Chapter 9

"Paige?" a distant voice called.

Paige's eyelids fluttered open, and she glanced around the unfamiliar space. The icy wind gusted past her as her eyes adjusted to the darkness that surrounded her.

"Hello?" she called.

"Paige," the voice called again.

She lifted her eyes to the ceiling while she searched for the voice.

She climbed to her feet, her breathing turning ragged as she continued to search for anything familiar. "Hello?"

Something moved to her left.

She snapped her head in that direction. "Hello? Dewey?"

A rustling noise sounded, and a glint of light appeared.

"Dewey?" Paige called out again as she wandered to the light.

Her breath caught in her throat while she approached a large, frosted window. She lifted the thick, velvet curtain from the leaded panes and glanced at the full moon in front of her.

"Where am I?" she questioned.

She let her gaze slip down, searching for the ground below and any identifying features. She found nothing. The black bricks making up the building disappeared in a cloudy mist that obscured any details.

Paige trembled as she backed away from the window.

"Hello? Help!" Panic laced her voice, and sweat beaded on her brow.

She spun in circles, searching for an exit. Across the room, lit by the moonlight streaming through the open curtain, a massive, ornately carved wooden door barred her exit. She hurried toward it, grasped the centrally located knob, and spun it.

She tugged against the large door as she swiveled its knob, but it did not budge.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, she pounded against the door. "Help! Help, I'm trapped. Someone help me!"

"Paige…" the voice said again.

She choked on a sob and spun to scan the room, pressing her back against the door. The large lion's face carving poked into her back. She swallowed hard as movement came from near the window.

Paige adjusted her glasses, her lips pulled into a tight grimace. "Who are you? Why am I here?"

The figure did not answer. Limned in moonlight, it stalked toward her, nothing more than a black shadow with no distinguishing features outside of one: red eyes.

"No," she cried, sliding down the door and clutching her knees to her chest. "No, please."

The dark figure loomed over her, and she shook all over.

"Please," she cried out one last time before the world slipped away from her.

* * *

Paige's body shuddered, and she thrashed her head back and forth. A moan escaped her lips, and her forehead crinkled.

"No!" She gasped, flailing her arms blindly in front of her with her eyes still squeezed shut.

"Paige!"

"No! Leave me alone! Get away!"

"Paige!"

Paige popped her eyes open and sucked in a shaky breath as she glanced around the room.

Dewey fluttered in front of her, concern masking his teal features. "Paige?"

"Dewey?" she questioned, rubbing a palm against her forehead. "What happened?"

"You passed out. You just went down. Are you okay?"

"I–I think so."

Dewey landed on the floor next to her and stared down at her, his concern not waning. "You didn't hit your head. I caught you before you could."

"Thanks," Paige said, balancing on her elbows as she tried to push up to sit.

"Whoa, wait a second," Dewey said, waving her back. "Don't go too fast. We don't want you going down again."

"I feel okay now. I just…"

"What?"

Paige stared at her feet as she knit her brows. "I… I don't know. I feel like something happened to me, and I can't remember what. Like when you wake up from a vivid dream, but you can't recall it."

"Hmm," Dewey said, rubbing his finger on his lips, his tail swishing behind him. "Maybe it's the lack of sleep. You have been up all night."

"I passed out from lack of sleep?" Paige asked, shooting him an unconvinced look as she pulled herself up to sit.

Dewey shrugged, his teal palms pointing to the ceiling. "Maybe? Look, why don't you try to get some sleep, and I'll get a jump start on our research."

Paige reached over to collect the books that had spilled across the floor and dragged them closer to her, stacking them together. "I'm fine."

"Paige–" Dewey began.

"I said I'm fine." She climbed to her feet and brushed off her pants. Her forehead crinkled again as a detail flitted across her mind. "I wonder…"

Dewey launched into the air and studied her face. "What?"

Paige shook her head, lifting the books into her arms. "It's probably nothing."

"Or it could be everything. What?"

"When I came up with the first three books, the beast mark was bothering me. I wonder if it has anything to do with that."

Dewey's thick eyebrows squashed together, and he tapped his nose horn as he considered it. "Let's take a look at the wound and see if anything has changed."

