Chapter 11 #2
Then, all at once, a snapping sound and the light faded. Cirian staggard backward a few steps, a trickle of blood dripping from his nose.
I caught him by the shoulder before he could topple, his lanky frame swaying dangerously.
“What happened?”
“I was right. He’s nearby. But he’s not the only one. The thing that created all this terrible shit is there too—the Umbral. It’s keeping me from getting through to him.”
“How is that possible?”
“Magic, probably. This thing is like a sponge for it, soaking up any bit it can get its grubby hands on.”
“Did it try to communicate with you? Did you get a sense of what it wants?”
He shook his head, nearly all color having drained from his face at that point. “There is no reason within that thing. Only hunger.”
“That’s not exactly helpful.”
“I don’t know what else to tell you. Just having a part of my consciousness near it is terrifying. There’s no telling what damage it’s already done to Bastien.”
I opened my mouth to ask a question, but something shuffling behind me caused me to spin in place, my claws manifesting in a flash of purple sparks. The hallways stretched ahead, dim and lifeless as they were before, except…
“Shit,” Cirian muttered, pawing at his chest. “The thread vanished.”
From within the shadows, a horrible clicking sound emanated.
Muttering an incantation under my breath, an orb of purple light appeared over my palm, and I held it over my head to shed light as far as I could. The shadows did not react to this light like they did to what came from the tether. They moved closer, clinging to the ground as they moved.
“We need to move,” I said, backing towards Cirian.
“But we’re so close! I just have to get the tether back, and I can find him, I know it—”
Cirian words were swallowed in a yelp, and I spun on my heel, claws already in motion to slice through the shadow that clung to his back with furious speed.
Numbing cold covered my hand as I pulled it away, a dark ichor clinging to it.
Cirian shook the bisected shadow from his back, pressing himself against the wall.
“How long do you need?” I asked, planting myself in front of Cirian and facing the encroaching swarm of shadowy shapes.
“As long as you can give me.”
I dug my heels in, lowering myself into a crouch.
My right hand was still numb from the first attack, but I could still flex it.
It was going to complicate things if I lost feeling in both hands.
My tail swung low between my legs, hackles standing at full attention.
Somewhere in the teeming dark, that horrible clicking noise sounded again, setting my nerves on edge.
I’d survived countless skirmishes. Escaped certain death more times than I could remember.
This would not be the day that I met my end.
Muttering another incantation, I lobbed the orb from my left hand into the air, the shimmer of the light shifting as it hung in place above us, illuminating more of the approaching creatures.
They moved as one mass, with dozens of limbs shaped from pure shadow, so there was no telling where one started, and another ended as it rolled closer.
How was I supposed to stop such a creature if it lacked any shape?
A sudden burst of movement drew my gaze upward, and I managed to catch the descending shadow with my right claw, slicing it to ribbons that fell at my feet like the entrails of wild game.
The mass moved all at once, surging forward with countless limbs that swatted at Cirian from every direction.
With a snarl, I sliced through a dozen limbs, severing them from the mass.
But more took their place, and within seconds, the ground around me was littered with pools of ichor as I fought to keep them from the acolyte.
With each touch of the shadow, icy-sharp pain needled at my flesh.
My hands were numb after the second onslaught, and it was making me sloppy.
One shadow tendril struck my side with enough force to knock the wind from my lungs, and I let out a choked snarl as I tore it from the mass, ichor pouring onto the floor.
I wouldn’t be able to sustain this. Another blow to my thigh, and the left side of my body went numb. Tearing into the next round of strikes, I sank onto a knee, the ichor pooled around me swelling to engulf my leg in painful, frozen needles.
Pulling from the magic that brimmed in my veins, I let out a bellow, slamming the ground in front of me with both fists.
An explosion of lavender energy rippled out from my strike, forcing the shadow creature back a few feet and vaporizing the pools of shadowy liquid around me.
Fatigue gripped my muscles as the recoil of the magic set in, sapping the strength from my body.
I would not be able to summon another burst like that again.
“Cirian,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I can’t feel him anymore. He was right there, and now I can’t feel anything. Source save us.”
From ahead, the mass of shadows slithered forward, that terrible clicking noise sounding once more.
