Chapter 34
FLYING SHADOWS
Twig sets his hand on Kate’s shoulder.
She stands there like she’s frozen, like her body has forgotten how to move. It might have been the portrait that did it. Or the photographs of Rafe. Or maybe the shadow seeping out of the onyx as I squeezed it in my palm. Perhaps that piece of evidence could’ve been left for another day.
“Kate,” Twig says gently. “Could you give us a status check? Any signs of internal system failure or—”
Kate inhales sharply. She holds up her hands and says in a high-pitched rush, “I need some air.”
We leave the crypt. We climb the stairs to the cold, fresh air above. Kate sets her hands on her knees and takes big, gulping breaths while Twig and I look at one another with concern.
At least Rafe isn’t here, I think.
Thankfully, I convinced him to leave.
Kate would have enough to process without doing so in front of a pretend college student on sabbatical who is, in actuality, older than the portrait. I can remember all too well how freaked out I was when I made that particular discovery.
I set my hand on Kate’s back. “I know it’s kind of a lot.”
“Kind of a lot?” She laughs a singular reedy laugh. “More like insane.”
“But it’s real,” Twig says, examining the pearl.
He can’t use it.
To his great chagrin, he is utterly human. Not a drop of supernatural blood in him. Still, when Kate sees him turning the amulet over in his hand, she holds out her own in an aggressive stop signal, like she can’t handle one more ounce of strange.
Her coloring is worrisome.
I think she might be sick.
I’m about to ask Twig if we should have her lie down when a shriek echoes through the trees—a very unnatural, piercing shriek.
A shadow passes over our heads.
Kate grabs my wounded arm. “What was that?”
Before I can reply, before I can even wince, the shadow swoops again, and with a cold flood of dread, I realize exactly what it is.
“Run!” I shout.
Kate doesn’t have to be told twice.
Neither does Twig.
We take off, straight for the woods, as a demon bird from the Overlay dives at our heads. Its talons clamp onto Kate’s shoulders and with an ear-splitting screech, she is lifted into the air.
I grab Kate’s leg.
Twig grabs her other.
With a mighty tug, we yank her to the ground.
She lands hard as the winged monstrosity soars into the pale sky, circles once, then dives again with alarming speed.
Kate screams.
Twig grabs a splintered beam of wood from the ruins.
I fumble for the onyx in my pocket. I tear it free and squeeze it tight and without really knowing what I’m doing, I command the darkness to attack.
With a burst of fire in my arm, shadow shoots from the stone like a lasso. It whips around the creature, pinning its wings to its sides. I squeeze the onyx harder and the demon bird crashes to the ground—writhing and thrashing and gnashing its teeth.
I squeeze harder still.
A cord of black sinew shoots forth and binds the creature to a tree.
My arm is burning.
Shaking.
I can’t hold on much longer.
I scream at Twig for help, and with a primal roar, he lifts the splintered wood and stakes the demon bird straight through its skeletal chest.
The shadows from the onyx scatter like ash in the wind.
The monster slumps to the ground.
For a moment, there is nothing.
Just shock and silence but for the ringing in my ears.
Twig is splattered with blood—dark, viscous blood.
Kate starts to hyperventilate, and then, with eyes wider than any eyes ought to be, she points over my shoulder and screams a bloodcurdling scream.
I’m knocked off my feet, my breath gone.
The onyx, too.
It flies from my hand as a second demon bird attacks. It claws at me with its talons. It rips my coat with its teeth. All I can do is use my arms like a shield to protect my face and my neck.
There’s a loud thwack and with another earsplitting screech, the winged creature is hurled away.
Twig steps in front of me, wielding the splintered beam of wood like a bat. The demon bird staggers to its feet, rattles its head, and spreads its wings. Twig takes a stumbling step backward and trips over a rock.
The bird bursts forward.
I scream for Twig to watch out. To run. But it swoops past him, straight at me, so fast I can do nothing but squeeze my eyes shut and brace for the impact.
But the impact doesn’t come.
There’s a swoosh of sound.
Another hair-raising screech.
I open my eyes to see the bird bound by darkness, held in midair. Shadowy cord winds around its neck and with a violent twist, lops its head clean off.
It drops to the ground with a sickening thud as Rafe steps into the light with the onyx in his hand.
I watch in stunned disbelief as he lights the beasts on fire.
They erupt in flame like dry kindling soaked in kerosene.
Without saying a word, without acknowledging Twig or Kate at all, he hands me the stone. I look up at him in wide-eyed shock as he runs the pad of his thumb across my scratched jawline, and with the most inscrutable expression, says, “Don’t look at me like that, Selah. I am not a hero.”