“I won’t leave you. I promise,” he said. His mind was racing, and panic was creeping in. He couldn’t think clearly. “There’s gotta be a way to get you free.”
“I can’t keep fighting, Jake. It hurts so much,” she whimpered. “Each time I pull, I get jabbed and clawed.”
“You’re not giving up. Get set, Seneca. Let’s do this!”
Jake began pulling at the mud-covered limbs. He moved swiftly, alternating between Seneca’s arms and legs. Each time he grabbed hold and attempted to loosen her captor’s grip, his hands were grazed by razor-sharp claws, causing him to release and try another spot. The cuts stung, but he continued grappling to find any place he could tug to break her free. The blood streaming onto his hands made it difficult to maintain a firm grip. Jake jerked with an uncontrollable spasm. Pain shot down his arm as a claw burrowed deep into his flesh. He snatched his hand away and stumbled backward. He scrambled on his knees to find a different angle. His hands plunged into the thick mud, grabbling with something stiff and unyielding. He pulled his hands free and wiped them against his jeans. Whatever held her down was strong and ruthless. He was intent on figuring out another tactic. He got up and backed away a few feet.
“Think, Jake. Think!” he said aloud. “This is crazy.” He tilted his head back and attempted to concentrate to uncover any possible solution. He paced in a slow circle as he rubbed his bloody hands through his hair. He suddenly stopped and locked eyes with Seneca.
“Jake! No, you can’t give up—don’t leave me!” shrieked Seneca. Her tears stung as they rolled across open lacerations on her cheeks and created miniscule pools in the pockets of her ears.
I’m not going anywhere, but listen up, and don’t question me. Seneca, when I give you the signal, you need to open your wings.
Seneca could hear his thoughts clearly, and she knew he meant well, but it was too much of a risk. “I can’t Jake. I just can’t,” moaned Seneca.
She took a deep breath. She tried to relax and focused on keeping her wings hidden. She didn’t know why Jake would make such a request. She was growing numb to the pain and stopped resisting her captor.
Seneca, you have to do it. Trust me!
He inhaled slowly and cleared his mind of all other thoughts to be sure she would not confuse his directions. She gazed into Jake’s eyes, and he bobbed his head slowly. She knew that was the signal.
Without hesitation, Seneca’s wings appeared spontaneously and opened in full span. In one motion, she was lifted from the ground. The force and light they illuminated caused the captor to lose its hold as she propelled herself upward Claws reached out and grappled aimlessly in the air. She was out of reach. Her wings were powerful and strong. She rocketed toward the sky, soaring higher with each thrust of her wings. She continued pushing hard to put a great distance between her and the ground below. Her wings responded instinctively, piloting her upward until she was well above the trees and suspended in the night sky. She was free.
Seneca breathed in the crisp air. Her body ached; however, she avoided checking her injuries. She didn’t want to dwell on anything except her freedom. She fluttered her wings, and they replied on cue. They were intact and unharmed, which filled her with relief—for a moment. An eerie chill ran through her body. She shuddered.
Where’s Jake? She suddenly realized he wasn’t with her. She had been so consumed with getting away that she hadn’t bothered to think about her friend.
“Jake!” yelled Seneca. “Oh no! What have I done?”
She attempted to search the ground below, but she couldn’t make out anything in the darkness. The density of the trees shielded most of the view of the marsh below. She knew she had to get lower to check on Jake, but her fear kept her hovering high above the dreadful danger lurking beneath. She tried various angles to get a better view to no avail. The only consolation was the cool air, which soothed her injuries.
“Jake, can you hear me? Are you okay?” she called out. She waited for a response, but she heard only disturbing snarls and rumbling sounds echoing beneath her.
“Answer me! Please!” Seneca wept.
This time, she had no concerns about letting her tears fall. She was horrified by Jake’s lack of response. Dark and gruesome images of his possible plight filled her mind. Growling and rustling sounds continued but varied in intensity. She forced away the visions of Jake being tortured and devoured. Seneca shook her head rapidly to remove the morbid images she had conjured. She called out several times, but he still did not respond. She tried to convince herself that as long as she could hear sounds, no matter how horrendous, he was still alive.