It knew that I was spent.
“What do we do?” Cirian asked, hooking his arm under mine and hoisting me to my feet.
I staggered, leaning on the other man to stay upright.
“You need to run. I can cut an opening large enough for you to get through.”
“I’m not leaving you here, Az. That’s not an option.”
“You’re the only one who has a chance of finding Bastien. Without you, we’re lost.”
“Then we leave together.”
He tightened his grip on me, holding his free hand out in front of him. The air around us crackled with cerulean energy, and Cirian let out a hiss of breath through his teeth as he loosed a bolt of blue lightning into the mass of shadows.
In a split second, the creature’s body rippled, layers of shadow peeling back as it parted, pressing itself into the walls on either side of the hall, revealing a single figure standing in its wake.
The figure reached out, catching the bolt as it struck their hand and snuffing it out with a clasp of its fingers.
The streak of light seared into my vision, clouding the features of the figure, but Cirian’s body tensed at my side, and he let out a ragged breath.
“No.”
I blinked the distortion away, straining to catch a glimpse of the approaching shape as it stepped towards us, moving through the tunnel of shadows.
“I’m glad you’re here,” the figure said, voice ringing familiar in my ears.
Bastien stepped into the glow of the orb, shaking the hand that caught Cirian’s lightning like he was shooing an annoying insect.
Cirian’s grip on me faltered, a shuddered breath pouring over his lips. Most of my body was still numb from the ichor, so I could only watch as the man moved closer, brushing dark locs from his eyes as he did. Surrounded by the darkness, his golden eyes shone like stars.
“Is that really you?” Cirian questioned, each word saturated with a blend of hope and suspicion. After all, he was the one to say that nothing in this place was real.
Bastien’s gaze shifted to me, and every hair on my body stood at attention, any heat left in my veins evaporating in an instant. There was something else staring back at me, not just Bastien.
“Azrael,” said Bastien, now just a few paces away. “Now all the players are here. I was hoping that if I made my bait enticing enough, you’d show up. This one’s intelligence is unmatched.”
“You’re not Bastien,” I accused the man, clenching my fists to will feeling back into my extremities.
“That’s not entirely true,” said the man wearing Bastien’s face. “But I am more than Bastien, if that’s what you mean.”
“What did you do to him?” Cirian demanded, shuffling us forward a step.
“Nothing he did not accept willingly,” answered the imposter. “I assure you of that. I simply offered my services to the ailing genius, and he agreed with the most delicious desperation.”
“Liar,” Cirian spat, his grip on me tightening to the point of discomfort. “Release him this instant.”
The imposter Bastien chuckled, golden eyes alight with amusement. “Release? Is that all you ever desire, Acolyte? Have you been searching for it, out here in the umber?”
“Shut your mouth.”
“I can smell it on you,” the imposter continued, shortening the gap between us by another step. “The insatiable need. A need to be desired. To be praised. To be loved. Is that what you think you’ve found with this connection?”
The imposter snapped his fingers, a tether bursting into existence between the two of them. Cirian’s body went rigid as the thread connected with his chest.
“How wonderous,” the fake Bastien breathed. “That humanity has discovered a way to create light without the help of their precious Source. To create magic where there was none before. And what delicious magic it is. I do wonder what the others might think.”
“What do you want with Bastien?” I demanded, enough feeling returned to my limbs to take an unsteady step away from Cirian.
“Admittedly, I wanted nothing from him before he came into my embrace. But once he made contact with me in the Ether, and I saw what was there, lurking in the corners of his beautiful mind, I was entranced. I had to know what this new magic—this new light—was. Fortunate for me, Bastien was all too willing to give himself over. His burdens were heavy. And now they are no longer.”
“Liar!” Cirian said again, wrapping his hand around the cord between the two of them. “Bastien would have died before he gave up on Tobias. You manipulated him.”
A smile spread across Bastien’s face. “Can you be certain?”
“Then let us speak with him,” I interjected.
The imposter paused for a moment, golden eyes once more drifting over to take me in.
“So be it. Let Bastien’s own words ring true in your ears.
He can tell you what joy it brings him to be free of the burdens of expectation.
To be rid of the lie that is hope. To give oneself over to the sweet bliss of darkness—”