Chapter 33
It’s not completely without light, but almost.
My magic snuffed out the moment we hit the ground. It’s freezing cold, and it takes a moment for our eyes to adjust. It’s as if the darkness is a fog itself, smothering life from the woods. The white bark of the trees provides the tiniest amount of illumination. I blink over and over again in a vain attempt to gain clarity.
Acker keeps a tight grip on my hand as we right ourselves. One look back tells us the break in trees we fell through has disappeared. There’s nothing in every direction. If we were to take more than four steps away from one another, we’d be lost to the inky surroundings.
I open my mouth to call for Messer, but it’s so quiet I almost don’t want to disturb the silence.
“You think the people who went missing simply … lost their way?”
“I don’t know,” Acker says, voice matching the low whisper of my own.
Like me, he’s peering into the dark abyss, but there’s nothing to be seen beyond what we can reach.
After standing in silence for a long moment, I can’t stand it anymore and call out, “Messer!”
Acker’s hand tightens around mine, but he doesn’t stop me as I call again. Louder this time, trying to project past the stifling atmosphere. My voice only gets swallowed by an unseen weight in the air.
I hiss.
There’s alarm in Acker’s voice when he asks, “What is it?”
I feel the back of my neck for the source of the sharp pain. I bring my hand up to my face. The liquid on my fingers is as dark as the night, but I don’t need to see its true color to know it’s blood. A wet sensation drips
down between my shoulder blades.
“Something bit me—”
Before I can finish speaking, another winged creature flies at my neck.
Latching onto my shoulder with talons or teeth, I’m not sure.
I scream. I claw at the thing as it digs deeper. Acker latches onto its body and tries wrestle it away. My fingers dig into the leathery skin and bile coats my tongue at the disgusting texture. I know without a doubt that whatever it is, it’s grotesque.
As soon as we’re able to dislodge the creature, a third flies in for the attack. There’s no time to react. This time it latches onto Acker. Again, another. And another, to the point we’re forced to let go of each other in a bid to save ourselves from the onslaught.
I brace my hands over my head to protect my face and neck. Pain sears through my forearms. They’re being shredded. Razor-sharp teeth or beaks or claws tear through skin and muscle. It feels damn near to the bone.
Screaming through my teeth, I grab one and chuck it as far as I can, only for another to take its place. Their wings beat a thunderous roar, overlapping in cadence as the attacking horde grows. I stumble back and trip over something sticking up from the ground, letting out a cry at the slash of pain in my hand as I fall to the ground.
If possible, the roar of their frenzied flight intensifies, like they sense weakened prey and are descending on me like a wave. Acker yells for me, but there’s no use. We’re both going to die, and it’s all my fault.
Anger unlike anything I’ve ever felt before fills me. I am sick of constantly being on the brink of death or under attack, sick of men who think they can control the world and everyone within it.
“Enough!” I shout, throwing my hands out.
With the gesture comes a flash of light, blinding as it illuminates the horrifying scene. Hundreds upon thousands of rabid bat-like creatures hover above us. My magic is burning them, and they begin to panic, to try and get
away. Their skin melts from their bones, wings disintegrating into nothing before they drop to the ground.
“That’s it,” Acker encourages, helping me to my feet.
Fueled by my anger, my attack is frenzied, undirected. I can feel my magic swelling below my chest, straining for the death of every single one of these hideous creatures trying to retreat. An endless thrum of vibration sounds in my ears.
The forest begins to clear. My gift rages from my palms, swelling to cast light in every direction. We can see the trees and forest floor and … and bones. Blanketing the ground in various shades and stages of decay, including the one protruding from my hand.
“Don’t let the magic control you,” Acker says, eyes flitting around us, looking for an out, in any direction. Anything to tell us where in this forest we are.
I yank the bone from my palm and magic flares, but I don’t feel the pain, like my magic wants to protect me from the sensation. Nothing can touch me. I’m unstoppable.
“Jovie,” Acker warns. Annoyance spears through me. “Rein it in, Jovie.”
