Page 19 of Skalterra By Nightmare (The Skalterra Duology #1)

Liam didn’t bring up graduation night, Linsey, or forests anymore, and I didn’t mention his cousin Riley unless someone else brought him up first. There was a new understanding between us, and I started to look forward to him bringing me my daily bagel sandwich as the start of his shifts.

Gams noticed our growing friendship, and took it upon herself to crawl out of her workshop for forty minutes each day to watch the store so Liam and I could start having our lunch breaks together. Liam came to every lunch prepared with fresh mock-interview questions for me. They ranged from practical to unhinged. I’d be answering a question about my graduate school plans, and then he’d smack me with a question asking me to determine which volcano would win in a Battle Royale style fight.

Meanwhile, it took Galahad three days to summon me back to Skalterra.

He pulled me unceremoniously through whatever veil existed between our two realms as I was brushing my teeth in my room. The taste of mint evaporated from my mouth, and I materialized on a wooden deck.

Wind pulled at my blue hair, and I stumbled to catch my footing as the floor rolled beneath me. Steep cliffs rose up on either side of me, lit by the gentle red glow of the steamed Skal escaping from twin smokestacks that towered overhead.

I was on a steamboat.

“Fascinating.”

Tamora’s cool voice greeted me, and I found the Baron leaning against the bronze railing of the upper deck, looking down at me. Red light from orbs of skalflame that floated around her sent fire-like highlights through her hair. Her red curls hung free, bouncing around shoulders left bare by a blouse that seemed to barely be holding itself up.

“So she comes with blue hair every time? That’s a bit unusual, isn’t it?”

“It’s what she likes,”

Galahad grunted. He stood somewhere behind Tamora, obscured by the lip of the deck. I backpedaled to get a better view of him. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his duster jacket, and a trace of concern marred the irritated look on his face.

“What’s happening?”

I asked. The river was wide enough to fit another two or three boats across its width, but the cliffs towering on either side of us made me feel claustrophobic and trapped. Twin crescent moons winked down at me from between the dark lines of the cliffs.

“I’m taking you and your friends to Riverstead, as promised.”

Tamora smiled sweetly.

“We’ve got another few days, of course. Traveling upriver can be a real slog. I thought poor Galahad was going to be laid up the entire trip, but look! He rallied just for us and managed to bring you across the Rift.”

“Where’s Fana?”

I looked at Galahad as I said it. The deck where I stood was barren, lined with a low bronze rail. A set of bronze double doors led into the steamboat’s main cabin, and a stairway on either side of me rose to meet the upper deck.

“And the others?”

“Fana is safe, don’t you worry. You’re off-duty tonight. Galahad brought you here for me.”

Tamora shook her hair out. I didn’t like what she was saying, and I definitely didn’t like the way she was staring at me, like I was some sort of bug she was about to pin to a board and study.

“Lucid Nightmares are exceptionally rare. Those that do come through Skalterra usually have enough sense to keep what they are secret. They’re illegal across all seven provinces, and the other night, you made it clear why.”

“And the others?”

I was still looking at Galahad.

“They’re resting.”

Something about his frown told me he didn’t want me here, which could only mean Tamora had forced him to summon me. The red of the floating lights made him look all the more serious.

“Tell me, Nightmare,”

Tamora purred.

“what did you say your name was?”

Galahad gave me the tiniest shake of his head, but I didn’t need the reminder.

“Blue.”

I grinned up at Tamora. The insincere expression gave me a small hit of false confidence, and I vaguely wondered if that’s why Liam was always smiling despite everything he’d been through.

“Sure.”

Her smile tightened into an impatient grimace.

“Well, Blue, this boat ride has been ever so boring. I haven’t been properly entertained since you showed off in my court three nights ago. I was wondering if you could give us a demonstration?”

I looked to Galahad again for guidance, but he was passive and unreadable.

“But I hurt Galahad last time.”

“He’ll be fine. We’ve got plenty of Skal to keep both him and you fueled and alive,”

Tamora assured me.

“Now, have I introduced you properly to Titus yet?”

Her bodyguard stepped forward. He’d been standing too far back for me to see him, but now I had an unimpeded view of all six and a half feet of him. He stared down at me from over harsh cheekbones, and his muscles rippled beneath tattoos and chest armor as he vaulted over the railing to drop to my deck level.

He landed with a heavy thud that shook the wooden planks beneath me, and I stumbled back.

“Hi, Titus,” I gulped.

“Don’t worry, Blue,”

Tamora sang.

“It’s just a play-match. No Skal-weapons, and while Titus does play rough, if the worst happens, you’ll wake up back at home unharmed.”

The scars on the palm of my hand itched, and I glared over Titus’s shoulder at Galahad. I did not want to waste one of my dwindling lives on a demonstration match against the human embodiment of protein shakes and creatine.

Unfortunately, like nearly everything else that had happened in Skalterra, it didn’t seem like I was going to be given much of a choice. Titus lurched forward, and I stumbled away.

“But what if I hurt him?”

I called up to Tamora, dancing out of the way of Titus’s massive fists. He chased after me with lumbering steps.

