The Darkness That Hunts
Chapter 16

“Iget this isn’t the ideal time, but should we really be doing this?” Dace unties the knot anchoring the narrowrowboat to a weathered pillar. The overcast sky grays with the approach of dawnand the mountain air turns crisp and damp. As we huddle on the pier, the forestaround us shift restlessly, as if sensing our destination. “I mean the wholeleft half of Shari’s face is swollen, Chameleon’s a freaking zombie--and we’regoing to what? Face the creature that damn near had us killed?”

“We’refugitives, Dace. Not a lot of options.” Zakk lowers me into the hull. The boatrocks with my weight and water sloshes against its shabby planks. Dace joins meon the bench that serves as the forward thwart. Zakk perches at the stern thwartwhile Kamiron settles on the center thwart and fits the pair of oars into the metalrowlocks. He begins to row with powerful, sweeping strokes that yank us awayfrom our lives and towards madness.

Dacestares at the receding shoreline of Camp Genki mournfully. “Maybe we wouldn’thave had a explanation for Security, but--”

“We’dbecome suspects and accessories to murder,” Z counters, “Not to mention we’refreaks. Who’d believe us? You want to get locked up?”

“’Coursenot. I’m just saying we could’ve gotten some supplies, maybe planned our next move before we divedinto the belly of the beast. That too much to ask?”

Kamironsteers us towards the dense mist that never lifts from the western half of LakeAndy. My entire body hurts, my head rings, and I know my skin is littered withbruises from Sandra’s beating. Even moving is an exercise in pain. But thatpales in comparison to the guilt I feel for hurting Kam. Even if killing herwas justified, I know Kamiron won’t see it that way. To him, I murdered thewoman he loves. There’s no forgiving that.

“We’regoing to a safe place,” I repeat. Exhaustion makes my voice sharper than Iintend. “The Darkness-That-Hunts can replace us anywhere, even out there.” Imotion to Camp Genki and immediately regret the movement. “Yes, Ater is his home,but I know where we can lie low.”

“Areyou sure nothing from our world can transfer over there?” Dace presses. “Likeweapons?”

Atleast he’s given up arguing that interdimensional travel via rowboat isimpossible. I swallow another sigh. The rocking of the boat, almost like thelazy gait of a pony, soothes me. The oars creak with each of Kam’s rows. Hisbloodstained shirt ripples and his muscles strain, dragging us inexorably towardsthe place I never wanted to return.

“I’mnot sure. When I was brought there, I was unconscious.” The words hurt toadmit.

Dacehuffs.

Zakkstraightens and points to the oars. “Something’s happening.”

Wewatch Kamiron row. He sinks the oars’ flat blades into the water, and sweeps themtowards the bow. As he does this, we notice that no ripples mar the lake surfaceand no droplets splash back into the water when the oars arc through the air.Fog chokes everything, so thick we can barely see a foot ahead of us but as theboat glides ever forward, no waves break against the bow and we leave no wakebehind us. We’ve become ghosts.

“Anyidea what’s happening?” It’s the first time Kamiron has spoken since he offeredto row. Even then, he avoids looking at me.

“Myguess is some kind of distortion of matter and space,” Dace mutters,distracted. “Like we’ve become insubstantial.”

Dace’shand dangles along in the water as he marvels at the lack of reaction from thesurface and my heart skips. “Get your hand out!”

Dacesnatches back his fingers at the panic in my voice. The boys gawk at me. Icough to clear the lump of panic from my throat.

“Ididn’t mean to snap. It’s just--” I replace I can’t explain it, so I point to thefreakishly calm water. “Maybe we’ll see them if we look closer. No doubtthey’ve sensed Dace by now.”

Intrigued,the boys lean starboard and stare intently. At first I can tell they seenothing, but as the fog thins around us, they spy dozens of white, six-footlong eels with cloudy, dead eyes swirling around our boat like sharks.

Kamironnearly drops the oars. Dace jerks back from the rim.

Zswallows hard. “What are those things?”

“I’mnot sure, but they’re why you can’t swim out of Ater. They will devour anythingthat touches the water.” I feel even more tired and a headache starts to buildbehind my eyes, but I force myself to explain. “Everything here lacks aphysical form and with it, vitality. Life is power and here we are beacons to alldead things. Everything--from plants to birds--wants to consume us. You must becareful what you touch.”

