*
Waking up, I stare straight into the eyes of Death.
By some mercy of the Elders, I am still clutching the Candle tight, its flame unfaltering. Seems like the Shadowfeeder cannot enter the light it casts, a meager protection, but protection anyway. I sense him pacing around, testing its defenses with hungry tendrils. I’m sprawled on the floor, blood from the open wound on my forehead trickling into my eyes. My ankle sends searing, pulsating waves of pain all the way up to my heart.
The Shadowfeeder’s thralls have surrounded me in a tight circle; all of them look down at me with their empty eyes, drool dripping from their dark, broken teeth.
Will the light protect me against them too, or does it work only against their masters?
Lips trembling, I slowly reach for the water hag’s dagger and curse through my teeth when I realize it’s lost during my tumble down the slope.
Great. Everything I have to defend myself against a Shadowfeeder and its horde now is an ancient Candle and my weak magic. Panic claws through my bones, piercing me with icy needles. Their rotting, twisted faces sneer at me beyond the blueish flicker in my shaking hand. The stench strangles me, and their noises—breathing, hissing, jaws snapping, bones cracking, and growling—fill the thick putrid air.
Will it hurt?
Will they tear me limb by limb, or will they open my stomach and feast on my innards while I’m still conscious, feeling every single tear and pull? Or will they go for my throat like a predator? It’s doubtful they’d show me this mercy. Tears well up in my eyes at the thought of Tayna.
The seven-foot-tall Shadowfeeder looms over the light bubble I’m cowering in; not a man and not a monster, something in between, a creature of pure hatred. It tilts its head, studying me, those terrifying eyes fixed on my bracelet with some odd interest. I try to scramble up but without success. My beaten body just refuses to oblige.
A large Tainted One enters the light circle, my only protection.
“Elders take you!” I hiss. So the light can hold the Shadowfeeders at bay, but not their thralls. Useful knowledge I’ll take with me to Atos’s halls. My fingers close around a rock. Not planning on going down without a fight.
The creature stalks me with uneven steps. It still wears the armor of the Unseelie court guard. Long, scarce strands of white hair sprouting from its rotting skin. Its jaw is hanging loose, and the blue magic light reveals its teeth and the black tongue inside it. It takes another step toward me, and its heavy, studded boots are just inches away from my face.
My rock hits it right in the forehead, but the creature doesn’t even flinch.
What kind of horrible, twisted death are they planning for me?
Its heavy boot steps on my forearm, and this surprises me. I thought he’d have attacked the hand holding the Candle, but instead, his weight crushes my wrist where Mother’s bracelet is. The thrall presses, my bracelet bending and cutting into my skin, drawing a tormented whimper.
The air grows colder, the darkness deepening. The trees seem to close in above me. The forest itself seems to pulse with malevolent energy, each heartbeat a countdown to my doom.
The thralls’ breaths grow harsher, more ragged, their eyes widening in a mix of hunger and madness.
The Tainted One’s boot presses down harder, and a sickening crack echoes through the night as bones give way. Pain explodes in my wrist, dulling all my senses, but with it comes a surge of adrenaline.
I refuse to die here.
I desperately search for my magic inside. Maybe a throwing spell or some clever illusion can help—
There is nothing inside me.
Only terror and the cold grin of death. That magical lake, which has saved me countless times, is gone.
With a soft click, my mother’s bracelet breaks, releasing my aching wrist. It’s the first time I am not wearing it since I was three years old. The heavy boot continues crushing my wrist, but the world—
The world around me changes.
Everything changes.
The shadows around me swirl and coalesce, and I realize with a jolt that the bracelet has been suppressing something—something powerful.
Summoning every ounce of strength, I focus on the Candle’s flame, willing it to burn brighter. The light flares up, casting long shadows that stretch and twist. The thralls recoil, their empty eyes now changed.
Fear.
They fear me.
