Chapter 10

Eyes bleary and muscles barking in protest, Rory hardly had time to roll out of the way as another shriek split the night. And shattered the window on her side of the bad. The Harkscalen was near, she realized as her heart pounded.

Bianca heard it too, and the two were practically forcing themselves into leathers and cloaks. Lit by a single candle, Bianca shouldered her quiver and grabbed her bow with expert speed, and Rory belted her hunting blade. In the hallway, others had begun to congregate, looking around and whispering nervously. When Albert and Nicolas shoved into the open space, Rory was struck by relief that she didn't know she could feel, especially in a moment such as the one that had sprung upon them.

For a brief moment, everyone stood in the hallway above the tavern, laden with drowsiness and confusion. And then another shriek echoed through the building, breaking more windows. This time, it was accompanied by a blow that splintered wood and shook the building, and Rory heard a muffled chorus of startled horses as they squealed and whinnied. In that moment, any relief that she had felt upon seeing her friends was made obsolete.

As whispers turned to screams and the scene gave way to chaos, Rory had only one thought in her mind: get to the stables.

Forgetting how stiff and tired she was, she shoved through the panicked crowd, not bothering to see if the others followed.

"Did the Harkscalen follow us here?" Rory heard Bianca ask behind her.

"Unlikely", Nicolas answered as they raced through the tavern. Nicolas' grave tone only added to the gloomy panic that threatened to crush Rory's chest.

When she reached the stables, Rory practically threw the door open to find that chaos had already been unleashed. In their stalls, horses thrashed about, some kicking at the latched doors and others pacing nervously. Snow flew in from a gaping hole in the roof and beneath it the stablehand lay dead in the aisle, his fate sealed by a gnarled, bloody gash that ran across his chest.

Rory gasped in surprise but before she had time to feel sorry for the boy, Nicolas rushed toward a more pressing matter. When the stablehand had fallen, he carried a candle to light his way, and the hand that bore it dropped into an unfortunately placed pile of hay. Nicolas had nearly reached the candle when a draft blew through the barn, enough to set the hay aflame.

Rory bounded for the stall doors, opening them one by one and Albert did the same.

"Bianca, can you control it?" Nicolas shouted over the growing blaze.

"I'm trying", Bianca cried, "but the hay is too flammable and I can't keep up."

"Keep trying", Nicolas shouted back as he joined the others' efforts to fee the horses.

To protect herself from the smoke, Rory drew her scarf over her nose. The flames continued to grow, devouring the closest stall and licking the rafters. Outside, panicked screams grew louder as the loose horses thundered out.

Mercifully, Jewel's stall was several doors down from where the fire erupted. Despite the gravity of the situation, the mare still nickered at Rory's approach.

"It's alright", Rory whispered as she opened her horse's door and patted her neck.

As soon as her stall was open, Jewel bounded forward, eager to be free of the danger inside of the barn. It would be a miracle if she could ever convince her to go in another barn after this, Rory thought as the mare leapt past. But just as Jewel was nearly free, another shriek split the air and more wood shattered. As the Harkscalen landed, it was all Rory could do to watch as long, glinting black claws shredded skin.

Jewel squealed, the sound primal and born from a place and shock and pain. She reared up and immediately fell over, too much blood reddening her white hide and pooling on the floor around her.

"Jewel", Rory screamed as she bounded toward her.

Between them stood the Harkscalen, crouched over its near dead prey. But over Rory's dead body would the awful creature feast on her treasured companion.

"Rory no!" Bianca shouted as Rory bounded towards the beast, her pounding heart echoing her rage.

All too soon, the Harkscalen noticed her approach and whirled around in a movement as quick as lightning. As the last of the horses scampered past, the beast lowered itself and hissed, the sound guttural and predatory. So be it.

Forgetting the world around her, Rory lunged towards the Harkscalen, blade raised high and aimed for a clouded eye. The same eye that had been struck by Bianca's arrow a week prior. Only the Harkscalen was faster, and it was all Rory could do to jump out of the way as the barbed tail swung for her head.

Behind the Harkscalen, Jewel had somehow scrambled to her feet and limped into the street before collapsing again. Even with treatment, it would be a miracle if the mare survived long.

Shoving the thought behind her, Rory collected herself and scrambled into the street. Abandoning her efforts to control the blaze, Bianca did the same. With the threat of the Harkscalen, none made any move to quell the growing fire as it continued to destroy the barn and tavern. Not that the tossing of water filled buckets would make a difference. Given the current status, Rory thought grimly, it would take a heavy rain or a skilled Wavecarver to put out the inferno that had become the stables.

Unaffected by the flames, the Harkscalen stocked out of the burning building and let out another ear piercing shriek.

