Stolen Enchantress by Amber Argyle
Larkin wondered if she would have given it to him on her own.
“Talox didn’t even seem angry,” Venna said miserably. “He kept saying the beasts were coming and to stay in the trees.”
“Of course he would tell you that,” Alorica snapped.
Larkin dropped to the ground. “The beasts are real.” Even as she said it, she searched the forest as she’d seen the men do now for two days. The forest take her, she didn’t even know what to look for! “We need to cross the river.”
Alorica rolled her eyes. “I can’t swim!”
“You could hold on to a log and drift across,” Larkin said.
“Talox told me to cross too.” Venna wrung her hands. “I can’t swim either.”
Larkin was even more grateful that Bane had taught her after she’d almost drowned.
“They’re just trying to slow us down.” Alorica didn’t look back.
Larkin couldn’t stop thinking about Denan’s warning. “Alorica, if you don’t cross the river, I’m not going.”
“Then don’t come,” Alorica called over her shoulder.
“Alorica!” Larkin called after her, but the other girl didn’t slow.
Larkin and Venna exchanged a look. “We can’t let her go alone,” Venna said and took off after her.
Larkin seriously considered leaving them to their fate, but then she glanced up at the shadows of the men in their pods. She’d promised Denan she’d look after them.
With a growling sigh, she hurried to catch up.
Larkin’s shoulders ached with the weight of the stolen pack. She wanted to pull her hood up, but she didn’t dare lose sight of the forest for even a moment. It was so still even the birds had stopped singing. A dark feeling itched under her skin, like she was being watched.
“The sun will set in minutes. We need to get up the trees,” she called to the others.
“The men will be waking soon, if they haven’t already,” Alorica said. “We have to put as much distance between ourselves and them as possible.”
Venna had always been the more reasonable of the two. Larkin appealed to her. “The pipers never went anywhere without a scout, and certainly not in the dark. We could be walking right into a pack of beasts and—”
Venna lifted her chin. “I saw the gilgad Denan brought in. It wasn’t that scary. Besides, we have all the antidote.”
“There’s something worse than gilgads,” Larkin pleaded. “Something you don’t understand.”
Venna bit her lip. “What?”
“It’s a—” She couldn’t say it. Idiotic magic binding her tongue! “It’s the beast! I promise!”
Venna gave her a pitying look and hurried after Alorica.
Larkin caught up to them. A dark shadow shifted ahead. The three of them froze. Sleek with golden eyes, a huge cat tensed as it looked back at them. Alorica staggered back. Venna let out a strangled shout. The cat tensed and darted into the brush.
They were silent a beat, and then Alorica let out a nervous laugh. “There’s your beast, Larkin, and Venna frightened it off with her all-powerful voice.” She strode out. Venna shot Larkin a nervous glance and kept walking.
Larkin wanted to scream in frustration. To know the wraiths were out there and not be able to warn her friends! Something shifted to Larkin’s left. She whipped around, her neck wound pulling, only to find nothing there.
They came out into an open meadow. The last dredges of sunlight brushed against Larkin’s face in warning. The grass all around them was tall and green, and a little pond lay to their left. Where were the deer and other animals? This meadow was perfect grazing, and yet not a strand of grass had been chewed down.
Alorica gestured. “There, open space. Do you see any beasts?”
All Larkin could see was wavering grasses. “But—”
“If you want to go back, go back!” Alorica adjusted her pack and stormed off.
“Venna,” Larkin tried again.
“I want to go home,” Venna said. “Alorica’s right. I think you’re afraid to go back—not that I blame you, but still. There’s at least another hour of light left after the sun sets, and I’m not going to lose it.” Venna cast an apologetic look over her shoulder.
Out of the corner of Larkin’s eye, the trees’ shadows wavered. When she turned to look, she saw nothing. Denan said they came from the shadows. By now, Alorica was more than halfway across the meadow, headed straight toward the forest’s reaching shadows.
