Chapter 10 Divine Intervention
Divine Intervention
Alight haze gave the woods an ethereal quality.
But as they traveled, the fog shifted; tendrils that slithered through the trees thickened as they pressed further into the center of the forest. Shadows danced between the spaces unseen.
A cold touch on Sorcha’s shoulder sent heat coiling beneath her skin.
The runes flickered beneath her clothes.
It wasn’t just the warmth; it was a vibration that sent a warning.
She rubbed her arm, shrugging off the sensation.
Her eyes drifted to the trees. They grew taller the further they went.
Their branches tangled together like lovers’ hands.
Sunlight struggled to reach through their grasp.
Forcing her eyes away from the forest, she looked to Riona.
She didn’t seem concerned yet, and her runes didn’t glow as they pushed through the thickening gray.
“I can barely see two feet ahead. Is this normal in the Hollow?” Riona murmured, her voice taut with unease.
Sorcha, ever composed, tightened her grip on her bow. “No, it’s not. Something isn’t right.”
Riona’s fingers brushed her knife hilt, nerves prickling. They crept slowly, carving marks into the trees; but the marks kept vanishing.
“Are we going in circles?” Sorcha asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Riona crouched, brushing her fingers over the damp earth, her expression unsettled.
“Sorcha, look here.” Riona pointed to the ground, tracing the trail of black tar crawling around the trees.
They were in the middle of decay. Obsidian vines twisted around the ground, tangling with brush.
They clawed their way up the trees and branches, dripping with a darkness that choked the life from them.
Just then, Riona rose abruptly, her head snapping toward the distance.
A low, haunting sound cut through the emptiness, a single howl that sent a chill racing down Sorcha’s spine.
Another howl followed, then another. Each one closer than the last. The eerie chorus echoed from all directions, amplified by the emptiness of the forest.
“By the gods,” Riona muttered. “It’s the Wolves of the Wild Hunt.”
Sorcha’s skin was now ablaze, its glow a beacon in the shadows. Riona’s own runes were now glowing softly, flickering in acknowledgment. The Spectral wolves, harbingers of death and imbalance. She swallowed hard. “What if they’re sick…like the others?”
Riona’s jaw clenched, her knuckles white around the grip of her daggers.
The thought of facing the already lethal wolves that may be twisted in sickness made her sweat and dread knot in her stomach.
The howls grew louder, the sound wrapping around them like a tightening noose.
Sorcha turned slowly, runes glimmering beneath her skin.
Shapes flickered at the edges of the trees.
Humanoid silhouettes with eyes like burning rubies.
The wolves prowled at their feet, snarls low, some snapping their teeth.
“Bocanachs,” Sorcha hissed. “Ready your daggers.” Sorcha remembered that the bocanach got pleasure from causing fear and despair, often lingering near spaces of pain or death to feed on the negative emotions.
That they were in the middle of decay and dead animals made it a perfect hunting ground.
Sorcha didn’t hesitate, now knowing what she was up against. Her fingers flew to the string, notching an arrow in a practiced motion.
The first specter lunged, its form flickering like smoke, and she loosed her shot.
The arrow struck true, shattering the figure into vapor.
But no sooner had it vanished than two more emerged, gliding toward them with eerie, weightless grace.
Sorcha fired again. And again. Each shot dissolved another shadow, yet more kept coming.
“Keep moving!” she barked.
The wolves surged forward, red glowing eyes locked onto their targets. Sorcha spun, heart pounding, loosing an arrow into the nearest one. It let out a piercing howl as its form flickered and dissipated, but there were more. They now we’re surrounded.
“We need to climb,” she called, voice strained. “We’ll have a better vantage point!”
Riona nodded, sheathing her daggers before launching herself up the nearest tree.
Sorcha followed, her quiver bouncing against her back as she climbed.
Fingers slick with sweat made the climb harder.
From their perch, the specters prowled. Sorcha loosed arrow after arrow.
Each hit sent another enemy dissolving, but for every one that fell, two more emerged.
