24. Cin
Cin
Willow…
Her name runs through my mind like a mantra, a desperate chant. Memories of her smile, her intoxicating scent. I remind myself of these things, hoping it may allow me to hold on to my sanity for even half a moment longer.
Willow… Have to get to Willow…
I’m vaguely aware of my limbs moving, of the sharp whip of branches against my face, of a niggling pain on my right shoulder blade—but I can’t focus on anything for more than a moment. I think, maybe, my wing is gone. That would explain why I can’t seem to fly.
And I want to fly. Need to fly. Those things took Willow into the canopy, so the canopy is where I must go. If only my wings would work.
I blink and come to a stop. The whispering voices rise to a crescendo, and I clap my palms to my ears, gritting my teeth against the screaming pain in my temples.
What was I doing?
I straighten, staring out into the darkness like it will give me the answers. It’s on the tip of my tongue. I know I was doing something important. I just need to remember…
A scream. Female.
Willow…
Everything else falls away, and I know exactly where I am and what I need to do.
I run toward the sound.
My shoulder blade throbs with every stride, a dull ache that barely registers through my panic. I can feel myself growing colder with every step. Weaker. Slower.
Willow…
My vision goes white at the edges, but I push forward, forcing my muscles to respond and my legs to move faster. I can’t stop. I won’t stop.
Stumbling, heaving, sure that I can take not one more step, I finally come across it.
The nest.
It hangs in the middle of the small clearing, suspended between six of the tallest Welwig trunks.
The nest itself resembles a hornet’s nest, its massive weight held aloft by millions of twining silver strands—each thick rope shimmering with a mysterious fluid.
Dozens of smaller egg-sac-like pods cling to its underside, pulsing faintly.
It’s like there’s something alive inside.
Several winged creatures crawl to the front of the nest, staring at me with wet, unblinking eyes. I take a step into the clearing, and though they track me, none make a move to attack.
Willow…
I close the distance, and the creatures chitter, a wet clicking sound that reverberates deep in their throats. When I’m at the mouth, two of them creep forward, wings twitching, mouths spread wide in lipless snarls.
The sound that explodes from my mouth does not come from me at all. It’s something primal. Ancient. Evil.
Immediately, the creatures cower, scrambling back into the nest's dark mouth. Without thought, I follow, knowing inherently that they will not touch me. I do not know whether it is because of my tie to the Welwig or something else, but I do not care.
I duck inside the nest.
I move slowly through the darkened space. Slimy strands of the silken material cling to my shoulders, thick and wet, their feel making my skin crawl.
I find Willow at the far back of the nest, suspended by hundreds of those shimmering strands. Her body wrapped from ankle to shoulder, with only her pale face left bare. Her eyes are closed, but her chest rises and falls against the bindings.
Alive. She’s alive.
As soon as I reach her, I start ripping the strands away with my claws. The creatures creep closer again, talons clacking, mouths dropping open in soundless screeches.
“BACK!” I peel my lips back, baring my teeth in a vicious snarl. Just as before, the creatures lower to a cower, then slowly back up the walls away from me.
Satisfied, I turn back to Willow, carefully cutting her free from the last of the web. One arm under her legs, the other wrapped tight around her waist, I pull her against my chest, listening to the steady thrum of her heart.
The moment ends, and I turn for the entrance.
Unfortunately, it is now blocked by at least a dozen creatures. They don’t look like they will attack, but they also don’t seem likely to move out of the way unless forced to.
I set Willow down gently, safely out of the way. Then I go for them.
They don't fight back. Not really. They try, but the second my eyes land on them, the fight bleeds out of their bodies, and they surrender to their death.
Is it me? Or is it what's inside me?
I don't have time to answer the question. There’s a surge of power beneath my skin, and then the bloodlust takes over. I go somewhere else, somewhere distant, watching through eyes that are no longer my own. I see claws sink into flesh. I see wings tear. I see blood—so much blood. Carnage. Bodies.
I can't stop. I don't want to stop.
When I come back to myself, I'm on my knees, and I'm tearing the head off the last creature with my bare hands.
Blood and sinew spray in a fantastic arc of violence.
Blood soaks my skin, drips from my claws onto the frozen floor, joining the carnage littering the nest around me.
I'm exhausted. Hollowed out. I don't know exactly how much of my soul I gave in order to accomplish this, but I’m starting to worry it was too much.
Willow…
Her name pierces the fog, the chaos, and the screaming. I blink, and for one blessed moment, I can think clearly. I let go of the head, and it thunks to the ground with the rest of its body.
Willow…
I crawl to her on hands and knees, dripping blood and shaking, and gather her face tenderly between my palms.
"Willow." Her name comes out cracked, barely a whisper. "Willow..."
Her eyes blink open, unfocused at first. They find mine, and my heart cracks wide open.
