The Warden

Chapter 19

All about Charlan, Shadows darted passed in the ruddy light of Manu. She practically danced forward, rubbing her hands together. Fifteen wights accompanied her.

With her mindeye tuned to every flicker, convulsion, and sputter of lifelight about her, Charlan strode forward and leapt onto the roof of the Shadow colony's pavilion, balancing at its pinnacle on a single foot.

Some Shadows dashed for the tall grass outside the colony's border, their faces aghast, their breath ragged, pitched precariously headlong in their stride. Charlan's wights appeared before them in a swirl of shadows. Screams and shrieks pierced the night as the Shadows tripped to a stop and fled back the way they had come. The wights just grinned wolfishly at their backs. Some Shadows cowered back into the deepest recesses of their lean-tos only to be ripped from their paltry shelter. Those that had tried to escape spilled back into the colony's confines, colliding with those that had stayed in a mill of confusion.

Several of Charlan's party took up positions atop the lean-tos. Others chose to prowl about on the ground. Their movements packed the people together like sheep dogs cluster bleating lambs into tighter and tighter masses. They picked their way back toward their Mistress, ensuring none of the flock strayed.

Charlan clapped her hands together and quivered. So many choices. Where do I start?

Neither Mona or Mani had risen, but Manu strode out boldly above the horizon. Charlan stood atop the central structure without a sway, a dark spire from a nightmare limned in the moon's gory beams, none of her features discernible by those below.

Among the cries and whimpers, a Shadow whispered two words, hands clasped before him like a pleading invocation. At first, even to Charlan's keen, inhuman ears, the words were obscured by all the sounds of the milling beasts. They shook and sputtered. They moped and chittered. Their fear twisted and tortured the words into an unrecognizable state.

"Night Slayer."

Charlan made out the words, gasped from between trembling lips. Another person nearby repeated the words. Then another close by. Then another. More and more the wretches took to repeating the words. Soon they chanted the phrase, low and steady.

Charlan flicked her gaze this way and that. Her smile converted into a frown of incomprehension. She drew in a deep breath. Rust. An unmistakable scent. A wight had died here and recently considering how the smell lingered.

How in Manu's name did they manage to kill one of my own? she wondered.

Charlan cast about, trying to imagine how anyone could have gotten the upper hand over a night wight, especially someone from this miserable, flea-ridden place.

"Which one of you is Night Slayer?" Charlan's voice called out over the colony.

All other voices died away. Some of the Shadows tried to swallow. Others turned their faces to the ground. The rhythm of their breathing filled the silence.

"A wight has been killed here and within the last few days," said Charlan. Her lilting voice hardened with every word. "Who is this Night Slayer you were trying to summon in such a histrionic manner?"

Coughs. Wide-eyes. A few sniffles.

"Do you fear my wrath?" she asked, ameliorating her tone. "Do you think me merciless?"

Most averted their gaze from her dark outline. A breeze stirred her cloak and it billowed out behind her. Her silhouette morphed to grotesque and monstrous proportions.

"I can assure you that I am not angry. Quite the contrary. I am more than a little impressed that one of you had the gumption and ingenuity to perform such a daring feat. Come. Tell me who this 'Night Slayer' is so that I might congratulate him or her personally for achieving the seemingly impossible."