He grabbed her by the wrist and began dragging her. “Trust me, it’s not worth finding out. We need to move. Now.”
Hazel pondered the urgency. It hadn’t sounded overly close, but… As if on cue, a second screeching wail tore her from her thoughts. Whatever it was, it was closer than before. Much closer. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end the way they always did before something ominous happened.
The air grew cooler, the temperature dropping unnaturally fast as though something had sucked the warmth out of the atmosphere.
Slaide was moving before she had time to recognize anything was happening. She didn’t see him move, but he barreled into her, forcing the air from her lungs and slamming her to the ground.
“What in the name of all the gods. Slaide!” She huffed. “Get off!”
Instead, Slaide slapped a hand over her mouth and shimmied himself so that his body almost completely covered hers. “Shh,” he whispered against her ear. “Don’t. Move.”
She was staring at the sky, watching the clouds slide across the moon and stars. A breeze caressed the trees, and the crickets still sang around them. Aside from that, the world was completely silent.
And then it all stopped. The chirping. The rustling leaves. The soft breeze. If the world could get any quieter, it did.
A feeling crept over Hazel that made her want to shrink down even smaller than she was and hide herself completely under Slaide’s form. Her silver locket was hot against her skin.
Something was wrong. So wrong. She squeezed her eyes shut, as though that could offer more protection than leaving them open. Slaide’s breathing was so slow and shallow in comparison to her own. Too loud. She was breathing too loud. Her heart thumped against her ribs, betraying her as she willed it to be quiet.
It came into view then—an eerie, ghostly presence. A cloaked figure walked toward their hiding place in the tall grass, just off the path. No, walking was the wrong way to describe it. It was floating, gliding through the air, its tattered shroud billowing behind it. Its face, if it had one, was cloaked in shadow and covered in a hood. Sleeves draped down to its long, spindly fingers, bone-white in the moonlight.
The smell hit her before it reached them. Rot and decay, but not the earthy, loamy kind. This thing polluted the air with the stench of a days-old corpse left to bake in the summer sun. Her stomach rebelled, and it took an extreme mental effort not to gag.
Slaide’s words echoed in her mind as it grew closer.Don’t move. Don’t move. Don’t move.It floated so near she wondered how it hadn’t seen them yet. But some things were better leftunanswered, and this she quickly learned as the wraith pulled back its hood, revealing a corpse-like face—or at least what was left of one.
It was then she understood why they’d been able to hide in plain sight: it was blind. Well, not just blind, but lacking eyes altogether.
The Border wraith had gaping black pits where its eyes should be and two dark slits for a nose. When it opened its mouth, she was met with a view of two rows of needle-sharp fangs. It was gliding close. Too close.
She was sure this thing could hear her every breath, if not her telltale heart. It could probably smell her, too, because the amount of stress she was feeling was without a doubt seeping through her pores.
As if on cue, the wraith tilted its head back and sniffed, something akin to a wild beast on the hunt. Its slitted nostrils flared wide as it sampled the air around it. Then it opened its mouth and panted before licking its lips greedily.
Oh, they were so dead. Maybe. Hazel had not the slightest clue what these wraiths did and made a mental note to ask Slaide later.
“Sslaaaide,” came a voice, dragging out his name in a hiss. “You’re not supposed to beee heeere.” The wraith looked over them slowly, its eyeless gaze dragging so painfully slow that Hazel wondered if perhaps it did have vision after all.
“I can sense you, Slaaaide. Youandyour friend. And oooh, she smells exquisite.” Its face twisted into something reminiscent of a smile, but with more teeth. “She’s special, Slaaaide. But you knew that, didn’t you. Just like you knew better than to bring her into our domain. Why don’t you reveal yourselves? Any friend of Ssslaide’s… will make an excellent sssacrifice.”
The pressure against her skull grew. Claws ran down the edges of her mind, reminding her of the Striga, but heavier, more foreboding. And yet it was somehow soothing, beckoning her to come out of hiding. Promising no harm. Her head was foggy, her mind slogging through mud to form a single thought.
Yes, I should stand up and reveal myself. Say hello. Why not?Slaide’s grip on her tightened, as though he could sense her thoughts. His hand was still over her mouth. He clamped that down tighter as well.
“Where aaare yooou?” the wraith sang. “You can’t hide forever. I can feel your little pet’s mind. We could aaall have so much fun. All you must do is show me where you aaare…”
Yes,Hazel thought.It’s not going to hurt anything.But Slaide was pressing into her like their lives depended on it.Why is he doing that? Maybe I should bite his hand. Yes, I should. Then he will let me up to say hello.
Hazel chomped down on one of Slaide’s fingers. His body tensed against hers as he cringed against the pain. But he didn’t release her or utter a sound.
“C’mon, Slaide. Won’t you let your pet come play? She absolutelyreeksof magic. We could change the world with her, Slaide. Make them bow to us, the creatures they’ve too long scorned. It’s unfair to keep her all to yourself. Didn’t your mother teach you to share? Oh, wait. That’s right…”
Something screamed in the distance, and Hazel watched as the wraith’s head snapped in its direction. The scream was clearly human. Someone else was trying to cross the Border. The screech that followed was indication enough: the unfortunate soul had crossed the path of another Border wraith.
Their own undead stalker friend sniffed the air again and let forth a blood-curdling call that snapped Hazel back to her senses. Then it looked in their direction and sighed, defeated.
“Pity. Duty callsss. I’ll be back for you, though, Slaaaide and pet. I’ll beee back…” Hazel watched in silent horror as the wraith dissipated into nothing, no more than smoke carried away on a breeze.
When enough time had passed, Slaide finally pushed away from her enough to look down upon her, his face drawn into an angry scowl.
