Looking to the east, he inhaled deeply, raising his eyebrow at Memphis. “Ready?”
His friend mockingly bowed. “Lead the way.” They started walking, heading for the heart of the woods. Whatever lay ahead, they had until dawn to find their answers.
The hours slipped away. They walked in the still night, as the moon climbed higher into the sky, illuminating their way. Sweat trickled down Brokk’s temple as he whispered, “Okay, so according to this, to access the seer’s gateway, we present it with the blood of the questioner.”
Memphis paled, looking to him. Steeling himself, he flipped open a small knife from his jacket pocket.
“Right,” he mumbled more to himself than Memphis. Sucking in a breath, he stared at the blade’s edge. The sharpness of the weapon winked back at him, almost mockingly. One. Two. Three... It bit in hard, splitting his flesh. Blood welled and pooled on his skin. Hissing through his teeth as it dripped to the ground, he waited. The ground shuddered beneath them as his blood absorbed into the earth. Jumping back in surprise, they watched the trees bow before them, forming an intricate gateway. A blood-red ruby adorned on top.
“It actually worked.” Memphis’s voice sounded distant and in shock. It ground to a stop as he blinked hard, making sure he was seeing things correctly. Where a doorway should have been, the space remained empty and singed edges revealing a cavernous room. The floor was jet black, the odd ember floating a few yards in front of them, flaring with fiery hues before winking out.
“It seems Adair didn’t disappoint me.” The voice was deep and ancient, a dead calm making each word ripple with malice. Squinting into the darkness, he saw nothing. Until two luminous silver eyes appeared, glaring back at them, with one intention. Hunger. Everything slowed.
Memphis scrambled for his weapon. The predator hidden in the shadows ran toward them. The clicking of too many nails, his senses screaming at him to react, to run, to fight, to do anything. His scream cut through Brokk’s core. “Brokk!”
The world stopped as he dropped his pack, shifting in one smooth motion. Only to see exactly what the Gortach was. In this form, his heightened senses picked up what his human one couldn’t. Everything was sharper to him in the night, maybe that was part of the reason he preferred it to the daytime. He took in the Gortach’s sickly body, its strong and multiple limbs propelling him forward. His rotting skin, sharp teeth, and the stench that collided into him, the promise of death.
Whining, he charged toward Memphis and his friend ran, swinging himself onto his back as they took off into the night, maneuvering through the trees faster than he thought possible. A roar crashed behind them, followed by the thunderous crack of splitting trees as the ancient creature tore after them.
“What did we do?” Memphis whispered, desperation and fear tingeing his voice.
Leaping over a fallen tree, the earth quaked, throwing his weight forward. Growling, he didn’t stop, fear flickering so many thoughts all at once, but one seared through him. Adair. Snapping his teeth, he swiveled hard left as the Gortach suddenly appeared by their side. It lunged forward, missing them only by a hair’s width.
“It stopped!” Memphis twisted, looking behind him briefly.
He flattened his ears flush against his skull as a ripple vibrated through the air. The forest went completely and utterly still. One howl sliced through the night. Then another. And another. His paws pounded against the forest floor, his nails digging into the earth and ripping away from it. A cold winter wind battered suddenly against them, sweeping through the trees. Bowing against it, he couldn’t stop. They had sought the truth and had unlocked another war just waiting for them. Snowflakes, dense and unyielding, dropped from the sky in masses, like crystalized diamonds.
“Snow? This early?” Memphis blinked against the magnitude of melting flakes hitting his skin.
Around them, tree trunks started to crystalize and freeze as the temperature started to drop. The once earthy bark became smooth and encased, the glimmering surface blending in with the storm that transformed the night in a harsh winter landscape before their eyes. Everything around them became white. Sniffing as deeply as he could, Brokk tried to pick up their scents so they weren’t heading in a circle, going in the wrong direction. He was met with nothing but the frozen tang of winter.
Slamming to a stop, he threw Memphis off, shifting back in a single motion. He choked. “I’ve lost our scents. Also, that seer has unleashed an army behind us.”
Memphis was immediately at his side. “We have to keep going, Brokk. Come. On.”
Nodding, he clutched at his panic in leaving his backpack behind. But, as every good student, he was armed to the teeth in his clothes. He took a step back, readying to shift again, when a solid sheet of ice formed in front of them, thick and impermeable. Stopping, the boys watched as the wall of ice flowed all around them. Closing them in. Reflecting their shocked faces back at them, distorted and gleaming.
His breath was ravaged, but he already had the knife palmed in his hand as he and Memphis moved into a defensive stance, their backs flush to one another. The wind howled viciously. Shivers raked his body, and his breath came in puffs in front of him in the night. The moonlight reflected off the snow-covered forest floor, illuminating the definition of the landscape more. Nothing stirred. His palms were so clammy,
