Page 62
Story: A House of Cloaks & Daggers
That was odd.
The magic had never made a sound before, not outside of my own head.
Not me, not me, not me,it sang.
I willed it to go away and leave me alone, but the warning gave me a moment’s notice. Time enough to throw myself out of the way as the wind changed direction and the smell of rotting death filled my nose, barrelling straight towards me as the caenim lunged from the shadows.
Chapter twenty-four
Caenim
The caenim were asslow as I’d imagined when I had seen the overlarge figure sauntering down the main road through Belgrave.
Perhaps it set a careful pace due to its blindness, in order to avoid tripping over obstacles it couldn’t see and making itself vulnerable to its prey. Either way, I was not about to hang around and wait for that to happen.
Running for the road, I jumped over unearthed roots as small as steps and darted around trees, leaving a long and winding trail of my scent for the caenim to take its sweet time following. It was the best I could do, considering I didn’t even have a baseball bat at my disposal, and I could not return to the House.
But I couldn’t go home, either.
That had been my intention—to return through the gateway to the human world, where the absence of magic haddulled the kernel of poison inside of me. And maybe where any last traces of me would mysteriously vanish between one place and the next.
I didn’t know what I would do with the caenim tracking me all the way to the High King’s safe house, though. Soulmate or not, I didn’t think there was enough perfume or dung in the world to cover my scent there.
Planning my future took a backseat to my present as soon as I broke through the last of the trees and skidded onto the dirt road.
Caenim—dozens of them—were trudging through the forest on the other side of the road. Forked tongues flicking out of their eyes, they caught my scent alongside the death reek of their comrade as the wind came from behind me, tousling my loose auburn curls, and their black and empty mouths pulled back into wide grins.
I swore violently and didn’t care that nobody heard me.
The Malum had sent a small army into Sthiara.
Returning to the House was not an option. Not if Wren was working with the Malum to overthrow the High King.
Lucais’s vision through the Oracle had contained memories, as if the concept of soulmates defied all logic of time and space, but I was almost certain that mine had been a premonition. A warning.
And I had about five seconds to make a choice that would change that future.
I turned towards the township of Sthiara, knowing full well that there was every chance the caenim had already raided it.
My eyes watched the thicket on either side of the road as I ran, an action that was strangely familiar, like checking for kangaroos while speeding down an outback highway in a sedan.In either situation, I stood to sustain the most damage without a weapon or a bull bar.
Thankfully, none of them jumped out at me, so I decided to risk a glance over my shoulder and immediately regretted it.
Two small armies were joining from both sides of the woodland in the middle of the road, plodding after me at a disconcertingly confident pace.
I realised that I probably should have asked questions about them before I left. How many would have to be killed in order for me to be safe again? Could the Malum create more? Was that why Wren was working with them, because he had access to magic that they didn’t, and they made perfect, blind scapegoats?
The wind changed again, blowing towards me from Sthiara, and my heart withered against the smell of death the breeze carried from the little town.
Caenim attack, Malum infestation, or something else that was very wrong.
I couldn’t go into town when there was every chance that a dozen more of the caenim were waiting there, so I cast a backwards glance to ascertain how much distance I’d gained before I ran back into the forest.
My calves were burning, muscles threatening to seize up, and it made me clumsy.
Sharp branches sliced at my skin, leaves caught and broke off in my hair, and the skin of my toes started to bleed as I tripped and stumbled over roots and rocks.
A hungry, feral growl sounded from behind me as the coppery tang of my blood tainted the air. They were much closer than they had been before.
The magic had never made a sound before, not outside of my own head.
Not me, not me, not me,it sang.
I willed it to go away and leave me alone, but the warning gave me a moment’s notice. Time enough to throw myself out of the way as the wind changed direction and the smell of rotting death filled my nose, barrelling straight towards me as the caenim lunged from the shadows.
Chapter twenty-four
Caenim
The caenim were asslow as I’d imagined when I had seen the overlarge figure sauntering down the main road through Belgrave.
Perhaps it set a careful pace due to its blindness, in order to avoid tripping over obstacles it couldn’t see and making itself vulnerable to its prey. Either way, I was not about to hang around and wait for that to happen.
Running for the road, I jumped over unearthed roots as small as steps and darted around trees, leaving a long and winding trail of my scent for the caenim to take its sweet time following. It was the best I could do, considering I didn’t even have a baseball bat at my disposal, and I could not return to the House.
But I couldn’t go home, either.
That had been my intention—to return through the gateway to the human world, where the absence of magic haddulled the kernel of poison inside of me. And maybe where any last traces of me would mysteriously vanish between one place and the next.
I didn’t know what I would do with the caenim tracking me all the way to the High King’s safe house, though. Soulmate or not, I didn’t think there was enough perfume or dung in the world to cover my scent there.
Planning my future took a backseat to my present as soon as I broke through the last of the trees and skidded onto the dirt road.
Caenim—dozens of them—were trudging through the forest on the other side of the road. Forked tongues flicking out of their eyes, they caught my scent alongside the death reek of their comrade as the wind came from behind me, tousling my loose auburn curls, and their black and empty mouths pulled back into wide grins.
I swore violently and didn’t care that nobody heard me.
The Malum had sent a small army into Sthiara.
Returning to the House was not an option. Not if Wren was working with the Malum to overthrow the High King.
Lucais’s vision through the Oracle had contained memories, as if the concept of soulmates defied all logic of time and space, but I was almost certain that mine had been a premonition. A warning.
And I had about five seconds to make a choice that would change that future.
I turned towards the township of Sthiara, knowing full well that there was every chance the caenim had already raided it.
My eyes watched the thicket on either side of the road as I ran, an action that was strangely familiar, like checking for kangaroos while speeding down an outback highway in a sedan.In either situation, I stood to sustain the most damage without a weapon or a bull bar.
Thankfully, none of them jumped out at me, so I decided to risk a glance over my shoulder and immediately regretted it.
Two small armies were joining from both sides of the woodland in the middle of the road, plodding after me at a disconcertingly confident pace.
I realised that I probably should have asked questions about them before I left. How many would have to be killed in order for me to be safe again? Could the Malum create more? Was that why Wren was working with them, because he had access to magic that they didn’t, and they made perfect, blind scapegoats?
The wind changed again, blowing towards me from Sthiara, and my heart withered against the smell of death the breeze carried from the little town.
Caenim attack, Malum infestation, or something else that was very wrong.
I couldn’t go into town when there was every chance that a dozen more of the caenim were waiting there, so I cast a backwards glance to ascertain how much distance I’d gained before I ran back into the forest.
My calves were burning, muscles threatening to seize up, and it made me clumsy.
Sharp branches sliced at my skin, leaves caught and broke off in my hair, and the skin of my toes started to bleed as I tripped and stumbled over roots and rocks.
A hungry, feral growl sounded from behind me as the coppery tang of my blood tainted the air. They were much closer than they had been before.
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