on its binding, it appeared well-used.

The second was a daemon crouched against the far wall. The creature's blazing azure eyes met his, and he stumbled a step back, raising his hands to fend off its pounce.

The expected attack never came.

Slowly, he lowered his fingers to study the daemon. It was smaller than Trailseeker—not much larger than a house cat. It resembled a cat as well, though with smooth cerulean skin and an entirely too-long tail with a barbed tip.

As he regarded the daemon, he realized three glowing eyes stared back at him—two in the usual spots and a third set into its forehead. Jutting fangs curved over its lips, and he shuddered at the mental image of them rending into his flesh.

Another crash resounded from the stairs, but he ignored it. Instead, he focused his aethersense on the newly revealed daemon. To his relief, this one felt about the same strength as Trailseeker, so if worst came to worst, his daemon might actually be able to protect him. Its name came to him on the flows of aether: Heartrender.

Heartrender continued to appraise him. His skin prickled under its too-clever gaze. While the creature's macabre name and tensed posture gave him pause, it didn't appear aggressive. Its presence down here suggested it had belonged to Crastley…but then, why didn't it seem bondsick after his death? And why had it been confined within this small compartment?

None of this added up, and his brain was too frazzled to sort through the mystery. As if to punctuate the thought, wood cracked and groaned. He glanced at the stairwell, swallowing when he caught a flash of blue through the shattered planks. One more good hit should do it.

His eyes flicked back to Heartrender. Now that the compartment was open, he had no trouble detecting the daemon with his aethersense. With the door closed, however, it had been as invisible as the rest of that area despite its apparent lack of a shroud. And if the space could hide one daemon, then maybe…

Knowing he had only seconds left, he tucked the journal in his satchel and concentrated on his bond with Trailseeker. This wasn't a simple linking of their minds like before. Instead, he drew upon his reserve of aether and focused his entire being down into that singular stream connecting them together.

In a flash of blue light, his physical form dissolved. For an instant, his consciousness was simultaneously nowhere and everywhere—part of the Great Aetheric Sea beyond the bounds of creation. Then, he resided within Trailseeker, not just peering through its eyes but fully inhabiting its body. His own body, he knew, had temporarily melted away, subsumed by the aether he'd sent flowing into Trailseeker in much the same way Trailseeker melded with him.

Unlike daemons, however, humans couldn't sustain such an unnatural state for long. His mind was already beginning to buckle beneath the immense strain it required, and the thought of controlling Trailseeker like a lifeless puppet made him squirm with still more discomfort. On the plus side, this kind of total meld quickened his orders and protected his body so long as his daemon didn't perish. Today, it also had the added perk of reducing the amount of space needed to contain them both.

Before he could talk himself out of what was probably a terrible idea, he had Trailseeker leap into the alcove and wedge itself into the space. It was a tight fit, especially with Heartrender occupying the back half of the cubbyhole, but they managed.

Scrabbling at the door with Trailseeker's snout and paws, Adrian managed to swing it most of the way shut. He didn't dare latch the door completely in case it couldn't be opened from the inside. It wouldn't do them any good to hide from Shadowlash, only to lock themselves in here.

The trapdoor outside exploded inward. Huddled within Trailseeker, Adrian listened to the splintered planks clattering down the stairs, followed by the soft patter of paws on stone. When the footsteps paused a few paces outside the compartment, Adrian tensed, relaxing only once the daemon continued past.

Now what?

His impromptu plan had bought a brief reprieve, but his concentration already wavered, and he really didn't want to see what happened when his body rematerialized in this tiny stone box. No, better to make a break for it while Shadowlash remained focused on its search. Maybe by the time it realized its prey had fled, they'd be halfway back to Hillvale and relative safety.

Nerves on edge, Adrian nudged the door with Trailseeker's head. It swung slowly open far enough for him to peek out. As he'd hoped, Shadowlash prowled along the lab's far edge, weaving around tables in a methodical sweep. The daemon's behavior once again struck him as strange. But if it kept the creature distracted, who was he to complain?

Trailseeker slipped out of the compartment at his command and padded softly toward the stairs. Thankfully, the gas lamps left the cavernous space brightly lit enough that the faint glow of Trailseeker's aether-infused skin didn't instantly draw Shadowlash's attention from across the room. Still, Adrian didn't dare move too quickly as he navigated the minefield of detritus strewn across the floor. A single sound might well be enough to give them away.

With every step they took, he expected to hear a furious howl of pursuit—to feel those shadowy tentacles slamming into his daemon's flesh. All it would take was Shadowlash glancing over at the wrong time or extending its aethersense far enough to detect them. He could only pray that the daemon kept its search confined to its immediate vicinity.

