Circle of Enemies

I reached for my ghost knife again, even though it was already in my hand. I could feel it, like a part of me, ready to do what I wanted it to do. I’d learned months ago that I could “throw” it without moving my body at all; the spell went where I wanted it to go—there was no other way to explain its uncanny accuracy. But while the throwing motion helped me picture where I wanted it to go and made the spell faster, I didn’t need it.

I willed the spell out of my hand, imagining it zipping across my body and over my face. I felt the edge of it strike the predator several times, and the creature keened in its soundless way again. Its body peeled back where it had been cut, and the tension suddenly went out of it.

I kicked out, rolling myself onto my knees while calling my ghost knife back to me.

There was a sudden pressure against my ears; it was trying to get inside me by going through my eardrums. I scraped the ghost knife over one side of my head, and the creature suddenly leapt away from me.

I gasped, taking in air. My hands and head stung all the way up into my nostrils. I opened my eyes, feeling my eyelids burning where they folded.

The predator moved away from me, dragging parts of itself on the carpet. Instead of being a liquid shimmer, it was frayed, like torn rags blowing in the wind.

I threw my ghost knife at it, willing it to hit the center. It did. The thing split apart, turned pallid gray, and fell to the carpet with a squerching sound. Dead.

I felt a sudden rush of triumph and fury. I’d faced another creature from the Empty Spaces, and I’d beaten it. My mind seemed to rev into overdrive, but after a moment I realized I was just coming back to myself—the predator had tried to take my mind along with my body, but my iron gate had partly blocked it, and now I could think clearly again.

My whole body was drenched with sweat, and I gasped in heavy, ragged breaths. Damn, my whole head was really starting to burn.

I moved toward the bathroom. I’d definitely seen a second predator coming out of the tub, but was there a third, and a fourth? Was there a thousandth? As much as I was ready to take my victory and retreat, there was no one else here. I was the only one who could stop these predators. I had to open that bathroom door and fight.

The knob trembled slightly as something on the other side moved against the door. I reached out just as I saw a flicker of movement near the floor.

I jumped back. Another predator had pushed under the door, flowing through the narrow crack and protruding toward me. And I’d nearly stepped in it. I’d been so focused on the doorknob that I had missed the threat below me.

It struck at me like a hungry snake.

There was no time to think. I grabbed hold of the creature’s farthest end—it felt strangely like a muscle—and slashed the ghost knife through it. The predator collapsed, almost splashing onto the carpet, then vanished.

In a panic, I fell to my knees, gouging and slashing with my spell. I’d thought it had escaped somehow, and that I’d let a predator get loose in the world. Then the strange keening returned. The thing was still below me, but it had turned invisible. I kept cutting. After several more slashes, it turned a pallid gray and died.

Were there only two? If I opened the door, predators might flood out at me like a breaking dam. I crouched low, waiting to see if another predator would try to squeeze under, but I didn’t see anything. I swiped my ghost knife through the crack but didn’t connect with anything.

Fine. If there were more inside, they weren’t coming out. The stinging on my face and hands had become worse—it felt like every patch of bare skin the creature had touched was coated with a film of weak acid. The pain grew and grew, and eventually I had to act, because waiting made me think about the pain too much.

I shoved the bathroom door open, darted inside, and slammed it shut. The predators weren’t fast enough to have gotten out—at least, I hoped not. I yanked a towel off the rack and kicked it against the bottom of the door.

In the tub, I saw only a faint bath ring. The vast, deep darkness of the Empty Spaces was gone. Good. I didn’t have a way to close a portal into another universe.

But had more predators come through? I couldn’t see anything, but I hadn’t seen that second one after it went flat on the floor.

I bent down and swiped my ghost knife against the floor, barely splitting the linoleum, then I did it again and again. The marks spiraled out one from another, covering the whole floor and moving up the walls and cabinets. I made long vertical slashes six inches apart, then I stepped up onto the toilet and did the same to the ceiling.

I was especially careful with the window. I didn’t want to cut it open, in case a predator was looking for a way out. I did scrape through the wooden jamb and latch, though.

Then I fell to my knees and opened the cabinet under the sink. I cut through all of it, including the drainpipe. There was no keening sound, and while one of these predators might have escaped down the drain, I doubted it. The space under the door was much larger than the pipe, and it would have been a struggle to squeeze through.

Two. There had only been two. I was blearily glad that I’d turned on the air-conditioning and closed the bathroom window.

And I couldn’t stand the burning on my skin anymore. I’d forced myself to stay and search the bathroom carefully, but the pain had become unbearable.

I ran into the kitchen, stuck my head in the sink, and sprayed cold water into my hair. The effect was sudden and wonderful—my skin was still hurting, but the acid film dissolved and washed away on contact with the water.

I did my hands, my neck, and my face. Finally, I got a turkey baster out of a drawer, filled it with water, and sprayed the water into my nostrils several times.

Better. Better. I still felt the pain, but at least it wasn’t getting any worse.

I wandered back into the bathroom. It was all ruined, of course. Melly would need a contractor to come in here