♀♥♂♂♂♂
I’m beginning to think Pilot doesn’t know where he’s going. If it weren’t for the sweat along his back and the frantic wing beats, this trip wouldn’t be any different than a wandering stroll—if one could stroll while flying as fast as possible.
And that damned shadow mist—Jean-Claude—is still behind us. Granted, it’s not as close as it was, but it’s still there.
Everly, I hear his voice inside my head. The incubus can help Jean-Claude how? Pilot seems suspicious and flashes a side-eye towards me.
I can understand his confusion. In normal circumstances, there’s no way an incubus could affect a vampire. Vampires have no life force to give. But early this afternoon, when Harlow seemingly sucked the life out of the count, it was actually Faunus giving Harlow a meal, not Jean-Claude. Armed with that knowledge, I know Harlow has the best chance of saving the count.
“It doesn’t make sense, but Harlow can help Jean-Claude,” I start, not wanting to get into the nitty-gritty of what’s happened. I figure if Jean-Claude wanted Pilot to know he was possessed by Faunus, Jean-Claude would have already told Pilot. “Trust me… please.”
The winged equine bobs his muzzle. Very well.
The lights below are from the city. Harlow mentioned his family was an affluent part of Dread. I’ve often wondered what his life was like outside of saving dryads at train stations or giving master vampires a hard time.
My first incident in the train station wasn’t very pleasant, but now, the city below is a cacophony of beautiful lights. They are patterns of star clusters against chaos. The different buildings shine like constellations in the night, guiding my flying mount.
It’s beautiful.
I just can’t enjoy it.
In the pit of my stomach, I feel sick, frantic, confused and hurt. My mind is a jumble of events. Ideas pass too quickly to take a firm hold of any of them. Riddle is getting heavier, and my grip on Pilot is growing looser.
Pilot snorts.
“What’s wrong?” I double my effort to keep a firm hold of the Pegasus. Falling off from this height… well, let’s just say it wouldn’t be a good idea.
The incubus keeps moving, Everly. And he seems to be headed towards Castle Raven Night.
“No,” I say, my heart dropping. If Harlow goes to the castle and runs into Jean-Claude... “The count will kill him.”
Pilot eyes me. Do you wish to return then? To the castle?
“We have to. We have to stop Harlow.”
Pilot nods and sets a new course. He puts it in mega-gear that streaks the sky with a condensation cloud. But just as fast as Pilot can go, we smack into a cloud of darkness. It’s the same one that’s been chasing us. It blots out the stars above and the city lights below. Each time we change course, it gets closer, and now it’s caught up to us.
Pilot whines and thrashes. Air slashes my legs and thin streams of blood trickle down my calf. Riddle growls and swats at the mist, throwing me off balance.
“Riddle, no!” The mixture of sweat, slippery Pegasushair, and my golem’s jarring movement have me cantered in position to slide off Pilot. If that weren’t bad enough, my ride is thrashing, bucking in the air and tossing his head. The strain on my inner thighs as I struggle to hold on is too great, and I start sliding sideways. “Pilot! Help!”
He doesn’t or can’t respond. The black cloud swarms, and I can feel its dark thickness trying to enter my lungs and choke me.
Pilot beats his wings to outmaneuver the cloud, but it surrounds us, all the same. It’s cutting off my air supply and I feel my head growing dizzy as stars dance before my eyes. I’m losing my grip, millimeter by millimeter, as Pilot fights to free us from the cloud’s influence.
Riddle jumps forward, out of my arms, and starts hissing and grappling with the black mist. I grab fistfuls of Pilot’s mane as I start sliding off him. It’s a long way down, with a lot of spikey buildings to get impaled on.
When my lower body frees itself from Pilot’s back, I cling to his mane which I’m sure hurts him, but he makes no motion that it does. Regardless, my hands are growing slack and the black mist is surrounding my head, trying to force its way inside me.
I feel my fingers losing grip. I want to call out to Pilot but there’s nothing the winged horse can do. Riddle grips me by the shoulders and yanks me upwards, until I’m able to throw a leg back over Pilot’s middle. I cling to him and look down. We have to be a thousand feet up in the air, above all the pointed skyscrapers, and it’s unnerving. But Pilot twists and beats his wings in an attempt to outrun the black fog.
Yet it follows us like a rain cloud.
Riddle leaves my shoulders and fights the black mist like he can claw the air to make it go away, but it’s like fighting insects. There are too many.
Pilot dives down and the bottom of my stomach remains up in the clouds. He falls, wings folded, allowing gravity to take him. I want to scream, but the sound is caught in my throat as the mist still chokes me. Just as we get to the top of the rooftops, Pilot opens his wings and we pull up.
It’s even harder to hold on, and my legs break apart. The only thing in my grasp is Pilot’s mane. I’m losing my grip. Pilot climbs the air like a ladder until I swear I can see the desert beyond the
