10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I awake with a jolt, startling Eoin as well. Our fire has gone out and though it is still very dark, there is a slight red glow on the eastern horizon. Eoin stretches and lets out a loud groan.

"Red in the morning," he says with a raspy voice. "Supposed to be a bad sign."

"I think that's just for sailors. I'm sure we will be fine." I collect our wooden cups. "Soon, we will be sleeping on beds again and eating foods with salts and spices—and vegetables! Eoin, we will have fresh vegetables again. Can you picture it? I think I could go a whole moon without tasting another animal."

I approach our tent, yawning deeply. "I swear we only use this thing half the time I set it up." I massage my neck and shoulder, stiff after being crammed in Eoin's armpit all night.

"Might as well get a start on the day." Eoin rolls up our blanket. "It will be daybreak soon." The birds wake and sing, signaling the approaching sun. We pack up our campsite and bring our horses back to the creek for water. By the time we fill our water bladders and return to our campsite, half the sky is a vibrant shade of red. We mount our horses and begin our last stretch of road.

We've only been riding for an hour when Eoin pulls Chester to a stop in front of me, holding his hand up to indicate I should stop as well. He dismounts and unsheathes his sword.

"What's going on?" I whisper ahead to him. He shoots me a glare and mouths shut the fuck up . He gives me the signal to wait here and stalks away. There is a large boulder in the bend ahead, obscuring my line of sight.

He returns to view and signals I should get down and come over. We bend the corner and I see it; a wooden carriage with painted flowers on its side. Flies swarm around the two dead horses, and the fae family is nowhere to be seen.

I look to Eoin, and he nods to the ground near the carriage. The earth is tore up by what appears like enormous claws. We follow the disturbances in the ground, careful to keep our steps quiet. Dark inky blood stains the trees ahead. My pulse quickens.

Eoin holds out his arm and stops me, shaking his head.

I push his arm away and walk forward through the thicket of bushes. The sight is gruesome and horrifying. The father lies face down with his head at an awkward angle. I can't look away; something just isn't quite right.

"What's wrong with his neck?" I ask.

Eoin squats next to the man and takes a closer look.

"It's partially gone," he says. "It looks like something ripped almost clean through."

Behind him, a couple meters back, lies his wife holding her youngest daughter. Both of them have bite marks around their necks and slash marks on their bodies. Blood stains the ground around them like discarded pools of liquid tar.

My heart pounds in my ears, and I fight the urge to throw up. "I can't be here," I say while hunched over.

"Just a moment," he responds without looking at me. "I'm looking for the other girl. She may be hurt. You can go wait by the carriage." He continues looking around the underbrush, sword in hand.

I stumble back to the carriage, chest heaving. Leaning against the wheel, I take slow, deep breaths, shutting my eyes tight. A small creak sounds from within the carriage, and I jump back.

Oh gods, it's out here with me, and I've left Eoin behind. I pant, and my vision darkens around the edges. "Eoin!" I call. He breaks through the shrubs behind me just as her small brown eyes peek through the crack in the carriage door.

She screams and scurries farther into the carriage. I swing the door open to find her curled up in a ball, as far back as she can get, eyes peeking just above her knees. She perks up when she sees Eoin and whispers to him; "Her eyes were black."

After several minutes, Eoin convinces her to exit the carriage and come with us. We return to our horses, and just before we mount, we hear a deep, deafening roar. Eoin's horse rears up and whinnies before taking off at full speed.

Through the tree line ahead bursts a colossal brown bear. At least it looks like a bear—something is wrong with it. Its beady eyes are red and sunken in, and its teeth are too long for its muzzle.

The bear roars again, and two cloaked figures step out on both sides of the trail ahead. I can't see their faces, but their eyes glow a deep crimson from within their hoods. They lower their heads and growl in unison.

Eoin pushes the girl behind him, and we take our fighting stances. The first figure charges Eoin, and they immediately engage. Their swords and movements are swift, like a dance. I breathe rapidly, panic setting in. There's nowhere for me to run.

