I felt the Shadow Bringer’s hands on my shoulders, a brief graze of cool metal. Then he shoved me forward—right in front of the demon—with what Isworewas a chuckle. I spun back to yell something unkind, but he was gone.
The demon fixed its red eyes on me, saliva dripping from its teeth.
“Your skin is soft. Your blood is fragrant. I think I preferyouto the willful child inside my stomach.”
Shuddering in disgust, I lifted my sword. It glistened with life, even in the murky half-light. “You won’t take either of us, demon.”
“Come here, girl. A truth, for one of your pretty teeth.”
The demon moved to attack, handling its body with startling speed and flexibility. As it slid, bones began to grow out from its back, forming into the shape of six arms. Arms edged in long, brutal claws. I lurched sideways, trying to dodge, but I was too slow. A claw caught my side, tearing into my tunic and the skin above my ribs. I crashed into a tree at the force of it, gasping as I fought to catch my breath. The injury throbbed as wet, bloody shadows dripped down my ribs.
The demon moved again, fast, too fast, striking me down a second time.
The demon tilted its head, considering me. “You fascinate me, dreamer. Fragrant, indeed, is your blood. How might I spill more of it? Let us see.”
A flash of something dark and quick caught my eye: the Shadow Bringer, under one of the demon’s arms. He had become a ghost, a memory, silently threading something around the demon’s arms, spine, and head. Something thin, hairlike. Threads of shadow, spiraling out from the Bringer’s hands as he wove them tight.
I gritted my teeth against the pain blooming in my side, determined to do what the Bringer had demanded.Distract it.I struggled to my feet, meeting the demon’s gaze. “You’re stronger,” I ground out, holding my bleeding side. “How did you manage to grow all those arms?”
“I am fed by the one who sustains me. I am made strong by his blood, his bones, and his darkness.”
My stomach churned in response. How many children perished in the bellies of demons? How many rotted into Corruption there, believing every lie that their cursed dreams fed to them? Gently, meagerly, light began to unfurl from my sword. I focused on growing the blade’s light, letting my anger and desperation fuel its strength, and imagined that the light could move, quick as a whip and as fluid as the wind.
The demon chuckled. “Bind me, you bind the boy. Kill me, you kill the boy.”
At the demon’s threat, I hesitated. What if the demon was right and Ididhurt—or even kill—the boy? Would the Shadow Bringer die, too? Demons were masters of lies and half-truths, so it could be lying. But maybe not. Corruption bound a demon, physically and mentally, to its chosen human. Maybe that truly was the dark reality of it all: To kill a demon, its human must be killed, too. There was no salvation without death, similar to the Light Bringer’s creed.
“You may join him in my entrails, if you would prefer,” the demon rumbled. “I can arrange it.”
I glanced toward where I thought the Shadow Bringer stood, but he was nowhere to be seen. I wanted to be brave, wanted to play the hero, but fear was threatening to crumble it all. The demon was a monster—amonster.
“Let him go,” I said, my voice fiercer than I expected it to be. “What do you want in return?”
“Your soul,” the demon said simply, licking its teeth. “If you wish to save him, you must offer yourself.” The demon made to taste a blood-tipped claw, its face bright with triumph, but its arm jerked to a stop before it could. Bound by the Shadow Bringer’s threads, the demon couldn’t move. It roared, struggling mightily against the shadow bindings even as they cut deep into its skin. “Cursed dreamers—what is this?”
The Shadow Bringer burst from below, using his patchwork of threads to climb the demon’s back. As he climbed, he sent a quick breath of shadow into the demon’s red smoking eyes, blinding it. The demon roared again, and quickly, wildly, the pond began to rise. Its scum lapped against my feet, ankles, shins—just as the Bringer finished his climb, making to wrench one of the demon’s horns from its head.
The horn broke free with a brutalsnap.
The demon hissed, thrashing in its blindness. It caught the ShadowBringer off guard, and he fell, crashing through his threads and snapping them. He cursed, making to grab a thread, a bone, a horn—but everything slipped from his hands, just as the demon broke free an arm.
It happened fast.
The demon threw its arm into the Bringer, crushing him against the pond-soaked earth. I expected him to rise immediately—to shrug off the demon’s arm that pinned him underwater—but the demon persisted, leaning its weight into his chest as he drowned. I lunged for the demon, sword raised, just as the demon grabbed for its broken horn. Hissing, growling,grinning, it drove the horn down, stabbing clean through the Bringer’s armor. Clean through his chest.
“No!” I screamed.
It was as if the horn were inmychest. I couldn’t see the Shadow Bringer, couldn’t see if he was moving. Dark, bloody water pooled from where he was pinned.
The demon turned. Its vision had been restored; hatred burned in its eyes.
“Now it is your turn,” it said simply, just as its bindings dissolved.
It rocked forward, widening its mouth into a colossal, endless hole. I couldn’t move. Mud clung to my legs, rising with the water. Frantically, I lifted my sword, desperately calling to its light.
Too late.
The demon brought its jaws over my body.