CHAPTER FOUR
Murkgoblins
Jake watched in horror as a grotesque creature sprang from the earth, jetting several feet in the air in a futile attempt to stop Seneca’s escape. It landed hard and began grumbling as it crouched low to the ground. It scratched at the mud where Seneca had been held against her will. It stood erect while contorting and twisting until it faced Jake.
Jake braced for impact; he knew a battle was inevitable. They were about to embark on what was likely to be an intense brawl. He hadn’t thought beyond the immediate need to save his friend. He should have bolted when he had the chance, but he had foolishly remained. He had to weigh his next move carefully. Jake expected the mud-covered creature to attack immediately, but instead, it held its position. They stood facing each other at an impasse.
Jake was curious about the filthy beast but opted not to engage verbally. He’d been wrong to think it was a vast tree holding on to Seneca. Instead, it was an Otherworld being camouflaged to blend into the brush and muddy marsh. It was atrocious from head to toe and completely covered in dried mud, leaves, sedge, and foliage. None of its facial features were symmetrical, which gave it a distorted expression. It had deep impressions on its face that resembled chiseled tree bark, with dark opaque eyes set deep in the crevices. In the center of its concave forehead was an engraved spiral marking in a dull gold hue. Its body was covered sparingly in moss and grass, and it had twisted branch-like horns extending from the top of its head. In an upright position, it was a foot shorter than Jake and extremely thin. It showed no signs of being fazed or intimidated by the height or weight variance. It was inexplicably the aggressor.
Jake held his position. He watched the tree creature move slowly around, circling him as it snarled. It surveyed him thoroughly in preparation for an attack. Its eyes widened as they peered out through the shallow cracks in its face. It growled with defiance to show its displeasure, making no attempt to hide its contempt. Its nostrils flared as it flashed ragged discolored fangs that protruded from a severe underbite that gave it a pelican-like jaw. It stomped the ground where it had trapped Seneca and growled louder. It was intent on retaliation for having lost its prey. Jake knew this to be true and knew an attack was imminent. He took in a slow breath and readied himself. The creature squatted low and hovered close to the ground. Jake took a slight step back and flexed his arms as he opened and closed his fists.
The grubby creature leaped into the air and lunged into him. The force was severe enough to knock him down. They tumbled over several times in the thick mud. The impact sent ripples of pain through Jake’s spine. Before he could recover, the beast was on top of him, clawing at his face. Jake shoved it off with his forearm. His closed fist landed hard on the side of its head. It yelped in pain and scrambled away to avoid another blow. Jake quickly scrambled to his feet. He knew being on the ground would be to the advantage of the beast and meant sure death. It didn’t hesitate long before resuming the attack. It charged with its head lowered. Before Jake could react, it rammed its head into his stomach, causing him to rock back on his feet and double over in pain. It didn’t knock the wind out of him, but it hit hard enough to make him cringe.
Jake was angry. He turned around in circles, searching for the beast. Where did it go? He knew it was near, and he chas
tised himself for not keeping an eye on it. He could hear its heavy breathing. It blended into the surroundings like a territorial reptile. Jake turned slowly, listening for a clue to its exact location. He heard it moving, coming toward him. The sound of its feet making contact with the slushy mud gave it away.
Jake swung wildly in the air, punching and jabbing but not connecting to any flesh. He knew it was near; he felt its hot breath on his neck. The creature growled as it sprang at him. Jake sidestepped at the last second and jabbed hard with a right cross. His fist connected in a fleshy area of its midsection. The blow sent the creature tumbling into the dirt. It recovered quickly and charged with its head lowered, its horns aimed squarely at Jake’s torso. He dodged at the last second and grabbed hold of a horn. It struggled to get away, flailing and clawing at its captor, but Jake held on tightly with both hands. He swung the creature around in a circle, picking up speed with each revolution. He spun around harder and faster until the scruffy creature was lifted off the ground. It was suspended parallel to the ground. Jake continued to spin and increase his speed. The beast was silent. It appeared merely as a blur as it swung through the air. Jake let go of the mangled horn, sending the monster hurtling into the trunk of a mature oak tree. He heard a loud crack upon impact. It collapsed on the ground with a thud.
