As she drowned in the dark envelope of unconsciousness, Nysta was certain she would never wake again.
Feeling herself fade in Chukshene's arms, she almost welcomed the release of a lifetime spent in bitter struggle. But another part of her steeled itself in frustration as she realised Talek's murderers would get away.
That Raste would escape her blade.
The shock of seeing him in Spikewrist still thrummed within her heart. She'd half-convinced herself the wagoner's claim to have seen a red-haired elf was pure fantasy.
Or that his eyes had played him false.
She'd told herself there were more than one red-haired elf in the world. Could even be a dozen in the Deadlands for all she knew. It was a big enough shithole.
Besides, why would Raste be here? It was absurd to think he'd be here just to kill Talek.
Not just absurd.
Unfair.
Because Raste was unique in Lostlight for many reasons, but only one which mattered. The fact he'd once felt the edge of A Flaw in the Glass against his throat and lived to tell the tale.
She could remember it clearly. A cold night with the sharp tang of frost in the air. He'd been drinking heavily with friends and had scuttled into an alley to take a piss.
Sneaking up on him hadn't been a challenge. He could hardly keep himself standing. He had one hand against the wall while the other fumbled with his pants when she slipped the knife up under his chin and rested the blade against the warm skin of his throat.
One slash.
That's all it would have taken to end his life there. To spray his blood with an arcing hiss across the wall.
One slash.
But she hadn't done it. She'd left him weeping in fear, his piss riddling down his leg. He never knew why she was there. Or why she spared his life.
He hadn't even known it was her.
But now she felt an explosive burst of guilt and despair as she realised Talek had suffered for her failures yet again. If only she'd cut that red-haired bastard's throat all those years ago, she could have broken the cursed chains which bound their fates together.
It was this fresh wave of guilt which channeled her to the surface as she rose from the sunken depths of unconsciousness.
Sucked at air as though tasting it for the first time.
Tears burned her eyes as they squeezed free like seeds from a pod.
"It's okay," she heard the spellslinger's voice in her ears. He sounded afraid. "You're fine, Long-ear. You can wake now. It's gone."
The elf cracked her violet eyes open to slits and stared up at him. His face was gaunt, the skin stretched and pale.
Drenched in sweat despite the cold, his breath hung in the air like puffs of smoke. An expression of deep concern frozen on his face.
Or was it pity?
The sharp stink of magic made her nose hairs curl. Pain also beat at her flesh and an intense ache hovered just behind her eyes. Each breath she sucked was enough to almost make her ribs creak.
The elf winced.
Didn't want to think about the bruises which no doubt purpled her body from head to foot. Tried to roll onto her side. A kittenish moan slipped through her teeth before she wrenched it into a low growl of irritation.
Her body felt off. Different. Like it wasn't hers. Her skin felt tight and her muscle tighter. She could taste something bitter in her mouth.
Like copper.
Iron.
Or blood?
Blood would make sense. Maybe she'd bitten her lip.
"What the fuck happened?"
"It's gone," he repeated. He hugged his grimoire tight and stared out across the plain, his eyes wide and close to blank. She'd seen that kind of look a lot of times during her training. When another student had seen something they couldn't deal with and their brain was trying to scrub the memory away. "Whatever it was."
She lifted herself awkwardly into a sitting position.
Her guts felt like they'd been trampled.
And her wrist hurt like a pack of dogs had gnawed on it. Then she remembered the shadows coiling around her hand. Drilling into her flesh.
She looked down at her arm. Chukshene had tried to remove the bracer, so it now hung loosely around her wrist. But her skin looked normal. There was no sign of the darkness which had poured into her flesh. No sign, too, of the wound Gaket's tendril had made as it drilled into skin.
If not for the pain, she might have figured it'd been a dream.
She flexed her fingers into a fist and frowned. Her arm tingled. She squeezed the fist tighter.
Squeezed and released.
Again and again until the tingling stopped. Maybe, she thought, the feeling of being disconnected from her body was just numbness from the cold and poor circulation of her blood.
Deciding that made more sense at the moment than anything else, she scowled up at him in confusion and repeated her question. "What the fuck happened, Chukshene?"
The warlock licked his lips and thought carefully before replying.
She could see something in his expression she couldn't understand. But humans often wore expressions she couldn't figure. Nonetheless, something in his eyes made her hand drift slowly toward the hilt of one of many blades jutting from the dozens of sheaths littering her tattered jacket and pants.
"I won't lie to you, Nysta," he said, hesitation making his voice rasp. "I don't have a clue. It all happened so fast. It was like two shadows went inside you. Like worms, they burrowed into your arm. I didn't know what to do. I tried… I tried to cut them loose, but I couldn't. I'd pretty much given up. There was nothing I could do. I think those things of Gaket's, and whatever that other shit was, fought over which would sink its claws into your brain first. Not a pleasant experience, I'm thinking? I think their aim was to take you over. So, when you woke, you wouldn't be you. That's a hunch. But I don't think I'm too far wrong…"
She felt a moment of horror at the thought of something invading her mind but shook it off. "I ain't feeling any different. Just beat up. Like an ogre danced on my head."
"I'm not surprised. You took a lot of punishment. Not just from the Lichspawn. But afterward. Whatever it was, you fought it. While you were out, you screamed. With wolves and worse creeping about looking for easy meat, I had a hard time keeping you quiet. Even harder time keeping us out of their bellies. We nearly didn't make it. I admit I nearly left you to your fate."
"I don't remember."
"Wouldn't expect you to. I did what I could to keep you safe. I wasn't sure what would happen when you woke, but the good news is I can't see much difference," he said, throwing her a tired smile. "So, you're still ugly."
She scowled. "You stopped it reaching my mind?"
"No."
"No?" Panic fluttered up her throat and she tasted bile. Began to pat herself down, searching. Though she couldn't say for what.
"Relax," he said. His eyes glittered in the light of approaching dawn.
The warlock waited for her to calm, as though listening to the driving rhythm of her heart until it slowed. Then leaned forward to peer deep into her eyes.
As though searching for something.
"What is it? What's there?"
With a shake of his head, he leaned back, relaxing. Forefinger tapping steadily on the top of his grimoire's spine. "Nothing I can see. It's okay. I think. At least for now."
"Then where is it? Why couldn't you kill it?"
"There was nothing I could do," he said. "I expected it to eat you up from the inside, to tell the truth. Was ready to run as fast as my fucking legs could carry me if anything came bursting out of your chest, you know? For a while, it looked like it might do just that. But then it disappeared. Like a shadow in the sun, it faded away. Could be you fought it off? Or maybe it didn't get what it wanted? I'm fucked if I know what it was. But whatever it was, it was old. I could tell that. Ancient, even. While it was strong enough to destroy Veil's Gift, maybe it wasn't powerful enough anymore to fight your will?"
"Make sense, 'lock! Is it gone?"
"I really don't know. Maybe it's still in there, crawling around inside. Too small for me to find. Could be it's just waiting. Waiting for the right time to emerge. Whatever it was, Long-ear, I can't find it in you now. So maybe it's really gone," he said, but there was reluctance in his voice. "But not knowing what it was makes it difficult. Weirdest thing I ever saw. What do you feel, Nysta? Do you feel it's in there at all?"
"I don't know what I feel, Chukshene, but you could say I'm feeling very unsettled."
***
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