24.

  Faelwen

  “Faelwen, wake up!”

  A rough tug yanked the blankets from me, sending a chill through my bones. Groggily I opened my eyes, expecting to see my mother, but the memory faded quickly when I noticed Ash’s face looming over me.

  “What’s wrong?” My voice was a fragile whisper, still heavy with sleep.

  “We’re under attack. Get dressed!”

  No hesitation. No softness. He was gone before my pulse caught up with his words.

  Artemis’ trembling voice echoed in my mind. Those creepy stalkers from earlier… they’ve found us.

  The image of a Vexmaw flashed behind my eyes. Hollow sockets, a cavern for a mouth, teeth like jagged rocks. Fear dug its claws into my chest, but I moved. I had to move. My hands trembled as I dressed, pulling on leather and linen, fumbling with buckles. My bow, quiver, Ash’s dagger… all in place. My pack, heavy with the runestones, thumped against my back as I burst into the common room.

  Chaos reigned. Ayla and Golwend?r guarded the door, blades drawn, eyes sharp as a hawk. Ash was rummaging through his back looking for something, I don’t know what. Artemis trembled behind him. And Spook…

  Spook stumbled in half-dressed, wrestling with belts and daggers around his waist, muttering curses under his breath. One strap slipped loose, clattering to the floor. I darted to him, tightening it with shaking hands.

  “Thanks, little fox,” he said with that half-slanted grin, eyes still fogged by sleep.

  “Welcome to the waking word, sleepyhead,” I responded, ruffling his hair.

  He chuckled, pinching my cheek before darting to the table, snatching bread and dried fruit to stuff into a cloth. My heart gave a faint, absurd flutter at the ordinary motion amid so much fear. He noticed my stare and gave me a lopsided grin. “Breakfast for you, for when we’ve escaped whatever is chasing us.” He winked. I smiled back at him as my heart warmed. He was such a sweet man.

  Buddy?

  I’m here, Wen, Artemis’s voice brushed my mind, warm and steady as his fur against my leg. Golwend?r’s voice cut through the chaos. “They’re in the north corridor. If we run left at the end of this hall, we might reach the lower stairs before they catch us.”

  Another image of the Vexmaw echoed like a curse through my memories. Those distorted limbs, the glint of black acid dripping from their fanged tongues. My breath hitched.

  I’m scared, buddy, I sent. My fingers found his fur, needing the grounding warmth and familiarity of him.

  Me too, he whispered back. Then, softer, let’s make it a game, like you used to with your sister. Remember? Running through the woods, trying not to get caught…

  A ghost of a smile tugged at my lips. A game of tag.

  And so we ran.

  The hallway blurred, a tunnel of shadow and flickering lanternlight. My breath rasped like torn paper, lungs burning, legs screaming. The metallic taste of fear filled my mouth. Behind us, the shrieks rose, and the cries of dying men followed. We reached the end of the hallway and veered left. No Vexmaw in sight. With every door or entrance we passed, I held in my breath. Expecting at any point that a Vexmaw would jump out of the shadows in front of us.

  “There!” Ayla’s voice rang out, pointing toward a heavy oak door at the hallway’s end. “Our way out!”

  Hope flickered, brief and fragile. It died the moment Golwend?r pulled at the door and found out it was locked. With a frustrated grunt he slammed his sword against the door. The oak didn’t so much as splinter. Not even a dent.

  Spook was already kneeling, tools flashing in his hands. “I’ve got this,” he hissed.

  But fate had other plans. From the adjoining hall came a sound that froze me on the spot. An agonizing shriek like metal scraping on ancient stone. Two Vexmaw lunged from the dark, their contorted limbs a blur of twisted flesh and claw. Golwend?r and Spook moved as one, steel meeting shadow. Spook’s dagger trembled in his grip, just barely steadied by sheer will. Ayla’s arrow whistled past me, piercing clean through one of the creatures. It didn’t even slow.