Myvoice fades as the wall of fog ends. Ater swells before us like a grim island.An endless ruby sky streaked by wispy black clouds crouches above the imposingsnarl of woodlands that make up the Onyx. Sickly trees reach for us withgnarled, rooted fingers. Tangled black vines, thorny bushes, and scrubby grassform an impassible curtain. There is little light; instead layers of gray cloakthe dreary landscape and grant it the ethereal quality of nightmares. But it’s the silence that’s the worst. Aterlacks the ambience of life, the faint din of living creatures, of breezescaressing the underbellies of leaves, the soft sigh of earth settling underfoot.Replacing it is an almost tangible hush--as if the land has just drawn a quick,fearful breath and now holds it, waiting for danger to pass.

Dreaderupts in me at the sight and instinctively my fingers close around Gjinna’spendant at my throat like it’s a holy talisman.

I never wanted to come back here.

Itake shallow breaths, focusing on keeping air moving in and out of my lungs andnot on ordering Kamiron to turn us around and take us back to the camp. Betweenthe soothing sway of our rowboat and the reassuring weight of Gjinna’snecklace, courage works its way back into my trembling body.

Kamironpropels us towards a rotted pier that juts out from a shoreline of fine blacksand. We climb onto the landing and are careful not to touch the water. Weavoid staring at the eels that continue to circle the hull. The guys follow meas I skirt planks that look weak but still sections of wood disintegratebeneath our shoes. As soon as my feet land on the grainy sands of Ater, my concernfor the safety and survival of my friends takes precedence. I continue towardsthe Onyx, expecting them to follow, but when I don’t hear the crunch of theirfootsteps in my wake, I turn to replace them taking in the view.

Thetiny waves that break along the bank are eerily mute, and it feels as if we arewatching a silent, black and white film. The fog obliterates any sign of CampGenki. It’s all encompassing, as impregnable as any fortress and even blots outAter’s crimson sky. Though there is no wind or breezes the white-gray mist swellsand heaves and looks disturbingly like hundreds of ghastly mouths chewing thehorizon.

“Lookingat that,” Kamiron whispers, “makes me feel like Gen never existed. Like homewas a delusion.”

Dacetries to adjust his glasses, but his clumsy fingers only end up smearingfingerprints across his lenses. “Maybe it was. Who’s to say that we didn’t justimagine it all? Mass hypnosis.”

“Thatcan’t be true.” But Zakk’s protest is weak. He watches the way the tendrils of mistnibble at the solemn lake waters. “Though that thing looks like will probably eatanyone that tries to pass through.”

Tampingdown on my budding dejection, I peel my gaze from the curtain of fog and clapmy hands. The sharp noise crackles down the obsidian shoreline that stretchestowards nothingness and jolts the guys.

“Stoplooking at it,” I bark. “Or it’ll suck away your willpower.” Again I start forthe Onyx, urging them to follow me. “The Wall of Apathy manipulates you intogiving up any attempt to leave Ater.”

“Thenhow are we supposed deal with it when we return?”

Will we even return?But I don’t voice this. Instead, I shove away my misgivings and bury them. Deep.“Keep your eyes low, focus only on what’s in front of you. Actually, that’sgood advice for pretty much everything here.”

Ifollow a narrow game trail--although to call it a game trail is misleading. It’smore like a dirt path that twists beneath the crooked branches of the trees.It’s nearly overgrown with scrub bushes and barbed vines but it beats trying tohew our way through the tangled and dangerous undergrowth. We occasionally replaceanimal footprints treading through the dirt though they are grotesque and notany prints that we can recognize. The fauna that inhabit Ater are twistedparodies of the animals we know of on Earth and best to be avoided.

“Anyother good news, sunshine?” Dace drawls when I explain the significance of theprints to them.

“Trynot to touch anything. And step where I step.”

“Incase you haven’t noticed, it’s too dark to seewhere you step.” As if to prove his point, Dace trips over a tangle of blackvines with huge fronds in the shape of a trident. “Is it possible to make atorch or something?”

“Toorisky,” I counter, but slow my pace. My eyes remember what it’s like wrestlingwith the gloom, but I have to remind myself that the boys aren’t soexperienced. The trail snakes east with the occasional northward detour. Aboveus, the scraggly boughs of the trees and dead, dry leaves break up the red andblack of the sky. Opaque shapes keep stride with us, but so far keep theirdistance. I wish we could have brought weapons but with all the detritus strewnabout, I’m sure I can unearth a makeshift club or replace a heavy rock. Kamironand Zakk shift closer, and I notice them scanning the terrain with grimdetermination. From the calculating gleam in the feral yellow eyes that followus, I get the feeling the animals sense the guys’ resolve and are unwilling toattack.