Jake was out of breath and soaked in sweat. He searched the sky and zeroed in on Seneca, looking for confirmation that his plan had worked. He started to wave but flinched from excruciating pain. Something with a sharp edge pierced his skin. He tugged at his leg and felt a clawed hand wrap around it, gripping and scratching at his ankle. Just as he’d feared, there was more than one beast. He kicked with his free leg, connecting to the side of its head. The gnarly horned beast squealed and retreated a few feet away. It bared its teeth as it crouched low and rocked. It was regrouping for a return attack, but it paused. Jake heard more growls in the distance. They were getting closer. The creature was waiting for reinforcements. It was not going to attack again without help.
Jake had never felt so frightened. He swallowed hard. He didn’t know which direction to run. His eyes filled with tears; he was outnumbered. He had two options: escape or fight to the death. He was desperate for a weapon. He felt a wave of nausea rising. He’d never considered himself a fighter, yet there he was, battling for survival. He could hear Seneca’s faint voice overhead, but he couldn’t risk losing concentration. It was best that she stay away. He hoped she wouldn’t be tempted to return.
As a high school wrestler, he’d been taught to exercise discipline and to trust his instincts and utilize patience. He had also learned ways to expose an opponent’s weakness. So far, he was using only instincts and reflexes. He let out a deep breath. His hands trembled from the adrenaline that pumped through him. He was exhausted. He could smell the odor rising from his armpits, but it was distinctly different from the foul smell the beasts transmitted. The closer the growls got, the more pungent the smell became. The stench consumed the fresh air, and he worried about suffocation.
Jake coughed. He stayed rooted to his spot. He focused on breathing shallowly. He tried not to open his mouth, but it was unavoidable. He was disgusted by their rancid smell and the bitter taste it left in his mouth. He spat on the ground but didn’t dare shift his attention. He watched one after another of the dirty beasts surround him. He counted seventeen of them, which included the one whose eyes remained fixed on him while it clawed at its injured head.
They began growling and clicking their tongues and then made chirping sounds in unison. Jake wondered if the sound was a form of communication or a battle cry. Their sticklike legs were bent and hovered over grass-encrusted, filthy feet. They crouched lower to the ground and swayed in time. The moon gave the perfect cast of light to the clearing. Jake was able to make out the details of their marred faces; they were contorted and menacing. They had spindly arms and root-like hands with appendages that extended in multiple directions. Varying amounts of debris covered their muddy bodies. Each was a chameleon to the landscape.
“What are you waiting for—an invitation?” He goaded them rebelliously.
The mob grew quiet. Jake focused on slowing his breathing. He bent down slowly and picked up a thick maple branch. He wiped away some of the mud to get a secure grip. He noticed the wood fit firmly in his palms as he wrapped both hands around it. He pulled his arms back; his elbows were squared to the ground. He held the branch high, just above his head, as he rotated it in small circles. He spread his feet wide apart and centered his body while he placed more of his weight on his back foot. He steadied his frame and squared his shoulders.
“Have you ever experienced baseball and the power of a designated hitter?” Jake asked, although he was not anticipating a response.
One beast slightly taller than the others stepped forward. It had numerous branchlike horns protruding from its head that curved in different directions. Instinctively, Jake was sure it was their leader. It tilted its head from one side to the other. It raised an arm and then dropped it to its side. It was a signal for war; they charged.