The runes surged, heat racing through her veins like liquid fire.
It gathered at her fingertips, coiling around each arrow like unseen threads of light, ensuring she never missed.
With every pull of the string carrying more force than the last, the power inside her rose, demanding to be unleashed.
“We can’t hold them off forever!” Sorcha shouted.
Riona pulled a rune stone from her belt, her lips moving swiftly in an incantation. She held it aloft, its faint glow slicing through the air. For a moment, the Bocanachs hesitated, their flickering forms wavering. Her own runes flickered, like lightning bugs in the night.
“Buy me some time!” Riona yelled.
Sorcha fired faster, her shots striking true, even as wolves clawed at the base of the tree.
One managed to climb, spectral claws digging into the bark.
Sorcha grabbed her dagger, slashing at its face until it lost its grip and tumbled back to the ground.
Her vision blurred. For a moment, she saw flashes of shadowy figures writhing in agony, voices rising in a chorus of screams. She clenched her teeth, shaking her head to clear it, fingers tightening around her bow.
“Riona, whatever you’re doing, hurry!”
Just as she turned her back to face what was below, a snarl split the air, and jaws clamped onto her calf, teeth sinking deep. Fire and ice shot up her leg, and she screamed as she was yanked violently from her perch.
The world tilted down, and her perspective spun as her back slammed against the ground; her bow flung across the ground.
The wolf began dragging her. Dirt filled her mouth as she clawed at the earth.
Kicking wildly, her free leg smashed into the wolf’s ribs.
It only growled, dragging her faster. The sky churned above, the last shreds of light coiling around the treetops.
Her vision blurred, flickering between the present and somewhere else.
The figures writhed as they came in close.
Their voices squealing in delight, drinking in her pain.
She could see them swarming like bees around a honeycomb.
Each one diving in to take an invisible bite, she clenched her teeth trying to focus, but suddenly the wolf let her go, as the other wolves whimpered.
Lowering themselves as they backed away.
The shadows twisted, disintegrating as the fog started to part.
A shadow took shape in the mist as it stepped forward; a towering horse.
Twice the size of any mortal steed. Its mane flowed like liquid silver.
A body carved from the night sky streaked with fallen stars.
Its eyes burned an icy blue white, haze curling from its nostrils with every breath.
Vapor pooled around its hooves, swirling like water stirred by unseen currents.
Sorcha’s breath caught. Her voice was barely a whisper. “The Ceffyl D?r…”
The horse let out a deep, resonant whinny—a sound that rumbled through the clearing.
It raised onto its hind legs as it reared back with its hooves striking the air.
A wave of silver erupted outward, cascading through the clearing like a tsunami.
The wolves recoiled, their howls turned to frantic yelps as they scattered into the shadows.
When the Ceffyl D?r landed, it was with an earth-quaking crash; the ground beneath it rippled like water.
A deep hum reverberated through her body.
The aura surrounding it was ancient. Possibly older than the forest itself.
Her pulse thundered as fear rooted her to the spot.
The horse locked eyes with Sorcha, looking her over as it slowly approached.
The horse snorted, releasing a shimmering cloud that cloaked the clearing in its dusting of glittery silver.
Slowly and carefully, the Ceffyl D?r halted mid step and turned away, vanishing into the shadows.
Sorcha’s breath came in shallow, uneven gasps.
Her fingers dug into the ground beneath her, knuckles white.
The divine presence of the Ceffyl D?r wasn’t a coincidence in Sorcha’s mind; it couldn’t have been.
She stood slowly, balancing on one leg as she looked for Riona.
Riona appeared beneath the tree they perched in, her eyes wide and hands slightly trembling.
Sorcha reached for her bow, meeting Riona’s eyes.
“We need to move.” Her voice was steady now. “That thing wasn’t here by chance.”
Riona nodded, her expression grim but determined. Without a word, she looped an arm under Sorcha’s, steadying her as they moved. The mist slowly dissipated as they retraced their steps.