“This is what I pay him for. He’ll be fine. Now show me your tricks, Nightmare! This voyage has been boring. Entertain us!”

Titus already had me cornered against the railing. Water rushed behind me, split by the bow of the steamboat, and my blue hair twisted in the wind as Titus grinned.

He fell forward in a fresh attack with his hands outstretched, and I let my bone shards burst free of my forearms. I gritted my teeth against the hot, slicing pain as sharp bone shot through muscle and skin.

The boney razors glinted red with my own blood as I raised them in defense, and Titus howled as they dug through the meat of his arms.

“Boring!”

Tamora called.

“You already showed me that one! I want something new!”

Titus grabbed a bone spike in each of his massive hands and snapped them like twigs. I willed more muscle mass into my legs and launched at him, tackling him around his middle.

Heavy, I thought to myself. Be heavy.

I found the same warm trickle of Skal in my chest that I’d felt the other night. I drew on it and felt my limbs turn heavy with muscle. I landed with Titus pinned under me, but his arms were free. He reached out to grab at me, so I willed talon-like claws into my hands and forced both of his arms back to the deck.

His hands glowed red, and a javelin spear materialized in his grip, growing outwards with the pointed-tip towards my face.

“You said no weapons!”

I yelled at Tamora, rolling off of Titus to dodge his attack.

“Oops,”

she called back. Titus hurled the javelin, and I ducked to the side. It splintered into shards of light against the cliff face behind me.

Titus procured two new javelins, hurling them one after the other. I dodged the first one, but the second one followed too quickly. Without time to dodge, I pulled more Skal from that trickling stream in my chest and focused on my leather armor, feeling it grow heavier as it hardened into thick kevlar.

The force of the javelin blow sent me stumbling backwards against the rail, and I looked over my shoulder at the dark river water that swirled below.

“Galahad!”

I called.

“Make her stop this!”

He knew I had limited lives. If he really did need me to protect Fana, then it was in his best interest to make Tamora call off her bodyguard.

There was a heavy thud up above, and I looked up to see Galahad slumped against the upper railing.

“Galahad?”

Titus bore down on me, and I ducked away, leaving him to slam into the railing. He lunged again. I was too slow this time. He caught me around the throat, and I clawed at his calloused hands. His fingers tightened until lights burst in my vision.

“That’s enough, Titus,”

a cool voice warned.

Titus let go, and I dropped to the deck, massaging my neck and forcing air back into my lungs as I gathered my bearings.

The clicking of Tamora’s boots descending the staircase brought my attention back upwards. Her red orbs of light followed her through the air, and I braced myself as she approached.

She leaned down to inspect my chest armor in the glow of her Skal-lights.

“The color changed, didn’t it?”

She tapped on the material, and her eyes narrowed behind her monocle.

“And so did your leather. Galahad, you noticed that the other night, didn’t you? She can change her clothes as well as her anatomy!”

I glanced up at Galahad. He sat on his knees, gripping the bronze railing with both hands and surveying me with the same careful regard he’d held the night in Vanderfall.

Tamora moved to inspect a spike of bloody bone that protruded from my arm. I flinched away, but held my arm steady. Tamora brushed a finger along the edge of the blade, and then turned her hand so I could see the droplet of blood that clung to the cut the shard had left there.

“Very sharp. Does it hurt you as well?”

“No,”

I lied. The twist in her smile told me she didn’t believe me.

“Give me your chest plate.”

“Excuse me?”

I recoiled.

“Your armor. I want to try something.”

The spikes protruding from my arms made unbuckling the kevlar tricky, but I managed to retract them halfway back into my body, hiding my face behind blue hair as I did so Tamora couldn’t see me gritting my teeth in pain.

The kevlar fell away, leaving me shivering on the deck in a sweat-drenched tunic. Titus stood over me with his arms crossed and a triumphant smirk on his lips.

“Fascinating.”

Tamora turned the armor over in her hands.

“This material, is it Keldorian? I’ve never—”

It disintegrated in her hands, and she staggered backwards as black grains of ash slipped between her fingers and disappeared on the river wind.

“Fascinating,”

she murmured again, though there was something darker there.

“I never considered a Nightmare’s apparel to be an extension of their form, but I suppose it makes sense. Galahad, are you seeing this?”

Galahad hobbled down the steps behind her. His face was unreadable under his grizzled gray mane of hair, and he sipped on a bottle of glowing Skal.

“Yes, Baron, it is truly spectacular. Would you please let my Nightmare and, by extension, me, have a rest now?”

He glowered as if I were in trouble, though I wasn’t sure what I had done to offend him. If anyone should be angry, it should be me. I was the one who’d been dragged here just to play the role of a lab rat for Tamora.

Tamora rubbed her fingers together, inspecting what little remained of my chest armor.

“Of course, Galahad.”

She brushed her hands off and straightened up.

“This exercise has left me with plenty to ponder until the next one.”

“Next one?”

I blanched. Tamora winked at me behind her monocle.

“Come, Titus. Let’s let them rest.”

Titus followed Tamora into the double doors that led into the cabin of the steamboat, and I waited until the doors had swung shut before laying into Galahad.