  The air burned with magic. I reached inward, into the river of power that hummed beneath my skin. It answered like a storm waiting for a command and without a second thought I made way to the front. I gathered it and shaped it. A blast of wind, fierce and desperate. The magic tore through me and I released it through my hands. A blast tore through the hall, throwing the creatures back, but only for seconds. They blurred, blinked from existence and appeared in another space. Ash’s voice rose behind me, an incantation crackling like energy in a storm cloud. Ayla abandoned her bow for twin blades, a cry ripping from her throat as she slashed clean through one of the creature’s talons. It screamed and backed away a few feet. Golwend?r joined her, their movements weaving together in a deadly rhythm, each strike feeding the other. For a heartbeat, I forgot fear, caught in the beauty of it. Two souls fighting as if they shared one pulse.

  Then Spook’s movement caught my eye. I tried to mirror him, dagger in hand, trying to match his rhythm. But there were too many things to focus on and I faltered. The Vexmaw saw it’s opportunity and it’s tongue struck.

  Agony bloomed across my shoulder, searing, devouring my flesh. I screamed and stumbled back, but Spook shoved me aside, intercepting the next blow. “Back away!” he yelled, barely dodging another strike.

  I did as he commanded and backed away, but I wouldn’t let it get away with its attack. I raised my hand, light gathering at my fingertips. I remembered the light bolt I had send to them the last time. It had seared through their black armour. Before I could release it, one of the creature’s claws punched through Spook’s guard.

  It pierced his shoulder with a horrifying crack, lifting him like a doll. And threw him across the room. He flew over me, hit the floor hard behind. The sound of it tore something inside me open.

  “Spook!”

  The scream left me raw, trembling and lightheaded. Anger burned through the fear, hot and bright, until I could taste it like iron on my tongue. I raised my hand again and screamed, the sound coming from deep within. Light surged through the corridor, wild, merciless. The bolt exploded from my palm. The Vexmaw tried to vanish, too slow this time. As the light bolt tore through its chest, a blinding spear of gold-white fury devoured him. The creature disintegrated, collapsing into black ash that smeared across the floor like a shadow undone.

  Only one remained.

  Golwend?r and Ayla fought in perfect rhythm, blades flashing silver in the dim corridor. Then Artemis leapt forward with a snarl that vibrated through the air itself. His body collided with the Vexmaw, claws sinking deep into its corrupted flesh. He tore at its throat until the creature convulsed and fell, its body twitching in a pool of slick black fluid. The rasping breaths that followed sounded almost human… and then… mercifully it stopped.

  For a fleeting heartbeat, the world went still.

  Relief washed over us. I ran to Spook.

  The smell hit first: acid and charred fabric. His shirt was half-eaten away, flesh beneath raw and peeling, glistening wet with blood. He hissed when I touched him, trying to help him sit upright. “I’m going to heal you,” I said, my voice trembling but sure. I could not lose him. Not Spook.

  Not my Spook.

  “We don’t have time.” Ash’s voice cut across the space, firm and commanding. A flash of anger burned through me and I glared at him. He strode toward us, coat singed, eyes glinting with quiet resolve. Behind shimmered a rift. An open wound in reality. A portal.

  My breath caught. Blackness yawned within it, endless and suffocating, carved by a single golden path that stretched into the void. Recognition struck like ice cold water.

  The Underworld.

  The place that haunted my dreams, all dread and silence.

  “Where does that lead?” Golwend?r demanded, his blade still slick with Vexmaw ichor. He was kneeling beside Ayla, binding her leg with a strip of torn cloth soaked in blood and acid.

  “A place the Fiend won’t look for us,” Ash said sharply. “As long as we stay quiet. No magic and no light. We’ll leave no trace.”

  He knelt beside Spook and gathered him effortlessly into his arms. “I’ve got you, buddy,” he murmured tenderly, so soft I almost didn’t hear it. Spook groaned his head leaning on Ash’s shoulder, half-conscious, his face drained of all colour.

  “Please,” I said, reaching out, grasping Spook’s cold fingers. “Let me heal him, Ash.”

  Ash’s eyes met mine, dark and unyielding. “No.”

  The word was a command, not a refusal. His gaze carried that familiar warning, one I’d learned not to challenge.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “They’ll find us if you cast a spell again,” he added, his voice softer but no less firm.

  “But you used magic to open that portal,” Ayla spat, struggling to her feet despite the acid burn on her leg. Golwend?r caught her elbow, but she waved him off, stubbornly.