A dark foreboding grew in the pit of Larkin’s stomach. She hesitated. Should she climb a tree now and leave the girls to their fate? She’d promised Denan she’d look after them, and she couldn’t just let them walk into danger. She ran after them, the pack jostling awkwardly.
She passed Venna and caught up to Alorica, snatching her arm steps before she reached the shadows stretching toward her feet. “Alorica, stop,” she said breathlessly.
“What are you doing?” Alorica jerked free.
“Please, you have to listen—” Larkin began.
Venna’s cry of alarm shut them both up. Larkin followed her horrified gaze. The trees were mammoth conifers with serrated branches, and though they held perfectly still, their shadows writhed on the ground like tortured snakes. The shadows condensed and rose up into a black vapor. In the midst of that vapor appeared two sets of jagged irises the color of jaundice shot through with blood. Where white should be, there was only consuming blackness.
“Wraiths!” Larkin stumbled back, the word finally coming easily from her mouth. “We have to get in the trees.”
Alorica clutched Larkin. “They’re coming from the trees!”
“No. From the shadows.” Larkin looked behind her, at the final vestiges of sunlight illuminating the trees to the east.
“Run!” Venna cried. They bolted back the way they’d come, Larkin in the lead, Venna and Alorica right behind her.
“Larkin, look out!” Venna cried.
Larkin stuttered, half turning back. The pack on her back inexplicably tightened, pulling her sideways. She staggered, barely catching herself from falling. She whirled to face whatever was behind her, the contents of her pack spilled in an arch over the meadow as if it had been cut open. Something scuttled in the shadows of a felled tree, something like a ghost that hid its features behind a cowl of writhing shadows. It was dressed differently from the others—a square black mantle across its shoulders. It drew back a corporeal sword—a sword that emitted its own darkness, sticky and oozing—and stabbed at her. Reeling in horror, she threw herself back and landed hard.
The sword stirred the air before her face. The wraith screamed in frustration, the sound tearing her in two. Black emptiness swirled around those horrible eyes. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t move. It arched the sword above its head. She tried to scramble back, but her body refused to obey her desperate commands.
She was going to die.
With a war cry, Alorica lunged at the wraith, bashing it with her pack. It shattered like torn shadows and whipped back to form in the space of a blink. Alorica danced out of reach as the creature fixed its malevolent gaze on her. Venna linked her arms under Larkin’s and hauled her back as the wraith spun, sword slamming into the ground where they had been. The grasses turned a brittle, crumbling black. A mailed hand reached for them, sizzling and smoking when it crossed into the sunlight. Hissing, the wraith jerked back into the shadows.
“Idiot!” Alorica’s eyes were wild and furious. “Why didn’t you run?”
“Don’t look into its eyes,” Larkin warned.
“We have to get in the trees!” Venna dragged Larkin to her feet and pushed her in the right direction.
Becoming more corporeal by the second, the wraith gnashed and shrieked, pacing on the shadow’s edge like a predator at the bars of its cage.
“They can’t leave the shadows,” Larkin said. “As long as we have the light, we’re all right.” She hoped.
Avoiding anything with a large shadow, they fled to the other
Denan had said there were four of them. Where was the fourth?
Alorica jumped for the nearest bough, Venna a handful of steps behind. They couldn’t see what Larkin could. The fourth wraith lurked in the shadows on the opposite side of the tree. This wraith also wore a mantle, but a corroded crown encircled his cowl. He rose up, his body taking shape even as Venna jumped for the branch, her pack weighing her down.
Larkin surged forward. “Venna! Watch out!”
Venna fell onto her back. Her body went unnaturally still in the wraith’s thrall. It pulled out a smoldering sword.
Her amulet! Larkin yanked it over her head, squeezing so the branches slipped inside her skin. The wraith lifted its poisonous sword. Larkin jumped in front of Venna and held up the amulet, hoping against hope it formed a barrier between them. The wraith’s sword arched toward her with enough force to cleave her in two.
