“Yes.”
“You need to listen to me,” I say, panic bubbling up. “Behind us is a drop, at least five hundred feet. I know this because I almost fell to my death earlier.” Shock hits his expression, but I continue, “There’s a Figgawen nearby. It chased me earlier, and I think it’s been stalking us ever since.” Oak’s arms raise in objection, but I stop him. “Whatever’s following close behind is going to run straight for us and the ravine. Wait for my signal. When it’s time, we’ll jump out of the way.”
“Yes, you are insane.” He sighs. “This isn’t going to work.”
Fear hits me as I somewhat believe it won’t either, but I don’t tell him that. “We have no other choice. We can’t outrun this creature. The Figgawen’s been hunting me since we started the trial.”
Oak shakes his head. “Gods, Briar. You sure know how to attract friends. Alright. Let’s do this.”
Standing together, we face the darkness before us. I inhale deeply, drinking in the forest air, fearing this may be my last time doing so. For the first time, it feels easy to face this darkness alongside a friend—family.
However, the eerie silence is unsettling, given what lurks in the nearby distance. Branches crunch a few feet ahead of us, to the right and left. Oak grips my hand, keeping us steady and prepared. A breeze sweeps through our bodies as the trees stop rustling. A sudden drop in temperature makes my teeth chatter. A face that inspires nightmares peers around a tree to our right. The Figgawen. Hollow black eyes lock onto mine. The creature’s long gray fingers become visible as it crawls on all fours around the tree, its entire body coming into view. Long black strands of hair cascade across its face, flowing down to its visible ribcage. A grin spreads across its haunting face, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth and an unnaturally long tongue.
“Gods,” Oak whispers, holding my hand, stepping slightly in front of me.
The Figgawen’s leg snakes over its head, crawling toward us with an unsettling calmness, a true predator after meek prey. I stand tall, not showing how petrified I am in its presence. A crack in the distance to our left catches the creature’s attention for only a second, allowing me to exhale, realizing I’ve been holding my breath.
The noise to our left grows louder, and I sense a new enemy lurking nearby. Finally, it reveals its form. A tall, thin creature walks almost humanlike through the tree line. Never in my life have I seen anything so horrifying. This creature makes the Figgawen seem pleasant. A breath escapes my burning lungs as if the creature is draining the life out of me. Pale skin covers its face—no mouth, no eyes—but somehow, it stares directly at us.
“Princess,” Oak breathes, refusing to take his gaze off the creature to our right. I hold my stare on the creature to the left.
“I’m so sorry, Oak,” I gasp, preparing to die alongside someone I never thought I’d see again—a friend. “Run. Please. I will distract them.”
He snaps his attention to mine. “You are insane, Briar. I’m not leaving you, now or ever.”
He squeezes my hand so tight, I fear my hand may break, his body shielding mine from the death ahead. He’s ready to take the first blow. Oak. My friend. My family. Prepared to die together.
“You little shit!” Thatcher screams, moving through the tight trees. Bardot stalks close behind, unaware of what trails us so closely.
I flash my eyes back to the vanished creatures. “For once in your fucking life, Thatcher, please be quiet,” I beg.
“You think you can leave us there to die? You have no idea who you’re messing with, Princess.” He stomps toward us, the twin at his heels.
Bardot’s eyes show little emotion. Devastation shines through as he mourns his brother Graven. A piece of him is broken, lost… dead. I can’t help but feel sorrow for him. The loss of someone so important leaves a mark on your soul, darker than any tattoo.
Thatcher and the twin storm approach us, shadows and lightning colliding from the Shadow and Lumor Wielders who threaten us. Their backs face the black forest, pushing us closer to the ravine while keeping them unaware of the creatures nearby.
A snap in the distance makes Thatcher spin toward the forest. “What was that?” he asks.
Both creatures move in tandem, revealing themselves once again, crawling like beasts toward us. Thatcher’s bow isimmediately ready as Bardot follows suit. The creatures growl with hunger as they close the distance. Oak and I prepare to fight, remaining committed to our plan. The sun peaks over the horizon, casting a crimson line across the sky, echoing the bloodshed that’s about to occur. The magic in my veins starts to react to the danger as the effects of the drugs fade from my system. The creatures before us savor the scent of fear.
My eyes catch Thatcher lowering his bow, his fists clenching. I feel the magic running through his veins once more. The creatures lunge, teeth gnawing, ready to tear us to shreds. I peel both axes from my back, holding my ground. Oak stands strong beside me, without fear of death. Together, we will fight and welcome the darkness.
Thatcher flashes a smile in my direction before shifting from our view. At this moment, I know he’s cheated once more. The effects of the drug do not weigh as heavily on him.
Oak screams, “Can you shift?”
I do a quick pulse check of my magic. “No, it’s not strong enough yet.”
From the looks of Bardot, his answer is the same. The twin hurls his spikes toward the creatures with extreme precision. Slicing through the Figgawen’s skin, it pauses for a moment before barreling forward again. He continues to throw them faster than shooting stars.
The creature to our left sprints closer. Its faceless features blur as a wide black mouth forms, ready to drain us of life.
My knuckles whiten from the grip on both axes. I widen my stance, ready to swing.
Grass and soil kick up behind the creatures. Their speed increases, closing the final gap before us. My focus breaks as Bardot steps in front of Oak and me with no emotion or movement behind his dark eyes.
My mouth falls open. “Bardot! Get back!”