  “This portal was made with a keystone,” Ash replied. “It carries the signature of every creature bound to the Fiend’s realm. He’ll sense it, but the Underworld is vast. Too vast to search if we stay hidden. We won’t linger. I know where we can go.”

  His confidence didn’t ease the dread curling inside me. Before anyone could speak again, another shriek split the air. Closer this time.

  Two more Vexmaw emerged from the far corridor, their shapes writhing in the half-light. Shrieks of joy erupted from their gaping maws at seeing us trapped in the hallway. Golwend?r turned, sword gleaming. “Go!” he barked. “We’ll hold them off. Get the stones to Caradsher?n!”

  “We will,” I promised, voice cracking. I hesitated, just for heartbeat, long enough to meet Ayla’s eyes and see the fierce, fearless glint in them. Then I turned and ran, following Artemis and Ash carrying Spook into the dark.

  I don’t trust this, Wen, Artemis’s voice whispered through my mind, uneasy as he slowed down to walk beside me.

  You trust Ash, I countered, though doubt gnawed at me too. Why would he bring us back to the Underworld? The golden path shimmered beneath our feet, suspended over an endless abyss. Shadows moved in the black, too far to see, yet too close to ignore.

  I trust that he’ll protect you, Artemis said after a pause. But that’s about it.

  Spook groaned ahead of us, faint and broken.

  “Are we nearly there?” I asked. “How is he?”

  Ash didn’t look back. “He’s holding on.”

  That was all. Behind us, the portal sealed with a whisper, cutting off the last thread of light from the living world. Now there was only darkness. And the golden road winding endlessly ahead. I drew a long breath. And walked forward. It felt like we’d been walking for ages, through silence thick enough to hear our own hearts, before a shimmer of runes appeared ahead. The air rippled, bending light around a portal edged in burning symbols. Within it swirled an eerie yellow-grey glow, and beyond that shimmered the blood-red moon of the Underworld.

  We were back.

  As I stepped through, the familiar weight of the realm settled over me. Heavy. Suffocating. The air buzzed with faint static, and my breath came out pale in the gloom. Nothing looked familiar. My fingers brushed Ash’s sleeve before I could stop myself. He looked down, eyes softening at my touch. A rare, warm smile flickered across his face.

  “Don’t worry, darling,” he said, his voice warm and soft. “I told you, I know exactly where to go.” A quiet promise.

  I nodded, though uncertainty churned inside me.

  “Also,” he continued, the smile fading back into command, “Don’t use your magic. Follow my lead. And if you hear something… anything calling your name or screaming for help…” he clenched his teeth. “Ignore it. Don’t respond. No matter what.”

  I swallowed hard. Artemis padded beside me, giving a small, uncertain huff as if to say you heard the man.

  We followed Ash deeper into the dim landscape. The smell of sulphur hit first, sharp and bitter, searing the back of my throat. Marshland stretched around us, sluggish pools of black water broken by patches of dry grass. It was slightly drier than the Marshes of the Fiend, but it gave the same eerie feeling. Mist drifted low across the ground, ghostly and thin. There were no insects, no birds, just the occasional ripple as unseen things moved beneath the surface.

  In the distance, a forest loomed like a bruise on the horizon. And far beyond that… mountains?

  I had never known the Underworld had mountains. The quiet was unbearable. Every splash of water felt too loud, too alive.

  Spook had stopped making sounds, no groans, no half-breaths, and dread knotted in my stomach. His arm hung limp in Ash’s grasp. I walked closer, reaching for his hand, cold and unresponsive in mine.

  “Com on, buds,” Ash murmured, his voice low, roughened by strain. “Don’t give up now. We’ve come too far for you to give up now.”

  I clenched my teeth and squeezed Spook’s fingers. You don’t get to leave us, I thought. Not like this.

  If we didn’t find a healer soon, I’d use magic no matter what Ash said. Consequences be damned.

  But before I could voice it, a shape rose from the mist ahead.

  A house.

  Perched on a small hill above the marsh, a wooden cottage leaned beneath the weight of a big willow tree. Its branches hung low, brushing the mossy ground like fingers. The garden around it was wild and strange, filled with dark flowers and herbs that seemed half-dead, half-thriving. Some drooped like they were mourning, others stood rigid and defiant, petals the colour of dried blood.