When they reached the stairs, Adrian allowed himself a flicker of hope. Thanking the spirits for Trailseeker's nimbleness, he carefully navigated around the trapdoor's broken remnants. Shadowlash still hadn't noticed them, and the opening to the cabin loomed overhead.

Maybe they'd survive this after all.

A loud clattering echoed behind them. Adrian jerked Trailseeker's head around to find Heartrender frozen guiltily on the stairwell several steps back. The smaller daemon must have followed them out of the alcove. Below, a section of fallen plank trembled and stilled on the stone floor near the base of the stairs.

For a long moment, time seemed to slow. Then, a deafening howl resounded from the chamber's far end. Abandoning all pretense of stealth, Adrian commanded Trailseeker up the remaining stairs. Heartrender trailed close behind. As Trailseeker vaulted over the ruined hatch into Crastley's cabin, Adrian's gaze caught on the nearby bookshelf, and he hurled his daemon against it. The stacked books teetered.

Below, paws pounded on wood. Shadowlash had reached the stairs.

With a desperate surge of aether-enhanced strength, Adrian ordered Trailseeker to leap up, clamp its jaws around the upper edge of the bookshelf, and pull. Already off balance, the bookcase toppled across the opening. Hopefully, that would buy them precious seconds.

He turned Trailseeker's body and dashed for what remained of the front door. A flash of movement by his side made him jerk reflexively, but it was only Heartrender keeping pace. The cat-like daemon gave him what he swore was an apologetic look. He cast the creature out of his mind. So long as it didn't attack, he had bigger problems to contend with.

Weaving Trailseeker past piles of books, he barreled into the meadow beyond. The previously serene vista now seemed vaguely sinister, its dappled sunlight and fragrant flowers unnervingly incongruous with his mad dash for safety.

His aether trembled, his vision wavering as he almost lost control of his meld. With a colossal effort of will, he wrenched his mind back into focus. He couldn't maintain this state much longer, but he'd hold it as long as he could to take advantage of his daemon's speed.

At his urging, Trailseeker poured aether into a Bolster Body to enhance its legs until they bounded down the hill in a blur. Adrian's aethersense suddenly bloomed behind him as Shadowlash unveiled its full aura. He didn't need to look back to feel the powerful daemon gaining on him with every step, its aether almost blinding against the duller sources nearby.

They reached the derelict bridge. This time, Adrian didn't hesitate to drive Trailseeker across while weaving around the collapsed section. In retrospect, he should've used a full meld the first time, but the thought hadn't occurred to him since he so rarely utilized the strenuous ability.

Right as Trailseeker reached the other side of the still-raging river, the last of Adrian's mental control slipped. He materialized beside his daemon and tumbled roughly through the grass. Trailseeker skidded to a halt as Adrian took a second to catch his breath, wincing at the pain that lanced through his skull. He hadn't pushed himself this hard in years—not since the early days of his training when he'd still held out hope of overcoming his flawed aether.

Somewhere between the cabin and the bridge, Heartrender had vanished. Perhaps the smaller daemon had seized the opportunity to escape. So long as it didn't also try to take a bite out of him, Adrian supposed it didn't matter. Shadowlash, though…

The fearsome daemon bounded toward the bridge. Darkness enveloped its azure form while black tentacles lashed the air. The oppressive weight of its aura was almost suffocating.

Trailseeker, attack!

Registering his mental command, his daemon dashed across the bridge to meet Shadowlash head on. Legs still enhanced for speed via Bolster Body, Trailseeker nimbly evaded a barrage of crushing tentacles. Adrian had his daemon lunge at one, but its bite phased harmlessly through.

Spirits below, the aetheric finesse required to make its limbs corporeal one moment and incorporeal the next... Coupled with the darkness cloaking its flesh, it made Shadowlash nigh invincible against Trailseeker's physical attacks. All his daemon could do was keep dodging.

Adrian considered running, but what would be the point? He wouldn't make it far on foot with how worn out that last meld had left him. Instead, he moved to one of the wooden posts securing the bridge on this side of the river. If he could knock it loose, maybe he could delay Shadowlash long enough to return to town and rally the Watcher Division. Placing both hands against it, he heaved with all the strength he could muster.

The bridge barely even shook. He fought down a manic laugh. It figured—now that he wanted the spirit-cursed thing to collapse, it was as sturdy as a rock.

He shoved again and again, drawing on the dregs of his pitiful aether to strengthen his flesh in a lesser version of what Trailseeker could accomplish with its technique. When that failed, he growled in frustration and stomped on the nearest planks. His only reward was a loud creak and an aching foot.

Spirits curse my stunted aether!

He brought his leg back for another stubborn kick. That's when he noticed the small daemon crouched by his feet. He stumbled in surprise, barely catching himself on the wooden post. Heartrender studied him, and he was struck again by the sharp intelligence in its three-eyed gaze.

