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Fourteen

R uby watched the trees rush past and realized something shocking: she missed the shadows.

She had been so terrified of them the first time she appeared in Slate’s void. But now, nestled against Slate’s cool chest as he sprinted through the forest, she found she kept searching for the shadows dripping off the branches.

There were none. Which was… good. Wasn’t it? Before Ruby stepped into his void, she would have said it meant safety. Now she ached for them. She ached for Slate’s whole realm: the twisty, crumbling castle, the dark forest, and his deceptively soft nest.

It would be an adjustment, to come back. For all she wished the town would warm to her, she had long since accepted it wouldn’t happen. But Slate…

His arm curled protectively over her head as they passed a series of low branches.

Ruby smiled against his chest. Slate was warming to her. His growls had gotten so much less frequent, and he touched her so softly, even when he was holding her face down on her bed. Even when he was visibly holding himself back from devouring her.

Not that he would want her there all the time. He liked his solitude, as he said. And he seemed genuinely disturbed by her short lifespan. Even if he did want her to stay, she doubted he would allow it for the very same reasons why she had never adopted a pet rat—their lives were too damn short.

“We are coming up to them,” Slate warned. “Their stench is getting closer.”

Ruby nodded, reaching down to touch the dagger hidden under her dress.

Back to the issue at hand: the demons they were running toward.

She hoped the dog spirit was okay. If he wasn’t, she would join Slate in ripping these demons apart.

Her magic was weaker in the mortal realm—she could already feel it fade inside her—but she would burn all the magic she had to make them pay.

She looked up at Slate. “If they hurt that dog, I’m going to fry their skin from their bones.”

Slate’s eyes widened behind his mask. He let out a low, amused rumble.

“Not if I beat you to it,” he promised.

If Ruby wasn’t so worried, she would have smiled. It wasn’t in her nature to harm; she was a helpful witch. But for these demons, she would allow it.

A sharp yip made them both jerk. Ruby struggled against his grip, fighting to get to the ground.

“Stay close,” he growled as he lowered her to the forest floor.

She took the dagger out of her thigh holster and nodded. She stared around the trees, wishing that she had been more serious about hunting. Knowing how to make traps for birds and rabbits didn’t feel worth much with demons waiting to jump on her.

Slate slowed. Ruby looked up to see him stumble to a stop at the mouth of an old, ruined cottage. The straw and wood had rotted away, leaving only a stone archway, a gate, and the impression of a foundation.

Slate grunted.

“What is it?” Ruby asked. Something was itching at the back of her head, her fingers tingling like they did after she cast a spell. She shook her fingers out, suddenly sweating around her dagger. They were itching to touch the archway, she realized.

She stepped up beside him and reached up to touch the stones scored with age and moss.

Slate started, “This was once?—”

Another loud yip rang through the forest. Then an alarmed screech, followed by pattering paws.

The dog spirit burst through the trees, its transparent tongue lolling. It sprinted through the remains of the cottage, and a half-dozen angry yowls went up.

Shade demons appeared in the trees behind him, their ashy skin crackling with rage.

“ The dog ruined it ,” one of them rasped. “ Kill the spirit! ”

“ We can still do it ,” the next one argued, his voice so full of spikes Ruby shuddered. “ Set it off! Set it off! ”

Before Ruby could ask what it was, a giant net fell through the trees. It slammed into the remains of the cottage, taking the stone archway out with it.

Slate’s strong arm wrapped around Ruby, shoving her back just before the net came down over her head. But his own arm got caught, and he slammed into the ground with a roar.

Ruby tumbled to the ground, already confused even as the breath whooshed out of her. It was just a net. What could make Slate roar like that?

The dog spirit ran to her side, barking. It nosed at her side as Ruby stumbled up and gasped.

The net wasn’t made of ropes, like she had assumed. It was knotted together with some strange black vine pricked with white flowers, pinning Slate’s arm to the ground with an unnatural force. His skin blistered under its touch, deep burns scoring into the skin.

The stench of burned flesh filled the air. The dog spirit barked wildly, its teeth bared.

The demons shrieked with disbelief and laughter. Except for the one who had ordered the net to fall.

“ Only his arm ,” the shade demon yelled. “ He’ll get through that in a second! Attack! ”

Several of them started to fly toward him. Ruby ran ahead, throwing herself over Slate’s arm and slicing at the ropes.

Slate snarled. He was already ripping with her, his fingers blistering and his claws cracking as he tore the net from his skin.

The dog spirit barked louder. Ruby could barely hear it over the demons shrieking, which got closer and closer until?—

The net snapped. Slate roared so loud her ears rang and leaped over her, covering her with his body.

He shoved her into his chest. For a moment, Ruby saw nothing but pale skin and listened as he twisted and clawed at the demons descending.

Then his arm shifted, and Ruby could see it all.

There were three demons left. A fourth was crumbling against a tree, crisping the leaves as it burned to dust. A fifth was in Slate’s crushing grip, scrabbling at Slate’s burned hand. The dog spirit was barking madly, trying to bite a demon and only succeeding in bumping it backward.

One of the remaining demons screeched and dove at Slate’s back.

Ruby slammed him with a fireball. It was so sudden and so bright it made everyone in the clearing glance her way, even the demon getting his neck wrung.

The demon that was hit with Ruby’s fireball screamed and fell to the forest floor. Its skin started to crack, its bones caving in until there was nothing left.