Worksfine for me.

Wedon’t talk so when I hear a distant clatter, like hail falling despite the lackof moisture to the air, I call for the boys to halt and tilt my head. There itis again, hail raining to the ground, but it’s followed by something else--thegrinding of bone against bone. Gasping, I scramble off the trail and crouch behinda wall of thorny brambles with deep orange flowers that smell like maple syrup witha hint of rot.

“Whatis it?” Kamiron’s voice is calm and alert as he squats next to me. He makessure no part of him touches me as he peers down the narrow trail. At least he’stalking to me now. That’s progress, right?

“Icall them bats.”

Daceand Zakk hover near my elbow. Zakk’s hair tickles my wrist as he leans incloser. “Since we’re hiding, I take it these are killer bats with an insatiablehunger for supple teenaged flesh?”

Despitethe grave situation and the consistent threat of death that lingers over ourheads, a smile tugs at my lips. I’m glad I’m not tackling this alone; myfriends’ unfailing sense of humor (morbid as it may be) serves as an anchor forme and decreases my stress.

“Thebats are the eyes and ears of The Darkness-That-Hunts.” A thought strikes me. Iturn to them and, keeping my voice low, caution, “Never say his name. He cansense it.” I wait for them to each nod before I continue. “The bats travel in coloniesof a dozen or so. You usually hear them before you see them. Look.”

Theyfollow the arc of my pointing finger to a dark silhouette further down thepath, partially obscured by silver-green leaves that drag against the groundlike kudzu. Its hind legs end in paws the size of a bobcat’s, its forelegsoddly reminiscent of a horse. It bends its long neck and its beak snaps off acluster of the orange flowers.

Kamfrowns. “That doesn’t look like a--”

Burstingfrom the canopy in a wave of boney, sickly wings, a cloud of bat-like creaturesdescends on the grazing animal. They resemble grotesque toddlers with pallid shriveledskin, a double row of shark-like teeth, and facial features that roam aroundtheir skulls and necks. A myriad of rotten limbs protrude from unusual areas--juttingout of a breastbone, dangling between shoulder blades, extending from a left hip--three-fingeredhands slash at the hapless victim, ripping away chunks of flesh and fur andbone and shoveling it into awaiting mouths. Each bat creature sports six eyesacross their small frames, eyes that rove and glow like blue-white vapor.

Wecower in the thorns as the creatures circle their prey, diving in and out ofthe tangled foliage. Dozens of mouths shriek into the night and the grinding ofskeletal wings makes the skin along my arms break out into gooseflesh. I’veonly seen them feed once before, and I’d blocked the gruesome display from mymemory. Dripping guano and blood, the bats streak back into the canopy above. Eventuallythey emerge like a colorless cloud against the crimson of the sky and the pealof hail fades as they retreat westward. I wait a full five minutes before I riskreturning to the trail.

Dacetrembles at my side and gazes at the remnants of the bats’ victim. All that isleft are a few ruined rib bones and a hoof from the foreleg. “I’m gonna besick.”

Heturns back toward the bushes and vomits. Z thumps his friend’s back.

“Thosethings look nothing like bats,” Zakk chastises.

“Inever said they were bats. I said, ‘Icall them bats’ because I couldn’t replace words to describe them. It’s theirwings--that remind me of bats, I mean.”

Kamironapproaches the corpse with caution. “How could they even fly? Their wings hadmore rotted holes than tendon and muscle.”

“Myguess is that The Darkness-That-Hunts’ power animates them. When he is lookingthrough their eyes, they turn gold. The bats usually content themselves with spyingfrom afar but sometimes . . .” I grimace and look away from the soiled areasurrounding the animal’s body parts. “They stop to feed.”

Dacespits and kicks loose dirt over his bile. “They coming back?”

“Don’tknow, but we should get going regardless.”

“Thisisn’t guano.”

“Chameleon,”Dace chides, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t care what it is, it reeks.”

Kamironignores Dace and instead uses a stick to poke at the festering grey ichor that bubblesaround the corpse. “It’s like skin cells. They’re shedding this stuff.”

Zakksquats next to Kamiron and examines the end of the stick. “You’re right.” Toour revulsion he takes a deep whiff. “Smells slightly like methane.”

“Methaneis odorless,” Dace corrects.

Zshrugs. “I’m just telling you what I smell. We use natural gas at home, andthis smells like it--at least, beneath the reek of death.”

Daceadjusts his glasses and his expression turns thoughtful. “Manufacturers wouldoften mix methane with a chemical odorant as a safety precaution . . .”