Ever void of caution, Albert was the first to lunge at the creature, only to be pinned down by a scaly, reptilian foot with too large claws. From behind, Nicolas leapt into action, leaping onto the thickly muscled tail and latching onto one of many scales to secure himself. But when he was nearly halfway up, the beast whipped its tail, sending Nicolas flying through the night. He landed next to the fountain with a thud, and did not get up again. Rory could only hope that he was unconscious and nothing more.

Albert still in its clutches, the Harkscalen growled. The sound felt like cold claws running down Rory's spine. Unsure what else to do, Bianca drew an arrow and angled it towards the Harkscalen's eye, just as she did in the Dil'Farans. Rory supposed that with others crowded in the street, she was hiding her magic for as long as she could.

The arrow hit home, piercing the same eye that had clouded over after the last encounter. The Harkscalen writhed in a rare display of pain, and a few gasped. One even cheered. But clumsy from pain, as the Harkscalen drew back, one of the claws grazed Albert's neck and he cried out.

"Albert!" Bianca exclaimed as she ran to her brother. Rory wanted to help as crimson blood began to pool on the snow dusted street, but her feet wouldn't move. The Harkscalen, at least, seemed to be retreating into the night but with two of her friends and her horse all close to dying, Rory had no idea how to move forward in this dreadful night.

But then, another blood curdling screech echoed in the night and Rory knew that the fight with the Harkscalen had hardly begun.

Most of the people who were congregated own the street had begun to flee, but Rory wasn't about to go anywhere. For what the creature had taken from her, she needed to watch it suffer. And so, while Bianca cradled her brother and sobbed, Rory sprung into action, leaping onto the beast as it barreled past. And she stabbed her blade through thick keratinous scales over and over until her vision blurred with sweat and tears.

Eventually, the beast shook her off, but she regained herself quickly and prepared to strike again. But another beat her to it.

"You killed by brother", Bianca roared, furious and heartbroken. Tears streamed her face and she stalked to her feet. As her amber eyes began to glow, Rory drew back a step and the fire that devoured the tavern began to shift, splaying long, dizzying shadows across the street.

And then those flames shifted into a massive fireball that flew towards the Harkscalen. Bianca screamed with exertion, and Rory rushed to her side. Bianca had explained once that a large display of magic was incredibly straining, sometimes even lethal if the wielder wasn't careful. With the weight of her brother's fate settling upon her, Rory guessed that Bianca had thrown said caution aside.

A quick glance at Albert made Rory's stomach drop, his body pale and limp on the cobbled street. She wished there was something, anything that she could do to stop that bleeding but a startled squeal had her attention snapping up to the Harkscalen where it wrestled Bianca's flames.

For a moment, all Rory could see was a mess of smoking flames and the swinging of a barbed tail. The smell of burning, swampy flesh tinged the air, and she fought not to gag as it struck her.

"You bastard!" Bianca shouted beside her. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks, and her entire body trembled. Despite dark of night, Rory could see that her skin had paled from exertion.

"You bastard." The second word came out hardly a whisper, and Bianca collapsed to the ground. Rory cringed as her friend's knees hit stone, but she caught her before she could fall completely. Her friend limp in her arms, Rory risked a true glimpse of the carnage around her for the first time. The remains of the tavern and the stable smoked behind them, charred wood snapping and ash wafting through the air. Before the entrance, Jewel lay in the street, too much blood streaking her back and pooling around her. She was still breathing, but those breaths were severely numbered.

A few yards away, Nicolas lay sprawled before the fountain, whether he was breathing, Rory could not see. And then there were Bianca and Albert, a heartbroken sister who lay limp in Rory's arms, inches away from her brother, whose chest had gone painfully still. It was all too overwhelming, and Rory felt a single tear roll down her own cheek. And despite her soul, hardened by years of servitude on Drao'hain and grueling Skepmadyr training, she cried. The sensation had become so foreign, a symbol of great weakness in Arcodyte culture, and yet she didn't stop herself. Not even as the Harkscalen freed itself from Bianca's flames, skin charred and weak, but still vengeful. As it padded towards her, Rory only glared at the creature, jade eyes meeting yellow ones. And she held that stare until the beast stood before her and they were face to face, Bianca's limp body still leaning against her own.

Rory's heart pounded, as if trying to beat as many times as possible before death but still, she refused to yield. And as the creature drew back to strike, its swampy scent tinging the air, a strange white light had begun to glow, illuminating the snowy ground with the milky glow of moonlight, only stronger. Before she could locate the source of the strange light, a deafening boom exploded through the air, the sound threatening to split her soul. Suddenly, she had to fight for her own consciousness, her legs wobbling as a wave of exhaustion crashed upon her. And as she collapsed to the ground the last thing she saw was the Harkscalen falling backwards, claws grasping at the night air.