1. Danger in beauty #2
As they walked, Cat hummed an unfamiliar tune in a singsong way as he trailed ahead, and it wasn’t long before Kyron was beside him.
Sorcha followed a few paces behind, watching Kyron and Cat navigate the terrain.
Hours passed this way until Cat paused, his body stilling when they heard the soft singing of a lullaby.
“This way,” voices echoed as a ball of blue light flashed.
One after another, little blue flickering orbs emerged, leading them deeper into the forest. “Sorcha, this way!” they called.
“What’s going—” Kyron began to ask when Cat loudly chomped down.
“Spit it out!” Sorcha screeched.
Kyron’s eyes landed on Cat. He just sat there while the little orb bounced around in his mouth. He looked like a greedy little chipmunk, the blue orb lighting up his cheeks as it bounced from one side to the other.
Kyron’s eyes widened in horror. “Why are you eating the wisps?” he whisper-shouted.
“Spit it out, Cat!”
Cat rolled his eyes, opened his mouth wide, and revealed his tongue, on which sat a small, dimly glowing blue orb covered in saliva.
The orb shot into the air, only to land on Cat’s head with a loud “Wham!” Cat hissed and rubbed his head as the little blue sphere zipped away.
“What was that all about?!” Kyron demanded.
Cat, still glaring angrily at where the orb had gone, rubbed his head and explained, “Those cursed things led Sorcha and me into an ambush on the Bridge of the Forgotten and nearly got us killed. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear they were trying to kill us.”
Sorcha, still staring at Cat in disbelief, muttered to herself. Then, turning to Kyron, she simply nodded and began to follow the wisps. Cat was also muttering as Kyron followed them, moving deeper into the forest.
Reeds began to sprout up as the ground squelched under their feet, the wisps disappearing as they grew closer to the voice.
The lullaby began to twist into a mournful melody that rushed over Sorcha; sorrow descended, clouding her thoughts.
It was a sound of beauty intertwined with heart-wrenching pain, captivating her so completely that she failed to notice the figure ahead, crouched low in the clearing.
A woman with tangled hair shrouding her face knelt by the bog’s edge amidst the reeds.
Her shoulders shook with the intensity of the song emanating from her.
As the melody swelled, a peculiar numbing calm spread through Sorcha’s body.
The woman’s voice held her captive in a way she couldn’t quite comprehend.
Every fiber of her being screamed to cry out, to warn the others, but the world around her began to swim as the song echoed in her mind.
From the periphery of her vision, she saw movement: a figure stepping in front of her.
It was Kyron, his sword already half-drawn, his eyes locked onto the woman.
“Cat,” he whispered. “Do you see that?”
Cat had been observing shadows lurking deeper within the trees, concern spreading across his face, but Kyron’s voice caused his eyes to dart towards the woman.
The instant Cat’s gaze fully settled on her, the melody ceased, and the woman’s head snapped up.
She wore tattered lace and cloth, and her skin was as pale as snow.
Her nails were long and curved; liquid dripped from her hands.
Sorcha strained to see what it was at first, but when the women’s hands twitched, she caught the gleam of blood that stained them.
The women’s hollow eyes met hers, and it was evident that sorrow had consumed her entirely.
Cat hissed, “It’s a banshee.”
Kyron’s voice dropped to a mere whisper, “We’re in a bog, of course it is. We walked right into this, Cat; we need to get out of here.”
Cat struggled to understand why she would be in such a place, how they had ended up in a bog, but then, with a sudden flurry of motion, her skeletal hands shot out, aiming directly for Cat.
He planted his feet, canines bared, and roared with a force that shook the very ground, just as he had done before.
The sound tore through the air, causing the banshee to falter, standing still as if stunned.
In that same moment, Sorcha blinked as her world snapped back into focus, though her body still felt heavy, as if waking from a deep sleep.
Her movements were clumsy as she staggered forward, fighting a wave of vertigo that threatened to send her to her knees.
Before she could fully grasp what was happening, Kyron was shouting to her. “Sorcha, you need to go!” he urged.
The banshee shrieked, reaching for Sorcha, and the raw grief in the woman’s voice pierced Sorcha’s soul.
“Sorcha, don’t go.” She wailed. The banshee touched Sorcha‘s hand, gently tugging her toward the waters. That’s when Sorcha screamed.
Her cry echoed the banshee’s; the physical force sent the banshee staggering back across the bog, her eyes wide with shock.
Kyron whirled to face Sorcha and Cat. “Cat, get her out of here! Now!” he cried as the banshee let loose a screech that ripped through the clearing.
The nightmare creature charged on all fours, its tattered robes billowing like smoke.
Kyron stood his ground as the banshee slashed wildly.
Her skeletal fingers dug into Kyron’s arm, eliciting a sharp hiss of pain and ragged gasps as his blood spattered the damp earth.
With a piercing shriek born of pure rage, she lunged again.
Kyron stumbled backward as she screamed and tore into his abdomen.
Meanwhile, Sorcha’s eyes, wide and unfocused, stared blankly ahead, her hands hanging limply and her body trembling. A choked sound escaped her lips.
“Sorcha,” Cat rasped, nudging her leg.
“Sorcha!” His voice grew louder with urgency.
Incoherent murmurs were all that left her lips as one of his tails coiled around her waist. With a fluid, powerful movement, he scooped her onto his back and fled. The screams behind them drowned out the frantic thudding of his paws.