Shadow and smoke slammed into fire and light. Larkin’s arm went numb—whether from the force of the blow or some magic, she didn’t know. The wraith shrieked, the sound driving all hope and warmth from Larkin, nearly sending her to her knees.
She gripped the amulet hard. The pointed branches dug in deep. “No!” she screamed as she swung the shield at the unnatural creature. A convex pulse of golden light slammed into the wraith, its shadows writhing their death throes before disappearing altogether.
“Behind you!” Alorica cried.
Larkin whirled as another wraith came at her. She recognized the square mantle—the wraith from the middle of the meadow. She ducked and brought the amulet up, the shield forming even as she swung it at the creature, connecting with its body. It flew backward, slamming into the tree, where it thrashed as if it had touched acid, its body burning away to shadow again. From the tree’s base, its sickly eyes glared up at her. It was injured, but not dead. And now it was between her and the tree.
“The other two are coming!” Alorica warned from above.
A glance to the west showed the other wraiths nearly across the meadow. Larkin dragged Venna up. “Come on!”
Larkin took a dozen running strides deeper into the forest and looked for a tree with a low enough bough that she could reach it with a running jump. There. Dropping the amulet back around her neck, she changed course, timed her steps, and leaped. She reached the branch and swung, hooking her foot around it and pulling herself up. She turned in time to see Venna leap, but she missed and fell.
“Drop your pack!” Larkin screamed as the wraiths reached the tree’s edge. Venna shrugged out of the pack. Hugging the branch, Larkin stretched for her as she jumped, grabbing hold. Larkin pulled while Venna’s feet scrabbled for purchase along the trunk. She had managed to hook one leg around the bough when the mantled wraith swung its blade. Larkin screamed a warning as the blade whistled past.
It missed. He drew his arm back, stabbing toward them. Larkin grabbed the amulet dangling in front of her, squeezing hard. Golden light danced as the wraith’s blade connected with her shield. The wraith screamed in frustration, then prowled around the tree’s base with the others, their steps eerily silent.
Still holding the amulet, Larkin whispered, “We need to get higher.”
Venna groaned. Moving carefully, they made their way to a sturdy branch beyond the wraiths’ reach. Venna sat with her back against the trunk, her legs dangling on either side of the bough. In the twilight, Larkin could make out the differences between the three. Their unnatural cloaks were all a little different. One was bigger and brawnier than the others; one was small, almost petite. The mantled one seemed to be in charge, for the others followed when it pointed back toward Alorica’s tree.
“They should be gone by morning,” Larkin whispered as she dropped to straddle the branch. Her hands came away damp, and she wiped them on her skirt. “I think we’re going to be all right.”
“Larkin.” Venna’s voice sounded strained.
There was a steady drizzling sound. Larkin scooted closer, her hands almost slipping on the wet bough—except it wasn’t raining. She lifted her hands to her face. There was just enough light to make out the smears of blood on her palms.
The wraith hadn’t missed. Its blade had sliced Venna’s foot.
Larkin stared at the blood, Denan’s warnings pounding through her head, especially the warning about poisoned blades. She scooted close enough that her knees touched Venna’s. “How bad is it?”
Venna tucked her bloody foot between them. “It burns like fire.” Blood bubbled up through the slice in her boot. Larkin moved with steady slowness as she removed the boot and sock, revealing shredded muscle and ligaments from the pad of the foot all the way to the heel. The wound itself appeared scorched, and the blood was tainted black.
“Venna? Larkin?” a faint, tremulous voice called—Alorica.
“Don’t go down!” Larkin called out a warning. “The wraiths are still here.”
The mantled wraith whipped toward the sound and called out something in a shrieking voice. The other wraith answered in kind. Larkin and Venna cringed at the sound.
“They can communicate,” Venna whispered.
“Denan says they were men once.” She could feel the baleful glare of one of them, like rot moldering in her veins.
Alorica made a panicked sound. “What are we going to do?”
Now she wanted Larkin’s advice? Anger flooded through her. “Stay put until morning. The pipers will come for us.”
