Tam's death. The cold rage. The cooperation with Madness. The cost of survival.
Another percent claimed.
Hands grabbed him—Martha and Karn, pulling him to his feet despite his groan of pain.
"The platform," Martha said urgently. "We have to reach it. NOW."
Because the moose's death scream had been heard.
From every direction, Don heard answering calls. Howls. Growls. Roars. The sound of hundreds of tainted creatures responding.
Coming to investigate.
Coming to feed.
"Move!" Diana's voice—weak but still commanding. Thorne had her on her feet, his arm supporting her.
They ran.
Don stumbled forward on legs that barely worked, his broken ribs grinding with each step.
Ahead, through the trees—
The clearing.
And in its center, a circle of ancient stones. Tall as men, carved with runes that glowed faintly with power that had survived millennia. In the center, a flat platform of seamless stone.
The transport platform.
Their salvation.
If it worked.
They burst into the clearing just as the first wave of tainted creatures emerged from the forest behind them.
Wolves. Bears. Deer with antlers like spears. Things that might have been mountain lions once. All corrupted, all hungry, all charging.
"DEFENSIVE CIRCLE!" Diana commanded, collapsing to one knee on the platform.
"HOLD THEM BACK!"
Diana's team formed a perimeter. Thorne with his blades. Sylva with her recovered spear. Ivy with her last arrows. Rowan, battered but unbreaking, fists raised.
The survivors clustered on the platform—Martha, Karn, Aldric, Renna, Gorath, Finn, the Wraith.
And Don, collapsing beside Diana, his body refusing to go further.
Ashwood stood at the platform's center, his staff planted in a groove clearly designed for it, his hands moving in complex patterns.
"How long?!" Thorne shouted, cutting down the first wolf.
"Two minutes!" Ashwood called back, sweat pouring down his face. "Maybe less!"
"WE DON'T HAVE TWO MINUTES!"
The creatures hit the defensive line like a wave.
Thorne's blades spun desperately. Sylva's spear punched through throats. Ivy's arrows flew until her quiver was empty. Rowan's fists broke bones and crushed skulls.
But they were exhausted. Wounded. Breaking.
Blue light began to crawl across the platform's surface, tracing the ancient runes.
"One minute!"
A massive bear broke through, charging at the platform.
Gorath intercepted, catching it in a grapple. Martha joined him, her sword hacking at its back.
Together, they brought it down.
But more kept coming.
The defensive line was collapsing.
"THIRTY SECONDS!"
The platform blazed with light now, runes singing with power.
A wolf broke through entirely, leaping over Thorne's blades, charging straight at Finn.
Don tried to move. Couldn't.
["One more time,"] Madness whispered.
Heat flooded Don's body—borrowed power, dangerous, costly.
His hand formed a knife.
He threw it.
The blade caught the wolf mid-leap, punching through its skull. It dropped dead.
[ENEMY SLAIN: TAINTED WOLF]
[+5 XP]
"TWENTY SECONDS!"
And then—
A sound from the forest.
Not animal. Human.
A scream.
Female.
"HELP!"
From the trees, another group of tainted creatures emerged.
And running ahead of them—
Lysa.
The dancer. The acrobat. The woman with graceful movements and scarred hands.
She ran toward them, face a mask of terror, three wolves on her heels.
"HELP ME! PLEASE—"
One wolf's jaws clamped around her ankle. She went down hard.
"LYSA!" Martha screamed.
The dancer tried to crawl forward, fingers digging into earth, dragging herself toward the platform even as the wolves closed in.
Martha started to run toward her.
Thorne grabbed her arm. "You can't—"
"LET GO!"
"SHE'S ALREADY DEAD!"
"TEN SECONDS!"
Behind the platform, the air itself began to tear. Blue light spilled through the growing rift.
Lysa's fingers stretched toward them, her mouth open, screaming—
A wolf's jaws found her throat.
The scream cut off.
Blood sprayed.
Her hand fell, fingers still reaching.
Finn sobbed. Renna looked away. Even the Wraith's cloth trembled.
"FIVE SECONDS!"
The creatures were on top of them now. The defensive line shattered. Thorne and Sylva scrambled backward. Rowan took three steps back, still fighting. Ivy rolled onto the platform.
"NOW! EVERYONE THROUGH! NOW NOW NOW!"
The portal blazed open—a circle of blue light, stable, perfect.
Salvation.
They didn't hesitate.
Thorne grabbed Diana, carrying her through. Sylva and Ivy followed. Rowan backed through, fists never stopping.
The survivors ran. Martha supporting Karn. Aldric limping. Renna and Gorath together. Finn, still sobbing. The Wraith.
Don tried to stand. Couldn't.
Strong hands grabbed him—Gorath, lifting him like he weighed nothing, carrying him toward the portal.
Behind them, the creatures charged.
Gorath carried Don through the blue light—
Reality twisted.
Every atom pulled apart and reassembled. Stretched across impossible distances. The universe shifting—
Then solid ground.
Cool air.
Different light.
Through.
Gorath set him down. Turned back as Ashwood stumbled through, staff's glow dying.
Rowan came last, backing through, fists still raised—
The portal collapsed.
Snapped shut.
Cut off the howls. The snarls. The smell of death.
Silence.
Don lay on his back, staring up at a sky that was no longer gray.
Blue.
Pale, washed-out blue, but blue.
They'd made it.
Survived.
And behind them, in the Dead Forest, two bodies lay abandoned.
Tam, the frightened boy.
Lysa, the graceful dancer.
Two more names for the list of the dead.
Two more ghosts to carry forward.
Don's eyes closed.
The darkness took him.
And somewhere in that darkness, Madness smiled.