Paige nodded and set the books on top of the stack near her armchair. She tugged her hoodie up, gathering it into her fingers in a bunch around her neck.

"How's it look?" She craned her neck to glance behind her.

Dewey's eyes went wide, and his jaw gaped. He fluttered back a foot, his front feet kicking out in front of him. After a moment, he pressed his lips together and swallowed hard.

"Dewey?" Paige questioned.

"Ehhh, not great."

Paige furrowed her brow, trying to catch a glimpse of the wound hidden by the bulky sweatshirt. "Not great? What does that mean?"

"Kinda looks worse than before. Nothing to panic over, but…"

"But what?" Paige shook her head and fought to tug her arms from the sweatshirt. "Wait, let me get this thing off and see for myself."

She pulled the shirt over her head after freeing her arms and tossed it on the armchair, twisting her neck to catch a glimpse of the wound.

"Really, Paige, it's not worth it. Let me get some research done–"

"Not worth it?" Paige interrupted him. "If this is worse and was the reason I passed out, I think it's worth a look."

"I mean, it could be the reason," Dewey said, sticking a paw on his hip and waving the other around nonchalantly.

Paige cocked her head, staring at him.

Dewey held his paws in the air. "Okay, okay, let me get a mirror."

He flitted from the room and returned with a mirror clutched in his paws.

Paige retrieved her compact mirror from her tote bag and popped it open as he flew behind her. She aimed the mirror over her shoulder and nodded at him. "Okay, hold it up."

"Are you certain this is necessary?" Dewey asked, letting the mirror dangle at his side.

"Dewey!"

"Okay, okay, fine. Don't say I didn't warn you." He raised the mirror, aiming it at the wound on her back.

"Up a little. I can't see anything but my lower back."

Dewey tilted the mirror higher, his lips pulling back into a wince as the image hit Paige's tiny makeup mirror.

She gasped as the wound came into view. A few days ago, it had been red with green edges from an infection. No amount of antibacterial ointment had healed it, though the infection had been kept at bay.

She arched an eyebrow as she continued to study the latest developments. The green edges had faded, though the angry scarlet color remained. But now, black tentacles reached from the center of the wound toward her porcelain skin.

They appeared to pulsate with each beat of her heart.

"Oh my God! What the hell is that?" she shrieked, her fingers tightening around her mirror as she stared into it.

"I'm not certain. But in the good news column, the green infected stuff seems to be gone."

"Oh, yeah, great. The infection is gone. And replaced by…" Paige pressed her lips together, crinkling her brow as she shook her head and waved a hand in the air, trying to summon the words. "This!"

Dewey lowered the mirror and fluttered closer to her. He stared at the wound, reaching a finger out to touch the black tentacles. "Whoa!"

"What?" Paige asked. "What happened? What is it?"

"I touched one of the tentacles, and it moved. Almost like retracted away from me."

Paige's lips formed a wide grimace. "Like into my body?"

"Yeah. It's like it's another creature. Like a parasite." Dewey's words came slow and clipped as he leaned closer to Paige and touched one of the black tentacles again.

"Well, get them off of me!"

"I'm not certain we can. I'm assuming they are growing out of the wound. Likely planted in a tiny form when you got the mark, and now they've grown to a larger size. Does it hurt when I touch them?"

Paige shook her head. "No. It just feels weird. Like my skin is crawling."

"I'd like to study these further. I wonder if I can remove one or part of one."

Paige swallowed hard, wrinkling her nose as she considered the proposition. "This sounds gross." She paused for a moment. "But it may prove helpful. Do what you have to."

Dewey flicked his fleshy eyebrows up. "Okay. Let me grab some…stuff, and we'll try to extract one. Maybe you should lie on the air mattress. I don't want you passing out again."

With a frown, Paige nodded in agreement. "This is so gross. Suddenly, the Shrieking Pixies sound like a better deal."

"Eh," Dewey hedged as he flew into his bedroom, "probably not." He fluttered back into the room with a fistful of items. "Oh, unless these are some parasitic form of Shrieking Pixies."