The second figure turns its head to me and steps forward. I pull a dagger from my belt and toss it without thought or hesitation. I strike true, hitting it in the throat.

The figure falls to its knees, clutching at its throat, and pulls the knife free. My moment of elation at my first true strike in battle is short-lived as the figure stands back up. I glance at Eoin to see if he sees what I'm seeing. He's more skilled than the cloaked figure and pushes it farther up the trail.

Remembering the bear, I pivot and reach for the girl, making sure she stays behind me. Eoin yells and swings, cutting the cloaked figure's head clean off. It rolls forward, and the bear roars, charging after him.

Terror seizes me again, and I feel that pulling sensation. I can't watch Eoin die. The darkness takes me for the third time, and I am trapped within my own skin. The remaining cloaked figure approaches but I run right past him towards the bear that is now crouched over Eoin. It slashes at him and opens its jaws near his throat. Blood pours from a gash at Eoin's side, and fear fills his eyes.

The girl screams behind me, but I barely register it. I slam into the side of the bear, knocking its jaws away from Eoin. ‘Help Eoin,' I scream at the darkness that has taken hold of me. He's dying! I plead and fight to regain control to no avail.

I pull a dagger from Eoin's boot and bury it into the side of the bear's neck. It turns and growls in my face, hot breath reeking of carrion.

In one swift motion, it leaps from Eoin and pins me to the ground. It rips at my chest and bites my arm. The pain is excruciating as my skin knits itself back together almost instantly, only to be torn again. It bites me in the shoulder, and I scream in agony. I drift even farther into myself to complete darkness.

I awake, standing with my hands on the bear's upper and lower jaws, spreading its mouth wide. Apparently, my darkness can still fight without me—a thought that is both comforting and terrifying.

The bear shakes its head, desperate to break free from my grip. He advances, pressing my back into a tree, and I pull harder. The bear roars once more as I feel a pop and continue to pull.

I rip the bottom jaw clean off and swiftly stab him with it in the beady sunken eye. Its tongue and torn flesh hang as it growls in my face. The dagger protruding from its neck catches the light, and I pull it out, quickly shoving it through its ear.

The bear collapses, and I turn to the remaining cloaked figure. It crouches, hunched over the girl's still body. I scream at myself or whoever is in control, desperate to get out. Help Eoin! He's dying! Power radiates through my very bones. I've never felt this powerful and this helpless at the same time.

I approach the cloaked figure which appears to be drinking from the young girl's neck. As I raise both hands towards it, I'm startled by my fingers, which are inky black at the tips, spreading and fading up to my knuckles.

Thick black shadows billow out from my hands toward the figure. It screeches, backing away. I pounce on it, and its hood falls back. It's eyes are too wide and its gaping mouth is in a perpetual scream. It doesn't look human but rather an idea of a human. I pin it to the ground and the darkness billows from me, casting a dark shadow around us.

I sit on the figure's chest and grip both sides of its head, pulling with all my might. I don't want to see this, oh gods I don't want to see this! I panic, and by some mercy, my head turns at the last second as I feel the tear and pop of the creature's head ripping clean from its body.

What is happening? Is this a nightmare? I run back towards Eoin. His eyes are shut, head hanging limply; blood still trickles from his gaping wound. I want to put pressure on the wound, but my arms don't respond.

Oh, Eoin. My heart breaks. I raise my dagger, and my stomach flips as I slice a vertical opening in my left wrist. I use the dagger as a wedge to hold the wound open and pour a small, steady stream of blood directly over the gash in Eoin's side. The torn flesh knits together, and I notice my fingers return to their tan uniform color.

Eoin stirs and groans. It's working. What are you? I think to myself. Can it hear me? Will it respond?

Eoin gasps and sits up, grasping at his side. I scoot away, my eyes suddenly heavy, and I fall onto my back. The canopy is so peaceful again. Eoin is alive. My eyes close to darkness and a small female voice whispers in my head.

‘You're welcome.'