Arc 2, Chapter 24: Night Vigil

  Mira returned carrying a wooden tray.

  Strips of clean cloth. A mortar filled with paste that smelled of herbs he couldn't identify. A bowl of water that steamed faintly.

  She set the tray on the table. "The light's better here by the fire. Don't move."

  Ash stayed in the chair. Across the room, Elian lay in bed.

  Mira moved behind him. Her fingers found the torn fabric of his shirt, peeling it away from the wound beneath.

  "This is worse than I thought." She leaned closer, examining the edges. "The corruption hasn't rooted yet. Lucky. Another day and herbs wouldn't touch it."

  She applied the paste. Ash felt the cool, then the sting, his gaze following her hands as she eased the medicine in.

  "What bit you?" Her voice stayed steady, professional.

  "Corrupted creature." Ash looked forward. "Underground."

  "Kyle and the others mentioned a goblin nest." She reached for the cloth and began winding it around his shoulder. "Didn't catch much after that." She tugged the bandage tight. "Someone decided to wander off bleeding." Her eyes flicked to his face.

  "At least those three had the sense to stay put." She tore the end of the bandage and dropped the rest back on the tray. "They've been around the village for two months now. Everyone knows them. Loud voices, big smiles, always eager to help with anything." She shook her head. "They tell everyone they're heroes from another world. Every chance they get. Like children proud of a secret they can't keep."

  A quiet laugh escaped her.

  "There." She stepped back, wiping her hands on a rag. "The herbs will draw out what's left. Change the bandage tomorrow, and again the day after."

  She moved around the table, sat in the chair across from him.

  Ash tested the shoulder, rolled it once. "Thank you."

  Mira's eyes had drifted to the bed. To her brother.

  Ash followed her gaze.

  "Your brother—"

  She set the rag down.

  "—has he been like this long?"

  She didn't answer right away. Her hands found each other in her lap. One thumb pressed against the other, slow circles against her own skin.

  "He was going to be a scholar." Her voice came quietly.

  Ash looked at the books stacked on the small table beside Elian. Spines cracked from use. Pages marked with faded ribbons.

  "Those are his?"

  "He'd read three at once." A small breath escaped her. "Different languages. Histories nobody remembered. Always chasing questions I couldn't understand."

  The fire popped. A log shifted in the hearth.

  "What happened to him?" Ash kept his voice low.

  "Four months ago. Maybe five. A wolf attacked him on the road from Creston. He sensed it coming. The corrupted mana gave it away. But sensing and escaping are different things. It bit his shoulder."

  Her eyes met his.

  "Valendris knights."

  She held his gaze for a moment.

  "They reached him in time. Killed the beast. Carried him back to me."

  "He traveled alone?"

  "Stubborn." Her fingers twisted in her lap. "Never let me go with him. Said I fussed too much."

  She touched her own shoulder. The same place Ash's wound sat beneath fresh bandages.

  "The corruption moved fast. Dark veins crawling toward his chest. Fevers. Forgetting words. Forgetting me."

  Ash leaned back in the chair. "Your medicine didn't work on him?"

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  "Two weeks of them." Her hands stilled. "Watched him slip further every morning."

  She looked at the bed. Mira tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Said nothing for a moment.

  "So I went to Valorheim. The capital has new medicines. Revolutionary, they called them. Potions that could purify corrupted mana in days."

  Ash watched her jaw tighten.

  "The merchant promised results. Fresh batches work fastest, he said. Don't wait. So I took everything and headed back."

  "How long did it take?" Ash kept his eyes on her face. "Getting back."

  "Should have been three days." Her voice went flat. "Roads were choked. Otherworld heroes moving knights north. Every inn packed. Every cart seized."

  She paused. The fire cracked again.

  "Eight days." She looked away.

  "By the time I walked through that door, the bite had turned black. He couldn't lift his head."

  Ash looked at Elian. "The potion. You gave it to him that night."

  "Every drop." She gestured at the bed. "For a few hours, the veins faded. His breathing eased. I thought—"

  She stopped mid-sentence. Ash glanced at her. Her hands gripped her robe.

  "Then he collapsed. Stopped eating. Stopped speaking. Stopped everything."

  Mira smoothed her robe. Folded the edge. Unfolded it.

  "I thought I was helping him."

  Ash noticed the shadows beneath her eyes.

  "You look exhausted. No one else to share the work?"

  Mira's gaze drifted to the shelf by the door.

  "The village has been difficult lately. Fevers. Headaches. I barely finish with one patient before another comes."

  She hesitated. "I'm the only healer here."

  Ash followed her gaze. A small painting on the shelf. Two figures, faded with age. A man and woman standing behind two children.

  "Our parents." Her voice softened. "Gone a long time now. Just us since then."