The creatures continue to fall to the ground like rain from the sky. The bubble of light expands around us, as if it’s chasing the darkness back inch by inch. The dark is a writhing mass beyond, trying to fight the inevitable.
Because it is inevitable. My light will prevail.
Acker shouts my name, but he’s so far away. He might as well be at the bottom of the ocean.
The sky breaks through overhead, my light greeting the afternoon sunlight like an old friend. The creatures, out of room to escape, evaporate
into thin air.
I can kill them all.
I let my power flow and push and chase and decimate. This forest of death and suffering now knows what true demise looks like, and I watch as my light threads through the trees and reaches the very edges of the treeline, not a stitch of shadow to be found, until the dark place is dark no more.
I’m tackled to the ground. My skull rebounds off the floor and my vision flickers out for a few seconds before I’m able to focus again, the pain
registering with it.
I cradle the back of my head. “Ow.”
Acker’s eyes are still squeezed tight, cracking open a smidge before deeming it safe enough to look. His assessing gaze is filled with equal parts relief and awe as he looks me over before quickly transitioning into anger.
“Are you trying to kill me?” The scratches and puncture wounds are beginning to heal across his face and neck, the skin stitching back together within seconds.
I struggle to catch my breath. “Consider it payback for feeding me fish
with a murder weapon.”
“I—what? Are you serious right now?”
The lack of humor in his gaze does exacerbate the guilt already taking root in my stomach. Wielding my gift without constraint felt as natural as breathing, allowing the warmth to spread through my entire body and mind like a balm to my soul. I didn’t want to turn it off. Ever.
“I’m sorry.”
He lets out a sigh of relief. “Are you okay?”
I nod. He helps me to my feet, and that’s when I’m able to fully process our surroundings. The Dark Forest is … no longer. The trees are smoldering.
Leafless and singed, they stand silent, without a winged creature in sight. There’s no indication reference for direction, nor which way to Kenta.
We weave through the trees, stumbling over skeletons and debris. A lump of soft body is visible in the distance, and I make a run for it, Acker hot on my heels. Sven, still in his panther form, bleeding everywhere. He’s breathing raggedly and unconscious. Between the fight against Messer and the creatures in the forest, he’s past the point of return without a skilled healer to stop death from claiming him.
“Leave him,” Acker says, urging me forward.
But I can’t continue, not if there’s a chance Messer is nearby. Acker sees the resolve in my eyes. He growls out his annoyance under his breath. He turns in the opposite direction from me and begins to look for any shape that may be a wounded animal.
“Messer!” I call again and again, Acker’s voice echoing mine.
I’m the one to find him, lying on his side. Entire chunks of his leopard flesh are missing. His breathing is shallow, eyes closed. He can’t have more than a minute left.
I call for Acker, and he comes quickly. I can tell by the look on his face that he thinks there’s no hope. I look up at him, tears in my eyes as I struggle to lift the leopard’s head. “Help me. Please.”
He orders me to move. I scurry out of his way. He lifts a leg in each hand and swings the mammoth animal over his shoulders. Blood runs like a waterfall down his back. He motions for me to go ahead of him with a jerk of his head.
I run at a near sprint, not knowing if we’re even going in the right direction, until the sound of pounding of hooves gets my attention.
“Keep going,” Acker orders, his breathing somehow less ragged than my own despite his burden.
That’s when I see it, the break in the trees and the flow of soldiers coming over a hill in the distance, the Kenta flag flying overhead: green with a horizontal line across the middle, daggers fanning from it like the rays of a rising sun.
The ground of ragged bones turns to grass, and I nearly weep with joy when we emerge from the forest and into the open field of Kenta territory.
Acker halts the first soldier on horseback, laying Messer gently across the withers of the horse. “Get him to a healer.”
“Yes, your highness,” the soldier says, turning the horse back around.
Your highness.
I try to take a step, wanting to tell the soldier to hurry, but I can’t make my legs or mouth co-operate. My vision blurs, everything going out of focus as I try to alert Acker that something is wrong.
The last thing I hear is him cursing as I hit the ground.
