His sudden fear sparks my own worries. My light falters in their wake.
As I inhale deeply, gathering myself for another attempt, Raze hums. “They… they don’t seem like they want to attack us this time. I’m not getting predatory impressions from them.”
I pause and study the creatures—who, it’s true, have come to a stop in a scattered line a few feet away from me rather than stalking closer. Some sprawl out as if they’re lounging on the pavement. A few simply sit placidly.
One dog-shaped creature stretches its legs like it’s begging to play, and Falkor appears to have given up his earlier concerns. He slither-bounds away from my ankles to join it.
Are the creatures emerging from this rift actually… calming down?
I cock my head, extending my emotional awareness toward the beasts. The flow of sensations I pick up from them still has an odd edge to it I’m not used to from other shadowkind, but it’s nowhere near as frazzled as most warped creatures are. While I watch, none of them show any sign of abruptly morphing into some new form.
Hail lets out a low whistle. “It looks like you might have chilled out the flood in more ways than one, Cream Puff.”
I calmed down a few creatures before, but only when I was directly focusing on them, and I’ve never tried so many at the same time. Could the light I’ve cast into the murk really have that much of an effect?
My gaze slides past the loafing creatures to the thicker darkness beyond. I only brightened maybe another hundred square feet this time, and it’s stilldark, just not as dreary as it was before.
There has to be more we can do.
Even as that thought passes through my head, an engine roars behind us. My head jerks around.
An SUV grinds to a stop on the road near the news crews. The humans I saw talking with the colonel emerge. Silver-and-iron badges glint on all their shirts.
The one who seems to be the leader folds his arms over his chest, his jaw clenched. “Stop what you’re doing right now.”
14
Mirage
The humans stand still while they stare at us, but every bit of my essence prickles like my body wants to scatter into pieces and run away in different directions. Which these people might actually approve of.
A few of them have instruments holstered at their hips that I think are those shiny whip things that can sear right through our beings. A couple hold bundles of glinting strands that I know are the hunters’ preferred type of net.
What will they do if we don’t listen to them? Will they bundle us off into cages to poke and prod?—
The memories of my past captivity rise up in a surge of icy panic. The air around us wavers, a metallic sheen glinting onto every surface. Spikes sprout from the SUV’s windshield; war bugles go off in the distance.
Oh. Those aren’t real transformations. I’m projecting illusions unconsciously.
The news crews stare at them, one of the camera men taking a step back, but the hunters don’t react. Even as I yank my powers back inside, my gaze catches on the shiny metal circles pinned to their shirts and jackets.
Right. Those trinkets stop my powers from reaching their minds. When they’re wearing them, they can’t see my illusions.
I’m not sure that’s a good thing. The odd gleam and the imaginary sights and sounds vanish as quickly as they appeared, but I kind of wish I’d unsettled the more aggressive people we’re facing.
Peri sets her hands on her hips, unfazed by my slip or the hostile humans glaring at us. “Why are you interrupting us? We were helping the city.”
I hope she can feel the rush of affection and awe that fills me as I watch her. She’s half a foot shorter than even the smallest of the hunters and so much softer looking, but so strong she faces them head-on, no shying away or shivering.
The leader of the hunters flicks his gaze toward the darkness behind us, taking in the thinned area where Peri’s been working her powers and the sludgier shadows beyond it. His stance tenses, maybe because of the audience of warped shadowkind creatures who are staring right back at him and his colleagues from the murk.
A couple of the creatures have gotten to their feet, tensing in turn. Even the ones still lolling on the pavement have lifted their heads with sharper alertness.
Are they picking up on the hostile atmosphere and giving in to the usual aggressive impulses after all?
I don’t think a sudden rampage is going to help this situation.
I aim a subtle illusion toward the beasts, making them imagine soothing lights and cozy surfaces around them. If I can lull them right into sleep, even better.
