The air was thick with smoke and desperation as she finally gave up and walked back towards the blaze. Against the roaring fire, the silhouette of the woman fell to her knees.
The Beast followed. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the notion that he might drain her. The sweetness of her blood would be the perfect treat. This was why he was here, was it not? It was a rare treat to be roaming the village, to have so much to feast upon, this much he knew. So why should he deny himself?
A raven called out, the sound as familiar as a friend’s voice to him, and stayed those thoughts. In the end, it was the call of a raven and his own curiosity that spared the woman’s life.
With an unfamiliar eagerness, the Beast ventured closer. The woman was a frail thing. She lacked the robustness of a village woman who reared children while carrying the household on her shoulders. Her shoulders were shaking from the sobbing.
He realized he had gotten too close when the sobbing stopped. The woman’s back went rigid, and for a moment, shejust knelt there. Something told him to flee. The instinct of an animal that knew it was spotted. But another part of him was eager to stay, to have someone look at him and live.
Look at me, he thought somewhat desperately. He would have this one thing and then leave, he told himself. He will be seen as a person, and there will be someone alive with that memory.
At last, the woman turned to look at him.
Five
Corabeth
A great black shadow stood just beyond the circle of light cast by the blaze. Corabeth could not tell if it had any distinguishable features or if it was simply a solid mass of black. Her breaths came unevenly as she looked over her shoulder, expecting the Beast to pounce. She had made peace with her death, that didn’t mean she wasn’t utterly terrified.
“Please,” she said weakly, not sure if the Beast could hear her. Not even sure it understood her. “Make it quick, make it painless.”
The Shadowbeast simply stood, unmoving and stoic. Corabeth couldn’t see its eyes, but she could feel the weight of its gaze. Felt herself being picked apart, judged. For a moment, Corabeth thought she saw it tilt its head.
The seconds seemed to stretch endlessly under the gaze of the Beast as she did her best to keep herself still in the cold grip of fear. Every instinct told her she was in the presence of a predator, and she should run. Apparently, her instincts were not yet aware she had nowhere to run.
The raven called again, louder this time, and the Shadowbeast shifted slightly. Corabeth felt its attention slip from her. It hesitated for just a moment before it started gliding along the circle of light. She frowned when she realized the Beast wasn’t coming for her at all. Instead, it moved apathetically towards the misty woods.
A new kind of panic reared its head inside Corabeth. The panic of being left behind, of being left to live whatever semblance of a life she had left, come morning.
The shadow slipped into the dark trees, half-swallowed by the mist that nearly glowed in the light of the moon. All at once, the sounds of the world came rushing back.
“Wait!” called Corabeth and scrambled to her feet. She hurried after the Beast, scared to lose it in the darkness and the fog. The Beast might have thought it was done with Corabeth, but she was not done with the Beast.
“Wait!” she demanded again, angry now. Angry that she was denied even by death itself.
The Shadowbeast was ahead of her, weaving in and out of the trees, always out of reach but never so far that Corabeth might have lost it. The mist surrounding it softened its edges, muffled any sounds that might have come from it. She now saw the distinct shape of the Beast’s head and shoulders.
Sharp branches snagged on Corabeth’s dress as she hurried forward, determined to look death in the face. Ahead, the Beast disappeared behind a thick oak tree and seconds later emerged somewhere to her right, much too fast to cover that much ground.
Corabeth’s breath was visible in the cold air, branches snapping underfoot as she struggled to keep up, a strange urgency driving her forward.
Once again, the Beast vanished, only to reappear in an unexpected place, its movements defying the rules that bound Corabeth. Above her head came the sound of beating wings, and a raven called again. Was it trying to warn her just as she had once hoped the ravens would?
She looked up and saw the raven land on a branch, its feathers taking on a silvery gleam in the moonlight. The bird looked at Corabeth, tilted its head, and peered towards wherethe Beast had been heading. But when Corabeth looked ahead, she only saw gray mist. No movement, no Shadowbeast.
For a moment, she had thought the Beast was leading her somewhere, goading her to follow. Now she felt it had only been toying with her.
Corabeth came to a stop, looking all around her. Nothing but the jagged, dark shapes of trees, mist, and moonlight that gave everything an eerie, cold glow.
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she realized that somehow her situation had worsened. She was now lost in the woods, not even sure which way the village was.
What was a person to do when everyone in this world, even death, denied her?
Another croak pulled Corabeth from her spiraling thoughts. When she looked up, she saw that another raven had joined the first one. Two more landed in a tree nearby. Then the first raven took flight, finding a new spot in a tree further away. It called again, as if urging Corabeth to keep going.
Releasing a shaky breath, she began walking again. This time, there was no towering shadow in the fog to lead her, only the beating of wings and the croaks of ravens. They formed an unbroken obsidian chain, guiding her forward. As Corabeth approached each raven, it took flight, gliding ahead to become the newest link in the chain.
The trees started to thin out, and then there was no more mist. Nestled in a clearing sat a two-story mansion bathed in moonlight. Its intricate, weathered stonework was adorned with sharp gables and spires that reached upward like claws. The arched windows, now cold and black, resembled hollow eyes staring back at Corabeth. A grand staircase led up to heavy double doors, their surface etched with elaborate carvings.