"You know," he grunted, "you could help. That beast will come for you once it's done with me."

He'd grown used to talking to Trailseeker's empty stare and hadn't expected a response. To his shock, Heartrender gave a high-pitched trill that might have signified agreement. Then, it turned and vanished into the high grass.

He stared after the daemon, confusion warring with disappointment. "Thanks for all your hard work," he grumbled.

Before he could resume his futile assault on the bridge, roiling aether poured into him. His breath caught. Trailseeker had done its best, but it had fallen before Shadowlash's assault, its body dissolving into aether. Until it recovered enough to reconstitute itself, he was on his own.

Shadowlash stalked to the far end of the bridge. Adrian resisted the impulse to cower before its terrifying aura. He might never be the heroes his parents had been, but he could at least face his death with the same courage they had.

The enemy daemon stepped onto the creaking planks and paused, letting out a low growl. It took Adrian a moment to spot the source of its consternation. Heartrender crouched silently in the middle of the bridge, its barbed tail flicking.

Spirits above, what is it doing?

Watching the way Shadowlash appraised Heartrender, Adrian suddenly realized why the daemon's actions seemed so off. There was something too deliberate about its movements—too human. No matter how implausible, he felt certain that a daemon master held its leash.

Unease rippled through him at the implications. That meant Shadowlash's master was either melded within it or else lurked close enough to monitor the action through their daemon's eyes. Either way, they were coldly contemplating Adrian's murder at this very moment.

Without warning, Shadowlash lunged. Two dark tentacles swept the air ahead of it, crashing into Heartrender and…passing straight through to pummel the bridge with a mighty crack. Heartrender flickered like a disturbed reflection in water.

An illusion.

Adrian released a pent-up breath. Heartrender's technique must allow it to shape projections out of aether. That explained its apparent willingness to sacrifice itself. He admired the deception, even if he didn't see the point. The trick had slowed Shadowlash, but not for long. Already, it had resumed its march across the bridge. Except…

Boards groaned and snapped, the entire bridge shuddering as it buckled in the middle. Adrian's eyes widened. Shadowlash's tentacles had accomplished what he himself could not.

With an echoing crash, the bridge collapsed—not just a single section of planks this time but the entire shoddy structure. Debris ricocheted through Shadowlash's insubstantial form, but that wasn't the real danger. As the bridge plummeted into the water, the daemon fell with it in a spray of splintered wood. It hit the rapids, the current sweeping it under and dragging it away.

Adrian wasn't sure how long he stood there staring before his brain finally caught up, his tensed muscles easing. His relief, however, proved fleeting. A surging river wouldn't be enough to kill a daemon that powerful. Even if it somehow did, Shadowlash would simply return to its master to recover if Adrian's hunch proved correct. Spirits below, if he was right about Shadowlash being bonded, who knew how the daemon's master might react to this setback?

Someone tried to murder me.

He could hardly wrap his head around the notion. What had an insignificant daemon catcher like him ever done to warrant such a violent reaction? He could think of only one possible answer.

Heartrender—the real Heartrender—ambled out from its hiding spot in the tall grass. It plopped down next to him, giving him a look he interpreted as smug.

"Yeah, yeah," he said with a wave of his hand. "Maybe I judged you too hastily. You did great out there. Not that you…"

He trailed off as the daemon trilled happily. Not that you can understand me, he'd been about to say. All at once, he was no longer certain that was true.

Heartrender was unlike any daemon he'd ever encountered. Instead of behaving like either a savage monster or a passive slave, it had devised and executed a plan to trick Shadowlash into destroying the bridge. That wasn't the act of a mindless beast.

He fingered the bondstones in his satchel. Now that he wasn't in imminent danger of death, his duty was clear. Heartrender was a stray. It was his responsibility to capture and submit it to Serenity Corp for processing. Yet, the daemon had saved his life. Rewarding that favor with a cage felt like the worst sort of betrayal.

Sighing, he removed his hand from his pouch and considered the daemon critically. Even if he didn't want to capture it, he couldn't let it walk free. His professional duty aside, he had to assume that Old Man Crastley lay at the root of this mess. Until he figured out what was going on, neither the worn journal tucked in his bag nor the daemon that had been with it were leaving his sight.

He cleared his throat. "Well, come along then." Turning, he took a few experimental steps. It can't possibly be this easy, can it?

Heartrender followed without hesitation.

Adrian shook his head wonderingly and continued toward Hillvale. There was definitely something off with Crastley, this daemon, and the whole spirit-cursed business. First, he'd return to town and the begrudging protection of the Watcher Division. Then, he'd get some answers.