Ruby panted, shocked. She had never cast something so powerful in the mortal realm before. And it had come so quickly , no build-up of warmth, just immediate inferno.

But there was no time for surprise. She turned to the remaining two demons, who had hesitated at her fireball.

“I will give you one chance to retreat,” she said gravely.

The pair looked at each other. Then they shrieked and ran at her.

“Ruby,” Slate growled.

Ruby concentrated. Flames welled in front of her palms and shot out to coat the demons, who stumbled to their knees and turned into dust.

Just one demon left now. Ruby turned toward the last demon, who was getting its neck crushed in Slate’s grip.

The demon clawed at Slate’s hands, even as its arms began to crumble.

“ You… betrayed us ,” it choked. “ Supposed to be… guide to lost souls. But you were too busy sleeping. Want… you… to suffer… as we… ”

Slate’s fingers closed around a fistful of ash. The demon was dispersed in the wind.

The dog spirit bounded up, barking. It was shockingly loud in the suddenly quiet forest.

“Hush,” Ruby told him. “It’s all?—”

She didn’t get a chance to finish. Slate grabbed her shoulders then her chin, twisting her to examine her.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded.

“Am I hurt?” She touched his arm, which was still smoking with burns. It had traveled all the way up his black markings and onto the pale skin above his elbow. “Slate, your arm is charcoal!”

“It will heal.” Slate cupped her face, his dark eyes boring into hers like he was trying to sense if she was lying about not being hurt. Heat radiated off his palm, his skin crisping against Ruby’s cheek.

Slate hissed in pain and dropped her face angrily. “Damned shades.”

Ruby stepped toward the shattered remains of the cottage. The net was still lying across it, stopping at the broken stone archway.

“What is that?” Ruby asked, pointing at the flowery net.

Slate ghosted his hand over his burned arm. “Malblossom. It is toxic to Skullstalkers.”

“Toxic?” Ruby swallowed. Malblossom rang a bell. Demon hunters kept some in a pouch, just in case. She once overheard one saying he hoped he never had to use it.

She took his arm carefully, wary of the burns from the net and the drying blood from his hunt. “What do we need to do?”

“Nothing.” He tugged his arm out of her grip. “It is just my arm. It will heal on its own.”

He looked around the broken cottage, his tail lashing. At first, Ruby thought he was glaring at the net. Then she noticed his eyes were strangely soft behind his mask. His shadows were flickering slowly, agitated but not angry. The slow sway looked almost… sad.

Ruby bent down and touched the stacked stones that were once the archway. “What is this place?”

Slate huffed a loud breath through his nose. “This… This was Paimon’s. When he was a human.”

A cold chill ran down Ruby’s spine. She had never heard of this place. It was off the main paths, and no one ever dared venture away from them lest they get stolen by the Bygone.

The dog spirit nudged her hand, pulling her out of her shock. She stroked its head distractedly, struck by the idea that time wasn’t as long as she thought, and it was unfolding right in front of her.

“I should have visited him more,” Slate said gruffly. “I should have asked him how he was faring. I should have kept an eye on that damn dog.”

The dog spirit barked and jumped up at him.

Slate growled, holding his injured arm away from the dog’s reach. “Hush! Why do you not call to any of my senses? Why do you have nowhere to be?”

The dog spirit licked his burned elbow.

Ruby pulled it away by the scruff, her fingers almost meeting through its ghostly skin. The dog was even less corporeal in this realm. She could hardly see it anymore.

She held the dog firmly and looked up at Slate’s burned arm. “We need to clean you up.”

“I’ll be fine,” Slate said. He gave his arm a shake, flicking his own ashy skin to the forest floor.

Ruby grimaced. “I can do it fast. Even if your arm heals, you’re covered in blood from your?—”

Slate roared. “I said I’ll be fine!”

Ruby stepped back, shocked. He had never roared at her like that before. Even in those first days when most things she did annoyed him, he only ever snapped. He never yelled.

The dog spirit whined, its head cocking.

Slate panted, shoulders heaving. For a fearful moment, Ruby thought he might lash out and put his fist through a tree, maybe snap a trunk with his tail.

Then he sagged. His black eyes drifted shut, showing his thin, pale eyelids.

“They were right,” he said dully. “I did betray them. Those souls needed me, and I left them to wither into shades because… what? I was busy sleeping ?”

“You didn’t sense them,” Ruby tried, stroking the dog spirit so he’d stay calm. “You would have gone to them if you sensed them.”

“And yet I didn’t.” Slate’s tail lashed, stirring up leaves. “I am so disconnected from my own void that I didn’t sense that somebody had entered it. What kind of guide am I if I let my wanderers rot alone in the forest?”

Ruby couldn’t come up with an answer. She had never seen such a mournful sight as Slate, huge and powerful and afraid of nothing, slumping in defeat in the ruins of his old friend’s home.

She gathered the dog spirit in her arms, blinking at the strangeness of its near weightlessness. Then she stepped up cautiously beside Slate.

“Come on,” she said gently. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Slate glared. But it was a soft glare, and it soon fell to take in the blood drying over his skin. Some of it had baked into the net burns.

He sighed and raised a claw to rip a tear into his void.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Ruby said. She batted his hand away. Then, after some thought, she pushed the dog spirit into his arms.

“ I’ll get the portal,” she said.

She bent to slide her dagger out of its holster. She expected to find Slate glaring again when she straightened, but when she looked over, he was watching her with something so wondrous her breath stopped in her chest.