Chapter 19 #2
Cold eyes steered toward the door, and Ayla had transformed into a different person right there. The softness hardened to stone. She was no longer the kind, patient woman I had come to know but of someone with an unknown vendetta.
“I said get out. Until he kills you or you kill him.”
“Ayla . . .” I strode forward, clutching her hand in mind to find it cold and detached.
When an eerie chill spread through my body, I jumped back, staring at the space between us with Ayla, unmoved at what I had witnessed.
“Go. I believe it’s best that we finish our discussion for today.”
I did what she asked and walked out to the fading winter’s light.
My mind tore itself in two on the familiar walk back, the light nearly gone, and the road below me faded under thick trees.
Silas had given me his word that he wasn’t involved with the matters of the town folks, and Ayla’s outburst had me even more confused.
Who was I to trust on who it was killing people?
If it truly was not Silas, then who was targeting these people?
Who wanted the little girl dead?
These questions pounded at my skull. I did not notice the change in the path, enveloping the dense forest. The fog became thicker, wrapping itself around my heels. Night was fast approaching and the path difficult to see.
I tripped over a branch, falling onto the dirt. “Great. Absolutely wonderful.” I stood, wiping the dirt and snow from my trousers.
Valeria.
I froze, glancing up at the trees, fading into the night with the fog lapping at its stripped trunks. Long limbs stretched toward the twilight, creating shapes and shadows, making my skin crawl. The forest whispered back, giggling among themselves as if conversing with the ominous winds.
In front of me, down the long stretch of the path, stood a wispy shadow similar to the ones hidden in the castle depths. Unlike the children of darkness, the shadow’s wiry grin revealed a set of jagged yellow knives.
Valeria, foolish child. You should have killed him when you had the chance.
The black mass darted forward, swiping past me. Stinging pain laced up my arm. I placed my hand to my shoulder, the slick metallic smell flooding my senses, pulse racing at the sight of bright crimson.
Blood dripped from my palm and from the wound on my shoulder. Behind me, an army of shadows rolled over one another, their masses mingled with each other as a pack of wolves excited by the scent of fresh meat.
I bolted down the path, rustling behind me and around me.
Chased by death, I ran hard. With my limbs on fire, the shadows sliced into flesh, leaving a blood trail to follow.
There was no escape. The harder I ran, the more the shadows slashed into me.
Hot tears streamed down my cheeks, the pain mounting, and my limbs became jelly, threatening to fall from under me.
I slammed against a boulder, blood sputtering to my lips.
Come now. We just want a play thing. You don’t mind, do you?
I slinked to the ground, my vision swimming. The shadows converged into one singular mass and sprang forward to pierce.
“You don’t stop, do you?” a voice said.
Silas’s pained face winced with blood seeping from the corner of his lips.
His stone-hard body covered mine. The scent of blood, thick and nauseating, seeped from blades of wispy shadows pierced through his back.
Red-coated silvery tips splattered against pristine white cloth and dripped silently onto the ground and into me.
Silas groaned, “When I say run, do so and don’t look back.”
I widened, hands clasped over my mouth to prevent the scream from erupting. Silas’s body was riddled with thick blades of black, puncturing tan, immortal flesh. Blood pooled at his feet, as the blade released their grip with a sickening muted sound.
“Run!” Silas yelled, facing the imminent threat balling together for a second strike. “Now!” Silas pushed off the boulder, facing the shadows head-on with brute force.
I did what he said, running as fast as I possibly could, daring not to look at the battle behind me.
“Oh my Lord,” Ebony gasped.
I slammed the doors behind me, clutching at my shoulder, letting myself fall upon the granite floor. I didn’t move—the fight dissipated, and the adrenaline propelling me faded. Utterly exhausted, I closed my eyes to the ache of my limbs and the searing heat of sliced flesh.
“Help me.” I gasped, the pain seared itself in waves with every minor movement I threatened to make.
Ebony’s wispy self gathered materials and dressed the severe wounds.
She sat me up against the banister, moving quickly to stop the bleeding as I tried to make sense of the shifting shadows.
It couldn’t be a coincidence upon leaving Ayla’s that after talking about such shadows I was attacked.
But try as I might, I struggled to comprehend what happened in those woods.
There was no simple explanation I could come up with that made my doubts dissipate.
Ebony laid a gentle hand upon my shoulder. “This one will need stitches. Would you like something for the pain before I begin?”
I tilted my head to the door, watching it open to the chilly winter’s night and to the shadowy figure slowly to approach.
“There you are! Just what on Earth happened out there?” Ebony called to the figure.
The floor under me began to quake, shaking the Earth tenfold to the stone collapsing from higher up.
A low growl purred in my ear, and my own eyes fluttered upward to the heavens to see a hole opened to the gray clouds.
White shimmering flakes floated down in thick curtains, the storm upon us.
The cold swept through in heaving waves as the blizzard bore down, the pure white snow blotting the blood and the tortured scream.
“The shadows, they got to her. I was too late in tracking her down. The roses, Ebony. The goddamn roses,” Silas growled.
I blinked, his body bracing the cold wind to the garden as red petals joined the snowflakes, slicing the air with cruel beauty.
Cool hands pressed to the wound. “Forget the roses. She needs you. She lost too much blood, and I can only do so much. So, I suggest you do something before you regret it later.”
I began to fade, the pain taking its place. Ebony’s dark features blinked in for a moment, the blood—my blood appearing on her opaque apron, a steel needle poised in mid-air and then disappeared into the dark. Her voice warped at the sound of crashing and the fiery sting of my shoulder.
Hot tears stung my cheeks and then it all went black.