Raiten

  I wake up to the sound of slow, steady breaths. Kiren snores next to me, leg draped diagonally over my chest and foot stuffed in my face. Gently, I push the heel off and haunch up on my elbows. Saegor lies belly-flat, wrapped in his blanket like a corpse. Zyla slumbers just next to him, her shoulder propped against a log. Her sleeping form looks as though it tries to act sentry in the night.

  A sparse few stars now peak through the ink black of the briar canopy—stray lights in the dark. But looking beyond the veil, blue moonlight pierces all else—like a sword of Aether sundering our realm. Fireflies blink green next to our slumbering party.

  My head pounds. I imagine this is what a hangover must feel like. Suppressing the urge to groan, I rise slowly and take lumbering steps away from the warmth of our snuffed campfire, which still breathes smoke into the sky.

  I hear a stream and blissfully, my ears do not deceive me tonight. I find it snaking a few steps away from the path, small and crystal green—its waves blinking like emeralds in the light of the stars and the full moon.

  My knees buckle. They sink deep into the mudbank, rolling dirt onto the black of the Catolican uniform. Leaning over the water, I witness the dark wobbles of my reflection in the creek.

  When did I become so haggard?

  My eyes are puffy from lack of sleep. My hair is an overgrown mess—a tangle, no, a jungle of coarse blackness that smells of sweat and blood and all the other shit that I’ve fallen into over the past few weeks. The tassels of my uniform now come frayed and undone at the ends—many of them cut short from my battle with the Lady.

  Battle? More like a beat down. It's a miracle you’re alive.

  The water feels cool to the touch. A needed coolness. I drench myself in it like a man possessed, washing away all the grime. Desperately, I splash the water on my face, my hands cupping and throwing until I just give up and bury my head in the creek. The liquid fills my ears and runs havoc on my hair. But when I emerge, shaking my head like some wild bear, I feel alive.

  “Needed that, did you?” a voice broaches from behind. I don’t need to turn to know who it is. I feel his vibrations through the ground.

  “You came through,” is all I can say.

  He makes a sort of hmph sound that indicates I shouldn’t be surprised.

  “Of course I would.”

  “I wasn’t so sure.”

  The ground next to me rumbles and Umbrahorn emerges, splattering some more mud on my cheek. I’m not even bothered by it. Just gives me an excuse to splash more water on my face.

  “Where else would I have gone?” the shark asks, almost as if talking to himself. “Erot? No, not without the cure. Couldn’t face the old bastard.”

  I scrutinize him for a moment, but he’s so genuine in his response that I have to give it up.

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  “You really do care about him, don’t you?”

  “I wasn’t lying. I owe him one. And I won’t come back till I can deliver.”

  “That’s—that’s good Umbrahorn. I’m glad.”

  We sit in silence for a moment as I continue rubbing the mud off my face. The water freshens up my eyes too. The headache lessens.

  “How long was I out this time?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “A day. We beat the Lady. Saegor had her mangled corpse sealed away in some pocket dimension or something.” He makes a disgusted face at that. Then, the hammerhead sniffs. “We made a decent bit of progress. Nearing the end of the Blightbriars now, actually. Oh, here by the way.” He belches out the amulet sack in my hand. My eyes widen as I rifle through the contents, heart settling once it realizes that all three remaining amulets are untouched. Safety is finally in my grasp.

  Thank God. Or whoever’s up there.

  I start chuckling out of sheer relief. “I’m assuming you carried me on your back.”

  “I protested of course. It's not a very Great Spirit thing to just carry the wounded like some common packhorse, but I—”

  I slap his hide. “Thank you, Umbrahorn.”

  He stammers and stumbles to a stop. I smile as his face contorts in his confusion, his black eyes going buggy.

  “You’re… welcome?”

  “I’m being serious. Without you, I’d be dead. A few times now, actually. And what have I done for you?” I ask, barking a laugh at the realization. I shake my head. “I shouldn’t have forced you along. Not at the fortress. It wasn’t right. You’re correct—I let my grudges eclipse what matters most. We’re almost lucky that the witch is working with Sorayvlad. It aligns our goals once more. Otherwise— well, I am as… selfish as you think. As petty.”

  I would’ve abandoned Dandy for Masaru.

  And still, I’ll have to be more petty.

  More selfish.

  I’ve been pushing it off in my mind since I woke. However, now that my head has cleared, Thraevirula’s dream gnaws at me. Not the end bit where she did… that to me. My mind won’t even try to unpack that.

  One thing remains clear: I had a sibling.

  I had… a sibling.

  And they too were taken from me, according to Thrae.

  As if I needed any more reasons to hate the Elders.

  My fists clench. Droplets of water squeeze off the knuckles like how my blood used to, back in the tower when I allowed my overgrown nails to bite into the skin just for the sake of quenching my rage. What an angry little shit I was.

  I am.

  Umbrahorn’s fin slaps my back too. “It's fine, Raiten. It's good to get into a scrap every now and then. Bonded creatures often do. All part of a healthy relationship.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Bonded eh?”

  He shrugs, almost embarrassed. “You’re the only one who can ride me somewhat decently—besides Erot. So, we are basically bonded at this rate. Means that we’re like uh… connected. As spirit and human. I don’t really understand how it works to be honest. ”

  Bonded. I’ve heard of the term vaguely. Spirit mancers often employ it. Maybe I’ll Zyla more about that. Assuming she doesn’t just ignore me or berate me like usual.

  “Besides,” Umbrahorn mutters. “Based on the fact that your Masaru is working with a witch who is willing to create child monsters for her little plague army, I think your rage is pretty understandable. I can’t imagine what those Elders did to you.”

  I shake my head, eyes peering once more in the creek.

  That look in my mother’s eyes when she had to accept the deal…

  Now, my nails do bite into the skin. And blood mixes with the water I purified myself with.

  “You don’t know the half of it.”