Chapter 27 Tacita #3
Every now and again we check the map. We hadn’t gone that far but needed to make sure we were heading uphill. We should be approaching the correct spot before too long.
Climbing over a few fallen trees on the path, we do indeed reach a small clearing. It's not more than a few metres wide in any direction but there’s a clear gap in the trees and a small patch of grass growing on the forest floor from the window of light created by the opening in the treetops.
The clouds above mean there’s no moonlight and I briefly wonder how the humans are managing to navigate because it was pretty fucking dark, even to my eyes.
The small area seems to fit the description of what we were looking for, so we break off into pairs to start searching the bases of the trees around the edge of the area.
Time ticks as success evades us.
“It must be here somewhere,” Seffy calls out as we reach opposite sides on our second hunt around. “What did the clue say again?”
Milo slowly signs the words as I say them, both of us having memorised the clue. “My favourite tree is one where you can tuck yourself into and watch the stars. The area of the sky is small but it’s so peaceful you could stay up there forever.”
“Wait, we’ve been looking at it wrong. It’s not the roots, it's the branches.” Rio moves into the middle of the clearing and assesses the circle of trees around it.
He moves off, approaching one with several low branches and starts to climb. The three of us on the ground move to the base and watch his ascent.
“Be careful, it’ll be slippery,” Seffy calls up.
“Aw, you worried about me?” Rio’s voice comes from above, but we can no longer see him.
I listen hard as he climbs, noticing the creaks of the wood and the assured steps of his footholds. I keep braced in case he slips, knowing I could break his fall enough to stop him dying out here.
Luckily, he seems like a decent climber and we are left waiting with growing impatience until he finally calls down again.
“Got it!”
Seffy breaks into a girlish squeal and claps her hands. Milo releases a heavy exhale, a smile stretching his lips. His clear euphoria at solving the task is infectious and I’m grinning widely back at him as we wait for Rio to return to the ground.
Jumping the last section, Rio holds up our prize. It’s a small bottle, round at the base and extending into a thin neck. It’s made of a dark green glass and reminds me of several of the bottles in Khaos’s potions room back at the mansion he shares with Hades.
After we each inspect it, Rio takes it back for safe keeping and we begin the descent feeling a lightness we hadn’t on the way up. We’d done it. Task two was nearly completed and even though I wasn’t really competing, I still feel the win.
And Wyatt and Milo would be getting to the final stage.
A twig snapping ahead halts the happiness buzzing in my veins. The others don’t hear it as they slam into my back and each other.
“Hey,” Seffy exclaims. “Why the sudden stop?”
“Shhh!” I hiss.
“Up here, fellas,” a male voice rings through the night. I hear several sets of footsteps.
Fuck.
“We need to hide,” I snap. “Now!”
But we’re too slow. Five other contestants appear through the trees, surrounding us. They’re all men, all built bigger than us, bar Rio.
My strength will outmatch them, of course, but my immediate instinct is to protect the humans at my back.
I step out, away from our little group and Rio, to his credit, is next to move, coming to my side.
“Ah, look what we’ve stumbled across. Wyatt’s little harem.” I swing my gaze to the speaker. Its number Sixty-Two.
“Let us pass,” Rio calls out.
“Not a chance, gangster. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this.”
“What do you mean?” I try to calculate everything I know about this contestant. His name is Cameron, he’s here because of his investigation skills. He’s on my list as the potential killer, second floor, first building. Should be in Garrick’s cells right now.
Assessing his body more closely, I notice that two of his fingers are strapped up, along with his thumb. The others also have digits in bandages and two are sporting black eyes. They’re all from the second floor. All suspects and all looking pissed.
“You act like you don’t know why I would be hunting you down, princess,” Cameron jeers in response to my question.
Honestly, I’m a bit baffled at his clear anger towards me.
“That dick of a boyfriend of yours dobbed us all in.”
“What?” Now I really am confused. I feel Milo step up to my back, his hand coming to my side.
“It’s his fault we all spent the last twenty-four hours getting our bones broken by those asshole demons.”
I have no idea how he’s reached that conclusion, but I’m not about to correct him just yet. I need a plan to get us out of this forest without it coming to physical blows.
My silence costs us.
“Get them boys,” Cameron shouts and they ascend on us.
Rio gallantly steps around me, swinging the first punch as the nearest guy gets within reach.
I take on the second who is right behind him.
Somehow, I manage to keep restrained as the anger boils in my veins.
Remembering that I’m acting human right now, I limit my speed and hold back on the punches.
I really do try to take the bastard down whilst not giving myself away.
I quickly have him on the ground. But before I can knock him out fully the others reach us.
With Rio and I both engaged, Cameron and the remaining other male, number Seventy-Seven, manages to slip through. Seffy prepares to fight and surprises me with an effortless looking move which gives her the advantage–she’s been hiding the fact she’s clearly trained in the martial arts.