“Are you trying to keep me from making it to the Second Sentinel?”

I staggered to my feet so I could shove my palm in his face.

“I’ve only got three lives left! I’m more than a Nightmare, okay? I have a life back in Keldori! And friends and family, and you’re trying to kill me!”

“Oh, I’m trying to kill you?”

His bushy eyebrows jumped upwards towards his goggles.

“You nearly killed me in the Baron’s mansion the other night. Where do you think your magick comes from? Who do you think pays the price when you use so much of it?”

“How was I supposed to know it was coming from you?”

“All your magick comes from me, girl.”

He gestured with the half-drank Skal bottle in his hands.

“And to use those tricks in front of the Baron, no less—”

“The lady who was trying to murder us and dissolve the barrier between our realities?”

I snapped.

“Yes, so sorry for saving us all.”

A ghastly, rattling howl that sucked what little warmth the Skalterran night had to offer interrupted our argument. Galahad shoved me behind him, and we both scanned the clifftops. A dark shadow glided along the lip of the cliff, its black edges illuminated by the dual moons. It rushed back and forth, as if frustrated, then howled again.

“It’s a rotsbane,”

I breathed.

“It can’t reach you here,”

Galahad said, but I didn’t like the waver in his voice.

“They don’t do well with water.”

“Very reassuring. Thank you,”

I snarled.

“Can I go home now?”

Galahad looked back up at the rotsbane as another shadow joined its side. They sniffed at the red steam that wafted from our smokestacks and howled in tandem, sucking as much of the glowing air into their open mouths as they could.

“No.”

Galahad frowned behind his messy beard.

“You’ll be fine.”

“But—”

“You are not leaving until you learn to feel and stem the flow of magick that you draw from me. I will not be killed because you don’t know how to pace your appetite for Skal.”

My face burned at his words.

“Sure, you won’t be killed, but who gives a crap if some kid from Keldori dies?”

“If you die, it will be in service to the Riftkeepers, and you will be remembered with honor and prestige for your sacrifice.”

“I don’t want honor and prestige, I want to go to college!”

I forced my fingers back into talons, and Galahad grimaced.

“Careful,”

he warned in a low growl.

“If you don’t want me taking your magick, then don’t let me take it!”

Hard scales worked their way up my arms, and Galahad faltered as I drew more of his magick in.

The tiny Skalspring in my chest, it was a tether. Magick ran along its length, connecting me to Galahad and the Skal he’d just drank. My bone shards grew to their full length, and I worked to mentally adjust my tunic as my muscles swelled and my legs lengthened.

Talons forced their way through my fingertips, and muscle rippled under my tunic until I loomed over Galahad. I had no idea what I looked like in this form, I could tell by the way his jaw gaped and his eyes widened that I must be horrifying. He fell to his knees, and I could feel it—the flow of buzzing magick leaving him and filling my every molecule.

I was powerful. I was unstoppable. I was hungry.

I wanted more.

I needed more, and I wondered if I ripped Galahad apart with my talons, if I’d find more Skal inside him.

And then, like a dog finding the limits of its leash at the end of sprint, something yanked me back and choked me. I tried to strike out at Galahad with a muscle-swollen, serrated arm, but some invisible force held me at bay.

Magick receded, and I thrashed against Galahad’s influence.

He was taking the magick back.

“Galahad,”

I choked. I withered as Skal vacated me, and I collapsed in a huddled, weak mess on the deck of the boat. Post-adrenaline fatigue was nothing compared to this post-Skal rush, and I lay shaking in nothing more than a white tunic and brown trousers. My armor and boots faded to ash along with my bone spines. Scales and talons reverted to skin and fingers, and I shuddered, hugging myself with weak, useless arms.

Galahad stood over me, triumphant.

“Did you forget which of us is in charge?”

he growled.

“I’ll admit, I forgot too, for a moment. But you’re right. The magick between us does flow both ways, and only one of us is an actual Magician.”

The door to the main cabin creaked open, and Ferrin’s voice, though groggy with sleep, set my racing heart at ease just slightly. He wouldn’t let Galahad hurt me.

“Galahad, what’s happening? What’s wrong with Wren?”

“She’s fine,”

Galahad thundered.

“I want to go home.”

I curled in on myself, and my hair fell over my face. I hid there, not wanting to look at Galahad or the rotsbane howling on the cliffs. Their song sounded like someone screaming inwards, violently inhaling over strained vocal cords.

“You will. When you finish what I called you here to do. Fana is inside. She needs guarding.”

Galahad’s stomping boots echoed against the wooden planks as he retreated.

“I’ll be in my room. Have Orla bring me a tea, would you? I’m parched.”

Careful hands pulled me into a sitting position, but I kept my head bowed so that I could continue to hide behind a curtain of blue hair.

“Wren, what happened?”

Ferrin asked.

“Are you alright?”

I was still shaking from the aftereffects of so much magick deserting me so quickly. My pride smarted, and my anger flared. But there was something else there too.

Fear.

Not towards Galahad, nor towards the rotsbane that still sang their ghastly songs overhead.

But towards myself, the monster I’d so quickly devolved into, and the insatiable hunger that the monster had brought with it.