Partisan - Book II

Part 2: The Monster

It's a soft blooming nightmare, a thing that should be buried deep in the soil but finds its way up. It's family memories, pressed down and muted, that splinter and bleed their colors through the cracks in his hands, and he can smell the acrid scent of charred hair and raw flesh again.

"Mom's going to be so angry with you, Lei-Lei," says his sister, or the thing wearing her tawny eyes, ashen and strange. "What do you think she's going to say when she hears you brought the Paragon home?"

Mom... Mom.

"Which one is it?" she presses, and her pale, thin fingers curl up and out, dotting at each of them in turn.

Eeny, meeny, miny...

All the metal gleams on her, sutured into flesh and trawling down bones, and she's some sort of phantom of the little girl he once knew pieced together in a steel monster and the only thing that comes to mind as he stands there, gaping, is:

What did she do to you?

Isati tilts her head and moves, sinuously, more liquid than solid, more reptile than human, but the vacant things behind her stay still. Their masks are pale and colorless, moon-shaped faces filled with wide eyes and cracked smiles. He doesn't know them, but he remembers broken words and arms on training mats, and glee sparking in those tawny eyes at these jarring moments, but also the fear behind them, the fear behind the hard fist.

And what did you do to them?

She stops suddenly, her hand flitting back—a lure to distract her quarry.

"Unless it's you, Lei-Lei?" she suggests innocently, eyes widening in a mockery of the young face he knew, head leaning to the side as a sly smile crosses her lips. "Mom's going to be so surprised. Not surprised that you were too stupid to Skill metal first, but still..."

Somewhere, beyond all of this, he feels the weight of Allayria's gaze on him and then its absence.

I told you, he wants to say to her, but it isn't true. He didn't tell anyone. He buried it out back, deep in the dirt, like all the dead pets and things children need to forget.

It wasn't supposed to come back.

Isati's eyes lock onto his, and he thinks back to two children hiding underneath a bed, all knees and elbows, black hair falling out of braids and into wide, brown eyes that stare tremulously at the slowly turn of the doorknob.

Isi, why did you get out from under the bed?

"RUN."

The shout breaks the strange reverie as Caj and Allayria lunge forward, hands tearing up the screeching metal floor and shoving it toward Isati.

Allayria's fist latches onto Lei's upper arm and he is flung back, toward the southside window. He hears her fly after him as the metal shatters behind them. Shouts ring through the air and seven bodies hit glass, tumbling out into the unknown corridor.

Keeping track of everyone is futile, and the two of them spare only a quick glance back, taking in the scramble of the others climbing to their feet, of Tara pulling Hiran up, Finn hovering behind them, face flecked with blood.

But pursuers are not far behind and the creatures crash out into the hall in a jittery echo of the seven. Below the frozen masks the things' movements are uneven, twitchy, and they slink forward in a way that speaks more of childhood terrors than breathing people. Lei feels Allayria's hand pressing on his shoulder, shunting him back, as Isati appears.

She jumps through easily, her head twisting around toward the others so Lei can see the metal rings running all the way down her neck, beneath her armor. A spine of steel.

The fist on his chest becomes an arm as Allayria blocks his sister from his sight—and he from hers—shoving him down the hall as she too breaks into a run. He hears a crash behind them, the sound of pounding feet; at least one of the things gives chase.

Allayria pulls metal out of her pocket in strips, fashioning them into thin blades as the two of them sprint. They're weaving through some agriculture sector, dashing between rows of potted plants, and Lei flings a hand out, pulling a slew of twisting vines into his hand.

His skin twitches at contact. Stuttering, flashing images, hysterical begs, and high-pitched screams flicker across his mind as he touches the plant, commands it in a way that had brought fury down upon him the last time he Skilled on Jarles soil.

It had been a flower, drifting open and close for her. A flower, amongst all the ugly metal, the gloom, and the whispering shadows, and I had thought it was beautiful, and I had just wanted her to see.

The manic creatures are jumping onto tables and pummeling through chairs behind them, uttering a looping, jarring rush of gibbering that crackles up along the metal beams of this cage, ringing down the looming halls the pair flee to as they stumble in pursuit.

Lei and Allayria take a sharp turn, hands slamming into the cold wall as they twist. Their feet dig into the floor and it creaks ominously. He feels Allayria spin beside him, shoving a hand down to push back against the sudden rise of metal, and he turns behind her too, flinging out a thick barb of ice through the tangle of confused steel.

"Are those warscreamers?" she pants at him as it becomes her turn to be seized and shoved. They're in the outer ring of hallways now—the walls stone instead of metal here—and she swipes to the side, slamming shut a door that someone had begun to open. A muffled shout rings out, but the two of them are already turning down another corridor.

"No," he answers, and a slight tremor runs through his hands as they move, lightning-like, forming sharp spikes of ice. "They're Isati's."

"Who—?" she begins to ask, but then wall next to them blasts apart.

A/N: AH! Where do I start? New chapter artwork, new chapter formatting, new POVs. Welcome to the second half of the series. I am so excited we are here! Our first new head to crawl inside is Lei-Lei's, and he's not doing so well. Probably because his sister is nuts. More on that later.

(Also: don't fret, the thoughts and perspective of our favorite cheese-swiper and resident Paragon will continue to show up in chapters, she's just got some additional company now.)

In other news: happy belated Mother's Day to all the sleep-deprived moms out there! Special shout-out to my mom, the complete and utter opposite of Abadi Chaudri, who goes from Hufflepuff to Voldemort real quick if you mess with her kids. She is, in my totally unbiased opinion, the best.