Paige sprawled on the air mattress, wrinkling her nose. "Oh, that's disgusting."

"Maybe so, but it would explain a lot of things," Dewey said as he grabbed two plates from the kitchen cupboard and sailed back over to her.

He landed on the floor and set his materials around him.

Metal tools clattered against the dish as he laid them out before fluttering back into the bathroom for a towel, gauze, and a few other medical supplies.

He settled down next to Paige. She twisted her neck to face away from him, squeezing her hands into balls. She pressed her lips together in anticipation of an unpleasant experience.

Silence fell over the room, and Paige squeezed her eyes shut, her body tensing. A tool clattered down onto the plate, making her jump.

"You know," Dewey said, "I'm thinking maybe I should whip up a batch of slime before I attempt this. I'm afraid this may be painful."

Paige blew out a breath and swiveled her head toward him. "And I wouldn't even mind if you overestimated my weight. Being high may be a good thing."

"One batch of slime coming right up!" Dewey said, sticking a finger in the air.

He launched himself into the air and flew over to the kitchen. Paige grabbed one of the reference books she'd brought up to study while she waited. She thumbed through it, staring at the pages without seeing the words.

With a sigh, she clapped the book shut. "It's no use. I can't concentrate until this is done."

She tossed the book back on the stack, flopping back onto the air mattress. The knowledge of what she lay on top of drove her back up to sit.

"Have you seen Dickens?" she asked, glancing around.

"He's under my nest."

"Oh, good. Good place for him while we deal with these things."

She set her elbows on her thighs and sank her chin into her hands, watching Dewey mix the sludge-like medicine in a metal bowl. He sloshed it into a tall glass and tugged a drawer open, likely in search of a straw.

"No straw needed," Paige said, climbing to her feet.

She ambled to the kitchen with an outstretched arm and waved her fingers to signal him to pass her the glass.

Dewey raised his eyebrows as he handed it off.

Paige chugged it in one long sip, slammed the glass down on the counter, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Let's do this."

"Whoa," Dewey said. "Sure. Maybe give it ten or fifteen minutes to take effect."

"Did you give me enough to make me high?" Paige asked as she wandered back to the air mattress and plopped onto it.

"Tipsy, maybe. You won't be as high as you were the first time," Dewey answered.

Paige surveyed the tools spread on the plate, her nose wrinkling again. She picked up a scalpel and studied the light glinting off it. "Maybe you should have made me high."

"It'll be okay," Dewey said, landing on the floor and stalking toward her.

She sucked in a deep breath and returned the scalpel to the plate.

After swinging her legs onto the mattress, she settled in on her belly. "Okay, let's go for it. Get one of those bad boys out of me, and we'll pick it apart."

"Here goes," Dewey said, retrieving a pair of tweezers. "Try to hold still, and let me know if you feel anything."

"Wait," Paige shouted.

"What is it?" Dewey asked, leaping back a step with his hands held in the air.

She pushed herself up to sit and leaned toward her tote. "I want to get my mirror. I'd like to see what's happening."

Dewey wrinkled his nose, his horns wiggling. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"It'll be fine. I can always look away." She retrieved the compact and tossed the tote away before setting back in.

With one mirror clutched in her hand and the other aimed at her back, she blew out a long breath, then pressed her lips together.

Her forehead pinched as an uncomfortable sensation passed through her upper back.

Dewey raised a magnifying glass and peered at the black tentacles, poking at one with his tweezers. It appeared to flinch from the contact.

"Is it moving?"

"Looks like it, doesn't it? Which is what makes me wonder if this is some form of parasite. Okay, let's see if I can cut off a piece."

Dewey set the magnifying glass down and palmed the scalpel. With his teal lips pressed firmly together, he leaned forward. He adjusted his grip, his ears wiggling as he appeared to firm his resolve.

With the tweezers at the ready, he pressed the scalpel against one of the black worms. As soon as he placed pressure against it, the object snapped back, burying itself inside the wound and turning into a black dot.

"Whoa!" Paige and Dewey both shouted simultaneously.

Dewey's arms flew back as he stared wide-eyed at her wound. "Did not expect that."