  She stood. Smoothed her robe. Her gaze drifted to the window. "You're not walking anywhere tonight. That shoulder needs rest. There's a mat by the hearth. Use it."

  Ash looked at the bed. At Elian.

  He nodded. "I'll take the mat."

  "My room is downstairs." She headed for the basement door near the entrance. "Call if you need me." The door closed behind her.

  Silence settled over the room.

  Ash lay on the mat near the hearth.

  The fire had burned low. Embers glowed orange. Across the room, Elian's bed sat in shadow.

  Ash closed his eyes. Opened them.

  The Crimson Eyes were active. He hadn't called them. They came on their own, flooding his vision with what lived inside Elian's body.

  He tried to let them fade. Relax the warmth behind his eyes. Let ordinary sight return.

  Nothing.

  He shifted on the mat. Exhaled. Tried again.

  The Crimson Eyes held.

  He pressed his palm against his face. Held it there. Pulled away.

  Still burning.

  *They're reacting to him. To what's inside him.*

  His hand fell to his chest.

  *I know this. I've read about this.*

  The fire popped. A log crumbled into embers.

  *What was it called?*

  He shifted on the mat.

  *I remember reading about it. Reports from the aftermath. Dozens dead before anyone connected the symptoms.*

  Across the room, Elian's chest rose. Fell.

  *The cases started... when? Three years from now? Four?*

  A draft moved through the room. The shadows stretched.

  *But it's here. Already.*

  *A parasite. Needs a host first. But one body isn't enough.*

  He looked at the bed. At Mira's chair beside it. At the books stacked on the table.

  *She's exactly what it wants.*

  *Someone close. Bound to the host. By blood. By love. The parasite feeds on that connection.*

  *She spreads it without knowing.*

  He thought of the villagers. The headaches. The fevers. Mira treating them one after another.

  *The vector. Their mana changes. And when they use magic on others...*

  *The name. What was the name?*

  The fire cracked.

  *Bond Leech.*

  *That's it.*

  *But why is it here now?*

  He stared at the ceiling.

  *Mira went to Valorheim. Bought medicine. Gave it to Elian. Then he collapsed.*

  *The potions? From the capital?*

  He turned on his side. Faced the bed.

  *I need to look into this.*

  Ash heard something. Faint. From across the room.

  He lifted his head. Scanned the walls. The door. The window.

  Nothing.

  His eyes moved to the bed. To Elian.

  A twitch. Small. Elian's hand against the blanket. Then stillness.

  Ash watched him.

  Seconds passed.

  CRACK.

  His eyes shot to the window.

  A beetle bounced off the glass and tumbled into the dark.

  He exhaled. Settled back onto the mat.

  The hearth had faded to a dull glow. Most of the room sat in shadow.

  The Crimson Eyes stayed open.

  Scratch.

  Ash stilled.

  Silence.

  Scratch.

  Longer this time.

  Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

  Crack.

  Scratch.

  The sound moving up.

  Ash turned his head.

  The bed was empty.

  A spike of cold down his spine.

  He rolled.

  A heavy thud behind him. The sound of boards splitting.

  He came up in a crouch. Dagger drawn. Turned.

  A dark limb driven into the floor where his head had been, stretched too long. The joints bent at wrong angles. Fingers scraped against broken planks. Skin blackened. Veins thick beneath the surface.

  It wrenched free. Splinters falling.

  Ash followed it up.

  Elian hung from the ceiling. His arms had thinned and lengthened, extra joints bulging under the skin. Legs twisted backward at the knee. Skin darkened in patches, black spreading where pale flesh had been. His head turned down toward Ash, neck rotating past where bone should stop. Mouth open. Jaw slack. Eyes empty.

  Then the sounds came.

  "...languages..."

  His jaw twitched.

  "...roads... fresh..."

  His fingers scraped the plaster.

  "...medicine... bite... eight..."

  His head jerked sideways. Neck cracking.

  "...shouldervalorheimsavingwolftoolongtoolong..."

  "...eightdayseightdaysscaboroadsthoughtsavingbookschoked..."

  His mouth kept moving but the sounds had stopped making sense.

  His body trembled.

  He launched himself from the ceiling.

  Ash rolled.

  The floorboards exploded. Wood splintered and flew as the creature crashed through, claws shredding the heavy planks like paper.

  Ash found his feet. Dagger steady in his grip.

  The creature pulled itself from the crater it had made. Limbs bending backward. Joints clicking with each movement.

  Slowly.

  It took a step toward him.

  Then stopped.

  Its empty eyes fixed on his chest. On the place where the Seed pulsed beneath his ribs.

  The creature didn't advance.

  Ash's hand tightened on the dagger.

  They stood in the ruined room.

  The creature. Ash. Neither moving.

  Embers glowed faintly in the hearth. Shadows stretched across broken walls.