Milo, however, freezes. Cameron is the one to grab him and the words he spits at my human ends all my will power to keep up this charade.
“Guess you’ll be first, I can’t wait to see his face when we rock up with your bodies.”
Grabbing the head of the guy I’m fighting, I break his neck in one swift twist, killing him instantly.
The first man I put on the floor decides to recover somewhat, so I kick him in the face before he can manage to get his feet underneath himself. Dead or unconscious, I no longer care.
Returning my eyes to Milo, having lost a few precious seconds, my body stills as my blood freezes over. Even my demon feels cold as I watch Cameron wield magic.
A blade of ice forms in his hand and before Milo can struggle out of his hold, or I can reach him, Cameron thrusts it straight through Milo’s ribs.
“No!” The scream is visceral, it rips from my lungs as I shift.
Using my talons, I shred a hole down the side of my leggings with my index finger. On an upstroke, brushing the blade inked to my skin, my palm closes around the metal handle of the dagger as it pulls from my thigh. The weight is a familiar comfort that I’ve missed so dearly.
“Anima Sola,” I whisper into the night. Soul trap. With a flick of my arm, the blade is launching to its first destination. It flies true and buries itself straight into Cameron’s neck. The magic within makes it glow as it encases his soul within his dying body.
He’s not meeting Charon this night, or for a very long time, if I get my way. And if I’m correct and he is in fact the killer we’ve been trying to track down, his soul will be taking a one-way trip to Tartarus for the rest of eternity.
Diving to catch Milo as they go down, a flash of my demonic abilities allows me to move the distance in a fraction of a second.
Wrapping one hand around his waist, I support his weight as I reach out with my free hand to retrieve my knife. It pulls free of Cameron’s neck with a glorious spray of blood and a gargled noise as he drowns in it.
The dagger isn’t in my hand for more than a second as I send it flying once more into the back of the guy fighting Seffy. He goes down as I sever his spine with the throw.
Milo staggers, his hands coming to the ice blade in his own chest, red crimson soaking through his t-shirt.
“Don’t remove it,” I command him. My heart is thrumming in my chest. I’m practically vibrating with the fear that he’s going to die. “We can fix this,” I tell him as he pulls me to the ground, his strength fading fast.
Without even looking, I recall my knife again, before taking out the third guy and the fourth. I’m too focused on Milo.
We need to get out of here, he needs medical attention. Especially as in the next second the magic holding the water as ice winks out and the shard in his chest disappears, leaving an open stab wound and nothing in the way of his blood flowing freely.
His eyes are wide in panic, his breathing is completely messed up and he’s clinging to me. I can’t linger on his gaze or I’m going to lose it.
“You’re going to be fine,” I tell him repeatedly.
Releasing my wings, the decision is already made.
“Hold on tight,” I tell Milo as I pull him into my arms. He’s not that much bigger than I am, and I’m certainly strong enough to hold his weight, but flying with a passenger is tricky.
Still, we don’t have time, flying is his only hope.
Taking a breath to centre myself, I recall my blade and check my balance before launching skywards.
The trees are too close for me to fully spread my wings, but I get enough speed in the take-off and we’re in the top most branches before I have beat them again.
The feel of twigs raking against the leathery membranes is a pain my body wishes to recoil from but I don’t care. I can heal.
All that matters is getting Milo back to the compound before he bleeds out. With having to grip onto him there is currently no pressure around the wound, it’s bleeding freely, the sticky wetness growing against my stomach where he’s pressed against me.
“You’re going to be fine,” I whisper close to his ear. I think I’m telling myself as much as I’m trying to reassure him.
His heart beats heavy in his chest, the slowing tempo pulsing in my ears and making me fly faster. His breathing becomes laboured as blood floods his chest. My own lungs feel tight, like I can’t breathe deeply. My vision is getting blurred as my eyes tear up.
He can’t die.
I refuse.
I fly harder.
Slamming into the ground inside the compound, I land outside the Guards’ building and immediately scream for help.
It’s late and there’s no one out in the courtyard.
I really don’t want to let Milo go but I have to detangle his arms from round my neck and set him on the entrance steps so I can stand and pound on the door.
Swiping the tears from my cheeks only results in me smearing some of Milo’s blood across my face.
“Garrick! Dominic! Help! Get the fuck out here now!” I call at the top of my lungs.
Milo groans at my feet and I crouch back down to check on him, there’s so much blood.
I don’t even know if the knife pierced anything vital.
The wound is at the base of his ribs, on the left side, but angled right and it would’ve gone straight up into his heart. I press down on it now with one hand.
“Help,” I scream again, thumping my other fist on the base of the door.
Milo’s hand comes to my bare arm, my top long gone, my wings having shredded the fabric when I shifted.
I look down into Milo’s eyes and see the terror there, but there’s also a look of resignation.
“You fight it,” I tell him. “You don’t get to die.”
But his hand falls away as his head rolls back and he falls into unconsciousness.