Kamtosses aside the stick and returns to the trail, wiping his tennis shoes ontufts of weeds. “Shari’s right, we should go.”

I’mgrateful he picks up on my sense of urgency. It’s never a good idea to stay inone area too long, especially not in the Onyx. There are worse things out herethan bats.

Dacecontinues to hesitate by the corpse. “It might be a good thing.”

Wefrown.

“Ifwe ever run into those things again,” he clarifies. “In its gas form, methaneis flammable.”

“You’resaying we could burn them?” I ask.

“Ifthey’re made in part by methane, yes. Of course, we’d need to replace a way toturn that goo into gas.”

Idecide not to ask Dace how he intends to turn their guano into gas, but he hasa point. If we do replace ourselves confronted with the bats again, at least wehave an idea of how to protect ourselves.

Zakk’spalm rests against my lower back. “Lead the way, Shari.”

Takinga deep breath, I plunge into the maze of the Onyx.

“Ithink we’re here.”

We’dlong ago abandoned the trail in favor of foraging our way through dryunderbrush and cobwebs as thick as fabric. The robust trees around us are thecolor of driftwood left to bleach in the sun, but with deep gouges in theirtrunks, as if a large creature had ripped through them. Beyond the marredtrees, a trio of grassy knolls bulges within the center of a circular meadow.Pikes stab deep into the soil, their emerald banners snapping in a breeze wedon’t feel. Clouds crawl across the sky, darkening the clearing. Above themounds strange orbs that I’ve never seen before bob up and down and cast afaint copper glow on assorted boulders that protrude from the shoulders of thehills.

“Exactlywhere is ‘here’?”

Icheck each direction, searching for a hidden predator. Exposed areas make meuneasy, but I spot nothing out of the ordinary. The knolls remain as silent as thegraveyard at a Baptist church. “This is Divine’s home.”

Ibeeline towards the smallest of the three knolls. Dead grass and grey dirtgreet me as I hover near the mound’s curved perimeter and hunt for theentrance.

“Sothis druid of yours lives in a hill?”Dace raises an eyebrow at my confirming nod. “What was I was possessed by? Ahobbit?”

Anothersmile tickles the corner of my mouth. “This would make a very demented Shire.”

“IsDivine one of the Sidhe?”

Weeach spare startled glances towards Zakk. He presses his hand against theearthy mound. Grass spurts between his long fingers. “I like folklore. TheSeelie and Unseelie, the Summer and Winter court of the Fae, are rumored tolive in knolls like these.”

Ina flash I’m back in Andhakar’s court, dangling from my cage and watching as lithecreatures with tall, slender bodies and translucent skin amuse themselves withthe mortal pets Andhakar has procured for them. They rank highest among TheDarkness-That-Hunts’ followers, and the bats from earlier are just a sample ofthe monsters that make up the dark Fae.

“Thereare Unseelie here,” I reply, “but Divine is human. He has frequent dealingswith the Fae since their territory is nearby.”

Justeast of the druid’s grove, in fact. It’s a region jealously guarded, and the patrollingUnseelie are ruthless about those who encroach on their domain. That area is tobe avoided at all costs. Again my hand flutters to the copper chain at my neckand I’m thankful for the information that Gjinna has passed on to me during herbrief visits.

Themound gives a sudden grunt and Zakk staggers back. Darkness coalesces and formsa round entrance near the center of the smallest knoll. There is no sound, nostrange copper light glowing from within. The smell that wafts out of thedoorway burns our nostrils.

“God,does anything in this place not smelllike ass?” Dace grumbles.

Kamironfrowns. “It’s not so bad. Reminds me of beauty bark.”

I’venever heard of beauty bark but inside the knoll smells like cow manure and oldearth and it’s hardly comforting. I motion for the boys to go first. After a briefhesitation where they exchange dubious glances, they step inside. I spare alast glance at the clearing, scanning the cluster of trees that crowd the rimof the meadow. Something moves, a shadow within the shadows and I suck in astartled breath.

Iblink and it’s gone. Nothing but twisted branches with mottled yellow-greenleaves trapped inside thick cobwebs. But for a moment, I could have sworn I sawa solitary bat, every one of its six eyes golden and trained on me. Anothersecond passes and green banners crackle in a fierce wind that doesn’t touch me.

Just your eyes playing tricks on you, girl.I turn back towards the doorway to Divine’s home. No going back now. Reachingout with ebony fingers, the shadowy entrance swallows me whole.