  Ash motioned toward the door. And I knocked.

  No response.

  I knocked again, louder this time.

  “I heard you the first time!” a raspy voice snapped from within. “So impatient these days.”

  The door creaked open, and there stood an old lady with a braid of silver hair and eyes that shone with impossible warmth for a place like this. Her apron was dusted with flour and herbs.

  “What can I…” she began, then froze when her gaze landed on Ash. Her face softened, almost breaking. “Oh, my poor lamb.”

  “Hello, Auntie Hattie,” Ash said evenly, his tone stripped of emotion. I looked confused at him. He shot me a warning look, sharp and fleeting. I said nothing.

  “Come in, come in,” she urged, bustling aside. “Put him on the table. I’ll fetch my things.”

  Ash laid Spook gently on the wooden table in the kitchen. His face was ghost-pale, his breath shallow.

  Artemis climbed onto a chair, nudging his hand with a wet nose. No response.

  “Spook?” I whispered. My voice cracked. Tears burned but didn’t fall. I held his hand tighter, unwilling to let go as Auntie Hattie returned with an armful of jars and vials that softly clinked together.

  “Who are your friends, lambkin?” she asked Ash, rolling her sleeves up as she examined the wound. She peeled away the fabric with care and I saw it. Flesh eaten through, muscle torn to shreds, a glimpse of bone beneath. I turned away, pressing a hand to my mouth.

  “These are Maeve, Matt and their pet wolf,” Ash said smoothly. Auntie Hattie nodded, eyes twinkling. “Nice to meet you, dearies. I’m Hattie, though everyone calls me Auntie Hattie. Is Matt the only one hurt?”

  I managed to shake my head, throat tight. My own shoulder still burned, but I didn’t dare look.

  “Don’t fret, lambkin,” she said kindly. “Auntie Hattie knows exactly what to do.”

  Her hands worked fast, grinding herbs, mixing salves that hissed faintly when touched by the air. The scent of them filled the room. Earthy, bitter and ancient. When she finally turned to me, her eyes softened. “Let’s see that shoulder, dearie.”

  The salve burned like fire at first, then dulled to warmth and finally release of the stinging sensation from the acid. Ash sat beside Spook, brushing a few stray curls from his forehead. His voice was almost tender when he asked, “Will he make it?”

  “Absolutely,” Auntie Hattie responded, tying off a bandage on my shoulder. “The ointment will mend him soon enough. Same for you dearie. You’ll both be healed by tomorrow.”

  Relief hit so hard I nearly swayed. He would be okay. My Spook would be okay.

  “Now,” Auntie Hattie continued, “is there anything else Auntie Hattie can do for you?”

  “We need a place for Sp… uh Matt to recover,” I said quickly, tripping over the false name and pretending I had to cough.

  Auntie Hattie laid a cool hand on my forehead. “You’re not falling ill, are you lambkin? Of course you can stay. I’ve only one guest room in my small house, but there are two beds. One of you may have to take the couch.”

  “That’s alright,” Ash said smoothly. “Maeve and I have shared a bed before.”

  I blushed, but said nothing.

  Auntie Hattie’s brow rose, a mischievous smile curling her lips. “I knew you’d find love someday, dearie. And she’s a pretty one, too. But the bed’s small, mind you. Barely fits one.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Ash said, already standing, Spook carefully cradled in his arms. “Will you show us the room, Auntie?”

  She gave an indulgent sigh and led us down a narrow hall that smelled faintly of thyme and smoke. Me and Artemis followed in silence. The cottage was exactly what one would expect from a place kept by an old woman. It was small and cosy. Floral prints covered nearly every surface, from the faded curtains to the pillows stacked high like clouds. Linen draped across every edge. Black candles flickered on low wooden tables, casting small pools of golden light that pulsed gently with each draft. The guestroom was narrow and cozy. Two narrow beds across from each other, a single nightstand between them. A worn ivory rug spread across the floor, its threads uneven from decades of footsteps. The air smelled faintly of herbs and something strange. Almost like iron. Blood maybe?

  Hattie drew back the quilted cover and helped Ash ease Spook into bed. His face was still pale, his breath shallow.