"It reacted like you were attacking it."

"Yeah. Which again makes me think parasite. This thing has a self-preservation mechanism. It's not just some kind of growth resulting from the wound."

"There are still a few left. See if you can get one."

"I'll keep a firm hold on it this time with the tweezers," Dewey said with a nod as he leaned closer.

Paige blew out a long breath as Dewey settled in over her.

He carefully placed the tweezers around one of the black bodies. "Okay, here goes. I'm going to try to cut him on either side."

Dewey sucked in a deep breath, the scalpel hovering over the creature. With a nod, he pressed the scalpel against its body.

Paige winced as he began to slice at it. Black liquid sprayed everywhere, landing on her back and Dewey's skin.

"Ouch," she shouted as smoke rose from her skin. "That burns!"

Dewey cried out, too, dropping the scalpel and tweezers as he wiped at his face, paws, and Paige's back with the towel.

The wounded creature took shelter inside Paige's body.

She blew out a sharp breath.

Dewey shook his head as he threw down the towel. "Okay, this is not working. We're going to need to cover your skin and mine before we attempt this again."

"Yeah, I can't imagine how painful this would be without the slime. That burned!"

"Even I felt it, and I've got scales!" Dewey said as he flitted into the air, heading for his bedroom.

He returned with several towels and a mask dangling from his paw. After carefully covering as much of Paige's skin as he could, he donned his surgical mask and slid a pair of glasses-style eye protectors onto his horned nose, wedging them between two horns. He tugged on a pair of thick gloves before grabbing tools in both hands.

"Okay, let's try this again," he said, his voice muffled by the mask.

Paige blew out another breath and positioned the mirror to watch the progress. Dewey grasped hold of one of the remaining worm-like creatures with the tweezers.

With a wobble of his nose horns, he pressed the scalpel against its black flesh. "Here goes."

Paige winced as black blood sprayed out in a steady stream while Dewey worked to cut through the thick flesh.

He grunted with effort. "Tough little bugger."

The worm wriggled in a desperate attempt to free itself. Paige whimpered as dull pain radiated through her upper back.

"You okay?" Dewey asked as a bead of sweat formed on his brow.

"Yeah," she answered with a clenched jaw. "Keep going. Get the little bastard."

Dewey finished slicing through the worm on one side. It retracted its free end and tugged against the tweezers.

Dewey swung the scalpel to the other side and attempted to cut through the flesh and free a chunk of the creature. It squirmed violently until it began to slip from the tweezer's grip.

"You're losing him," Paige said.

"I know, I know!" Dewey tossed the scalpel away and adjusted the tweezers.

The creature continued to fight, finally pulling itself out of his grasp and disappearing into Paige's body.

"Damn it," Dewey shouted.

"One left," Paige said. "Make it count."

Dewey flicked his gaze into the mirror. "You okay?"

Paige gave a slight nod. "It hurts, but I'm okay. Just get him."

"I'm not going to cut this one. They're too hard to handle. I'm just going to try to pull it free. It may hurt."

Paige nodded again, clutching the pillow under her tightly.

Dewey adjusted the glasses and tugged the gloves up higher.

"No more Mr. Nice Guy," he said, his eyebrows knitting as he stared down at the last worm-like creature stretching across the wound.

He snatched a second pair of tweezers, his hands hovering over it. With a quick flick of his wrist, he grabbed hold of the tiny beast with one set, then the other.

It twitched and convulsed, trying to escape.

"No, you don't," Dewey murmured as he tugged one side then the other, keeping one set of tweezers tight against the worm's body.

Paige gritted her teeth as pain shot through her body, radiating from her back into her arms and down her spine. "Get him!"

"I'm trying. Hang in there." Dewey rose into the air, his wings beating hard as he yanked and pulled.

A scream rose from Paige's throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut as her jaw fell open.

"Almost," Dewey said, sounding miles away.

"Hurry," Paige breathed out as the pressure and pain built.

She felt like her insides were being ripped out. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her muscles tensed. Blood rushed into her ears before her body relaxed, slipping away into an unconscious state.

Not againwere the last words rattling through her brain as the world dropped away.