“Cin…” Willow’s voice is soft, hoarse. “Cin… you came for me…”
“Al…al…” I struggle to speak, to fight the energy rising, desperate to take over my body. But I won’t. I won’t let it. I breathe deep, pressing my forehead to hers.
“I will… always… come for you… Always.”
I gather her into my arms, careful not to nick her with my elongated claws. She makes a whimpering sound that tugs at my heartstrings, and I nearly fall to my knees as pain lashes through me.
I am sorry… so… so sorry I could not protect you. From them, from me…
I pull her tiny, fragile body tight to my chest, and I carry her out of that place.
The clearing is quiet now. No chittering. No screams. Just the slow drip, drip, drip of blood as it slides down my back to the frozen ground.
Must… make it… find the others… help Willow…
My wing is all but gone, hanging on by threads of skin, and deep, oozing wounds cover the rest of my body that I must have received from my fight.
My vision goes white at the edges, and I know I do not have much longer.
The pain, the anger, the voices in my head…
It is all too much. Too much, too much, too much…
For a moment, I forget where I am, and I go down hard, knees cracking against the frozen ground.
At the last moment, I twist so Willow lands on top of me instead of being crushed underneath.
I try to rise, realize I can’t, and settle back against the ice, listening to the steady ebb and flow of Willow’s breath.
A halo of fluid spreads out from me, warming my skin and coloring the frozen ground a beautiful, dark hue. Somewhere far away, I’m aware that I’m losing a lot of blood and life force, and that soon, my body will give out. I just can’t find the will to care all that much, though.
Knowing I cannot protect her in this state, I curl around her instead, wrapping my arms tight and tucking her into the hollow of my chest where nothing can reach her. Blood soaks into her hair, her clothes, and I hate it, but I can't move, and I won't let go.
It’s okay, my angel. I have you now. I… I have you. You are safe.
We stay like that for a long, long time. My thoughts start folding in on themselves, coming apart at the edges, and the voices overtake it all, as they always do. I hold Willow, allowing her to tether me to this plane. Warm. Breathing. Mine to protect.
I hold on to those thoughts for as long as I can. Then, slowly, I begin to forget why I came here at all.
A sound reaches me through the fog, and I lift my head, the movement causing a fresh wave of agony to flow through my body.
Three demons emerge from the shadowed forest, their movements cautious. As soon as they lock eyes with me, their expressions close off, but the fear shining in their eyes is too strong to hide.
One turquoise, one pink, and one orange. It takes me a moment to remember that they are my brothers. Even longer to recall their names.
They look terrible.
Nyx favors one side, dragging a leg behind him. Rhune's face is a mask of dried blood, his hair matted with it, and one of his wings hangs at an awkward, painful-looking angle. Dravik is the steadiest of the three, and even he is covered in wounds and limping.
Vhalthor comes behind them with what's left of his army. A few dozen soldiers, maybe less. The king's chest is torn open, one horn cluster on his shoulder sheared clean away. He wields his blade in one trembling fist, like he’s afraid if he lowers it, he will never rise again.
Rhune glances down, his eyes widening as he sees Willow in my arms, and he breaks into a full sprint. “Willow!”
All three of them are running now, closing the distance fast, and I want to tell them she's alive, that I have her, that she's breathing. But the words will not come, and the fog is rolling back in, and I cannot remember how to make my mouth form words.
I clutch Willow’s body tighter, and I wait for them to reach us. They crouch near me, their mouths moving around words I can’t make sense of. I think… I think they want me to let her go.
“No!” I lash out, one of my claws clipping Rhune in the face, spraying a fresh arc of blood across the clearing. “No! You cannot have her! She is mine! MINE!”
I curl my body around hers once more, teeth bared and snarling like a rabid beast. I think, maybe, I have fully lost my mind.
Nyx steps closer, slowly lowering into a crouch. He lays a gentle hand on my shoulder, his voice speaking softly through the bond, easing me out of my panic.
It’s okay, Cin. No one is taking her from you.
“Willow…” My voice is rasped, animal, not mine.
Nyx’s eyes crease in sympathy. “Yes. Willow. You saved her, Cin. She’s okay now. She’s safe.”
I gaze down at the small body in my arms, trying to make out her features through my hazy vision.
“She… she’s safe… I… saved her…”
“Yeah, Cin. Yeah, you did.” Nyx’s voice cracks. Whether it’s with relief for Willow or sorrow for what his brother has been reduced to, I do not know.
I doubt it matters.
With the help of my brothers, I’m able to rise, but I keep Willow tight against my chest, unwilling to let her go for even a moment.
“Please,” I say. “Please, just… just let me hold her. Let me hold her until I—”
“Okay, Cin.” Rhune’s voice is soft. “We’ll take her back when it’s time.”
When I am no longer myself. When I inevitably lose my mind.
Shame and rage war inside me, threatening to crack my chest wide open. Instead of falling to my knees and breaking down again, I pull my shoulders back and stare hard into the surrounding darkness.
Then—tenderly, carefully—I carry Willow out of the forest.