Iolaire and Raziel could understand English. Was that something they developed over time? Or was it something that every Spirit knew? Iolaire hadn’t talked at first, but it had seemed to understand what was going on.
The Werewolf opened its jaws and a low, guttural growl was emitted. It clenched its clawed hands, clicking the inch and a half claws together as it did so. If it did understand English, it didn’t seem to want to communicate.
Okay, now I need to imitate Usain Bolt and lead this thing on a merry chase before I lose it and double back to the others--
Before he could even finish that thought, the Werewolf leaped. If Gena had been fast, the Werewolf put her to shame. Caden had only a millisecond to realize what was happening before he was on his back. The Werewolf’s clawed hands pinned his shoulders to the dry, blasted ground. They drew blood as the claws entered his flesh like a knife would hot butter. The Werewolf’s knees painfully dug into his thighs. Saliva dripped down from its jaws and dripped on his face.
“AH, GOD! GROSS!” Caden shouted.
Even in this terrible situation, the foul, thick gunk was enough to have him yell in disgust. He jerked upwards and the Werewolf was rocked off of him for a minute.
I’m stronger than it is, Caden realized in that split second.
The Werewolf seemed to smile down at him as it reasserted its dominance--seemingly--and prepared to enjoy devouring him one mouthful at a time.
Mind over matter. No body here to keep me down. I’m pure energy. As strong as I was with Iolaire. No… stronger, Caden told himself.
The Werewolf’s foul breath gushed over his face and throat. It was leaning down to snuffle at the soft bits just underneath his chin. Caden wrenched his right arm out from under the Werewolf’s painful grasp. His right hand shot out and he caught hold of the Werewolf’s throat instead. It let out a surprised whine.
Caden dug his fingers into the furry, hot flesh there. His fingers broke through the skin and hot blood was pouring down his arm and pooling on his chest. The Werewolf tried to shake him off. It brought both clawed hands up in the air, preparing to rake his face, throat and chest. Caden threw the Werewolf bodily thirty feet from himself and then jumped to his feet.
His hands flexed at his sides. His eyes narrowed. The Werewolf was already getting to its feet, shaking its head as if to clear it, its hands rising to its injured neck. It glared at him. Caden smiled.
“C’mon, puppy, you want to play?” Caden asked, pretending to be Illarion at that moment. He wanted to intimidate and the Green Dragon King could do that in spades.
The Werewolf’s gaze became worried. It searched his face for fear. What it saw instead was an eagerness for combat. Caden advanced upon the Werewolf, keeping that slightly deranged smile on his face. For a final effect, he licked his lips as he stared at the weeping wounds in the Werewolf’s neck. The Werewolf turned on its heel and ran off into the woods far down the slope. It had decided that there must be easier prey than this insane human.
Caden studied the green and silver vastness, making sure that the Werewolf was not simply circling around to attack him from a blindspot, but there was no sign of the beast. Only the wind blew through the branches of the trees, but nothing else moved.
Caden let out a shaky breath and lifted his arms to run his hands through sweaty hair. He winced as the wounds in his biceps let out a fresh gush of blood. He pulled down his shirt and saw that the wounds the Werewolf had made were still there. Though he willed them to close, they remained. He stared at them for long, long moments.
Maybe spirits could die.
Fly
“Caden! Thank God, you’re back!” Landry cried as she came out from behind a large boulder at the base of the mountain. “Are you okay? You’re bleeding!”
“I’m okay,” Caden assured her. “It looks worse than it is.”
Blood had seeped through his shirt and made long stains that ran down his arms though the wounds were no longer actively bleeding. The stinging in the wounds had stopped when he was halfway to the mountain. Now there was only a faint ache.
Landry stopped a few feet from him. Her hands lifted and lowered as she clearly wanted to help him in some way but she didn’t know how.
“Did you kill the Werewolf?” Ross asked, peeking his head around the boulder.
More heads appeared over the boulders surrounding the mountain base. Faces that were still pale and pinched with fear had slightly hopeful looks on them now that he had returned.
“It ran away,” Caden said.
“Ran away?” Jasper stepped around a boulder. “Really? Just ran away?”
“We fought.” Caden gestured to his wounded arms. “I won. He decided he didn’t want to see what happened next.”
Caden felt like he was exaggerating a little bit, but Jasper had his hackles up. Yet he had gotten the creature to run from him. But now that he knew that they could be hurt here--perhaps badly hurt--he felt a little less sanguine about facing down anymore. There was another roar from up above. Caden’s head snapped up towards the peak that was hidden in the clouds.
“We need to get to Raziel,” Caden said.
“Uh, how? You expect us to fly?” Jasper scowled at him.
