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“Darach!” she shouted once more, his name ripping from her throat.
The beast stilled then, halting its feasting.
And then it looked at her, golden eyes pinning her to the spot.
Ailsa froze.
An instant later, it reeled back off the pulpy mess of the warrior it had been feasting on, landing on all fours on the muddy, blood-soaked ground. The clag-doo fought the change, digging furrows into the mud with its claws, its muscular body twisting and bunching.
Ailsa took an involuntary step backward.
Shit. Maybe he was too far gone. Maybe it would best him.
Moments passed as the beast contorted, and then it was shrinking—fur disappearing, tail retracting, sinew and bone snapping and rending. The clag-doo threw back its head and gave an ear-splitting howl, which slid into a man’s scream of pain.
And then Darach was back, naked, covered in blood and mud and scratches, on all fours, head hanging between his arms. It wasn’t over though. His body spasmed, and then he vomited onto the ground.
Ailsa didn’t blame him. He’d just discovered his mouth was full of flesh and blood.
“The Hag’s tits,” Kayla whispered.
Next to her, Fern had been stunned into silence.
Extracting herself from Kayla’s grip, Ailsa moved forward. “Darach,” she said, her voice softer now. “Can you hear me?”
His powerful body shuddered, and then he lifted his head.
His eyes still glowed gold, a sign that the beast still lurked close to the surface, still sought to win. “Aye,” he said, his voice raspy.
Ailsa’s grip on her dagger loosened. She hesitated a moment before moving closer. “Come on.” Bending from the hips, she hooked one arm under his armpit and helped him to his feet.
Kayla and Fern approached them, their gazes wary.
“Easy,” Fern murmured. “Best give him some space.”
Ailsa nodded, letting go and allowing Darach to stand unaided.
The four of them waited together, gazing around at where the fight had concluded.
The bavaan had finished off the last of the warriors; all the hunters that Niall had sent after them lay dead on the track or in the bed of ferns and nettles surrounding them.
A deep silence fell over the oakwood.
Darach wheezed a curse as he too took in the scene.
Previously, he’d been lost, perhaps hadn’t even noticed that they had company. But he did now. And like Kayla and Ailsa, he tensed, readying himself for another fight.
Some of the surrounding bavaan wiped blood from their lips, for they’d taken the opportunity to feed as they killed.
Ailsa’s mouth started to ache at the sight.
And then silvery lights started to glow in the surrounding trees.
Her breathing caught.
Corpse candles?
No. Faerie Lights—which robbed a Marav of will and drew you away to your death—were golden, beguiling. These lights had no effect on her, or on Kayla and Darach, and moments later, she realized they were lanterns.