CHAPTER FIVE
Fairy Venom
Shayna’s sword hummed as it slashed through the night air. She was winded, but she refused to let up. It was crucial that she maintain her advantage. She had no idea how many of the winged creatures were surrounding them, but she continued to swing hard with the purpose of destroying all of the attackers. She was uncharacteristically calm. Her persistence had become her protective armor. Her cheerleading training had given her agility and precision in executing effectively. She believed her athleticism gave her an edge. With each swing, she felt her confidence grow. Her arms were tired, but her reflexes would not relent.
Shayna sensed movement. She spun and wielded her sword closer to her body. The blade responded with a timely block, followed by a quick counter-maneuver into a downward thrash; her illuminated sword vibrated. She had taken three creatures out with that single strike. Her endurance was keeping her in the fight. She knew she was reacting in defense, but she still shuddered each time a combatant screamed out in agony. They were approaching from all sides without pause. Her empathy for the enemy was completely void.
She caught a glimpse of Conner, who was punching through the air with incredible speed. She knew his quickness had to be the influence of the crystals, because his movements were a blur. She could hear the sounds of the enemy meeting their demise repeatedly.
“Shayna, we need to get out of here! Head north like Seneca told us!” Conner shouted.
He took two winged beings down by slamming their heads together. He tossed them over his shoulders like a pair of dirty socks. His eyes widened as they searched the air for more.
“They’ve got us boxed in,” said Shayna. “It’s exactly what they did to Dreya.”
“Run for it! I will keep them off you,” said Conner.
“I’m not leaving you—no way! I’m not afraid of these nasty beasts!”
Shayna kept her sword moving. She could barely see the creatures approach until the last second. She focused on the buzzing sound they made, which gave an indication of their position in the air. It was easier to focus on the noise than to try to stay fixed on their flight patterns. They would dive in from above and below, which initially caught her by surprise. A few became tangled in her hair, but she was quick to grab hold and toss them aside. They didn’t weigh much, but they were sturdy and fixated on doing harm.
“I’ve had enough of you crusty gnats!” said Shayna. “Take that!” She sliced the wings off its back, and it shrieked as it plummeted to the ground.
“I don’t think we’re going to be able to keep this up!” yelled Conner. “There’s no end to them!”
He grabbed three out of the air and sent them crashing into a dry creek bed. Their bodies landed in a heap, and they remained motionless.
“I’ve got to keep fighting—for Dreya. I can’t give up!”
she shouted.
Shayna widened her stance; every muscle in her body tensed. She focused hard and screamed. It was a piercing sound that she hadn’t realized she was able to make, although she wasn’t surprised. She knew the root of it. Her sword grew more brilliant as it vibrated in her hands. She raised it above her head with both hands wrapped tightly around the hilt. She flipped it over as she simultaneously changed her grip and drove it into the ground. A wave of intensely bright light shot across the vast glen. The flying creatures closest to the center of the beam fell to the ground and were unresponsive. Those out of reach resisted coming any closer and immediately retreated. Their buzzing sound diminished as they flew farther away.
Shayna pulled the sword from the ground, and its glow faded as it vanished from sight.
“What was that?” Conner asked. He rubbed away sweat from his forehead. He was hot and exhausted.
“Ha! Who knows? I guess I have some hidden talents,” Shayna said. “Or maybe I was letting out some of my frustration on those flying rats!” She exhaled slowly. “Let’s get out of here before they come back.” The adrenaline rush caused her entire body to shake.
“I’m right behind you,” said Conner. He ached and welcomed the break, even if it turned out to be short lived.
Shayna took off running without hesitation. She didn’t slow down until she neared the top of the hill. She was breathing hard and could feel a cramp between her ribs. She massaged the area to relieve the ache.
“I think we’re in the clear now. This is the way Seneca and Jake came, right?”
“I’m not sure. Argh!” Conner shouted. “What is this?”
Shayna turned to check on Conner. She covered her mouth to muffle a scream. He had pulled the sleeve of his shirt up to expose his skin. His forearm was completely covered in large blisters. He winced in pain as he stared down at the mound of boils and blisters. She focused on calming a jolt of queasiness.