Larkin turned back to Venna’s injury.
Venna panted. “How deep is it?”
Mama and Nesha were the ones trained to deal with this sort of thing, not Larkin. “It’s too dark to really tell.” Afraid Venna would hear the lie in her voice, she added quickly, “We need to stop the bleeding.” She tore off the sleeve of her dress and turned it inside out—it was cleaner on the inside. “Try to hold still.”
Larkin straightened Venna’s leg so her foot rested on Larkin’s thigh. She braced herself and wrapped the sleeve tight. Venna screamed, the sound like a knife to the unnatural stillness of the night. Alorica called out to them, but Larkin ignored her, continuing even as Venna succumbed to sobs. When she was done, Larkin tore half the sleeve back and tied it off.
“I’m done.” She was shaking, hands sticky with blood.
“What’s going on?” Alorica sobbed. “Larkin, please, answer me!”
“Venna’s hurt,” Larkin managed. “I had to stop the bleeding.”
“How is she hurt? Where?”
As if in answer, Venna pitched forward. Bracing herself, Larkin barely managed to catch her. Venna’s whole body convulsed. “Venna!” she cried as she tried to hold the other girl up, but she was slipping. The shaking stopped, leaving Larkin with nothing but dead weight. They started sliding to the left. If Larkin didn’t let go, they were both going to fall.
“Talk to me!” Alorica demanded.
If Larkin lived through this, she was going to strangle Alorica. Digging in her right heel, Larkin cried, “Venna!”
Venna gasped as if coming awake and curled forward, grabbing the branch. When Larkin was sure the other girl wasn’t going to fall, she leaned back to center herself. She stood carefully and maneuvered behind Venna. If she had another fit, it would be easier to hold her from behind. She wrapped her arms around Venna and pulled her close.
“Larkin,” Alorica wailed.
“Shut it!” Larkin screamed back.
Alorica finally went silent.
“Why didn’t you tell us of the wraiths?” Venna asked.
“I tried, but the magic stopped me.” For the first time, she had a little empathy for Denan.
Venna accepted this without question. “The blade—it was poisoned.”
“How do you know?” Larkin asked in surprise.
“I can feel it,” Venna said through clenched teeth. “It?
“You’re going to be fine.” Larkin wasn’t sure if she was comforting herself or Venna. “We just have to make it till morning.”
“Do you have a knife?”
“A knife?” Larkin was still trying to catch her breath. “No. We lost it when we dropped the packs.”
“I need you to cut it off,” Venna said between gritted teeth, “before it’s too late.”
“Cut what off?”
“My foot!”
Horrified, Larkin shook her head. “The pain is addling your brain.”
Venna whimpered. “Please, you don’t understand. It’s killing me.”
“You’d only bleed to death! There has to be an antidote. Denan said he would come for us at nightfall. They should reach us before morning.”
Venna slumped in Larkin’s arms, the back of her head resting on Larkin’s shoulder, her skin damp and hot.
“You’re going to be all right,” Larkin whispered. “Denan swore he’d be here by morning. He’ll help you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
For a time, there was only Venna’s ragged breathing and the distant sound of Alorica sobbing. Larkin sat in vigil, watching the last light of day die, falling to total darkness. Though she couldn’t hear or see them, she could feel the wraiths stalking them like death. Horrible as they were, not seeing them was worse.
“You want to know why I helped you, back in Hamel?” Venna sounded parched, her voice heavy. “You never needed friends—you had Bane and Nesha—but I did, and you were the closest thing I ever had.”
Larkin felt a surge of guilt. Until recently, she’d never been close with Venna. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend.”
“Talk to me.” Venna wiped her cheeks. “I can’t stand the silence.”
The only thing Larkin could think to do was sing, like her mother used to when they were hiding from her father. Larkin sang all Sela’s favorite lullabies, her tears wetting Venna’s hair. She even hummed Mama’s special melody, the one that had no words.