  “Let me know when he wakes, dear,” She said, straightening the sheets. “I’ll bring some warm soup. Do you want some as well?”

  We both nodded quickly.

  “And a bowl for the wolf too,” I added, glancing at Artemis. “He prefers his meals well prepared.”

  Artemis shot a look at me that clearly said really? And Ash snorted behind me.

  “Of course, lambkins,” Hattie chuckled. “I’ll be back in a moment.” She left, closing the door softly behind her.

  I sank down on the edge of the bed, letting the weight of the day fall from my shoulders. My backpack thudded to the floor. Ash sat beside me, slipped an arm around me, and pressed a soft kiss to my temple.

  “What is this place, Ash?” I whispered, wary of being overheard.

  “It’s the only place I know the Fiend won’t follow us,” he murmured back just as quietly, pulling me closer. “Auntie Hattie is one of the oldest and most powerful hags in the Underworld.”

  My breath caught. “A… W…What? A hag?”

  He nodded, eyes wandering towards the closed door.

  “They were once not much different from you, female wielders of magic. All of them human. But some reached too far, desperate for eternal life. Their greed twisted them, cursed them. Now they harvest souls to keep their youth, or trade them as currency in the Underworld. She’s not human anymore… but she’s safe. For now.”

  A chill rippled through me.

  Why bring us here? Artemis’ voice resounded in my head. I wanted to relay the question, but Ash simply said. “I heard him.”

  My eyes widened. “You heard him?”

  Artemis had always spoken only to me… or so I thought. Although there was the time he spoke to the dragonkin.

  Ash gave a faint smile towards Artemis. “Like I said, the Fiend won’t dare come near her. I met Hattie on a quest long ago. Nearly died that day, but she saved me. The Fiend fears her power.”

  I hesitated. “And she won’t harm us?”

  His thumb brushed my cheek. “No, darling. But don’t buy anything from her. And whatever happens…”

  He firmly grabbed my chin, angling me in a way I had to look him straight in his eyes. “Don’t trade your soul. Promise me.”

  “I promise,” I breathed, feeling a familiar warmth spread low in my stomach. A knowing smile appeared on Ash’s face and he let go of my chin.

  So…Buddy. You’re telepathic abilities also extend to other people. I send to Artemis. He grunted in response.

  Yes, Wen. I can when I want to. But I’d rather stick to the people who are familiar.

  Alright. You’ve been forgiven.

  Artemis shook his head and jumped onto the bed of Spook. Curling himself at it’s end around Spook’s feet.

  By the way, Buddy… I thought the Underworld was only monsters and tormented souls.

  There are many kinds of creatures here, he replied. Hags once walked the Mid Realm, until they were banished. Alongside drakes, fiends and others who overstepped their bounds.

  I thought fiends were devils, I said, confusion prickling.

  In a way they are, he answered calmly as if giving a history lesson to a child. But fiends are higher rank devils. Once rulers of their own domains. The Underworld was once divided among them. The current Fiend slaughtered the rest. Now only he remains. None may rise again.

  Before I could respond, Ash’s voice broke through our silent exchange. “Spook’s waking.”

  I rushed to his side as his lashes fluttered open with a soft groan.

  “Spook?” I whispered, brushing his slightly fevered cheek. “You’re safe. We’re safe.”

  Ash adjusted his pillow so he could sit up.

  “There you go, buds. I told you, you’d be okay.”

  Spook blinked slowly, his throat rasping. “Where…?”

  “We’re in the Underworld,” I said softly. “But we won’t stay for long.”

  He nodded weakly, then forced out one broken word. “E… Elora?”

  My heart clenched. I shook my head, and the pain in his eyes cut through me like glass. His lids fell shut, and a single tear slipped down his cheek. I bowed my head over his chest and squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry, Spook.”

  Ash brushed the tear away. “I’ll fetch Auntie Hattie for soup.”

  When he returned, we ate in silence.

  Ash insisted he help spook lift the spoon, patient as an older brother feeding his younger sibling. The candlelight trembled around us, shadows breathing across the floral walls.

  I sighed. For just a fleeting moment, I tried to let myself believe that maybe… just maybe… things might still turn out all right in the end.