Page 28 of Fire Bird

The crowd steps back, silently staring. Kayla is not a wolf anymore. She is a woman, crumpled like a rag doll, lying on the ground with her neck clearly broken. I wait for an onslaught of grief, or pain, or even an inkling that someone feels sad for her. Nothing comes; she’s dead, and no one cares.

* * *

Dread trickles down my spine. As if Kayla’s murder was a mere inconvenience, Eve carries on where Ragnor left off. The sun is descending more quickly now. A few minutes, and it will be below the horizon. Darkness will come.

Silence descends. Eve takes the chain from around her neck and holds the vial up in front of her. She waves her hand over it, muttering some kind of incantation we can’t hear.

I look at the others. We are paralyzed. We can’t do anything. We can’t stop it; we can’t even get close enough to try.

As Eve murmurs and chants, a darkness creeps over me. It is cold and heavy as it clings to my skin. I know this feeling. I sensed it before. The last time The Shadow King showed himself to us.

“He’s coming,” I whisper.

Kole looks at me, his pupils wide. “The Hunger.” He grips his chest. “The darkness.”

He drops to his knees and Luther crouches in front of him.

“He’s coming,” I whisper again as pain ricochets through my skull.

I look at Sam. His skin is so pale it is almost translucent. He drops to the floor too. I sink down and wrap my arm around him. “I feel him,” he whispers. “I feel him, Tanner. He’s coming.”

Mack is the only one still standing. He stretches his arms and braces his hands on two trees as if he simply refuses to bow to the evil that thickens the air.

I try to breathe out, but the air feels like it has congealed in my lungs. “We should run.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, a plume of white air puffing out with them. I look up at Mack, ashamed, but desperate.

“We are not leaving. Not without Nova.” He fixes his gaze on the vial in Eve’s hand. With a flourish, she removes the cap.

Kole growls and doubles over, clutching his stomach. “I smell her,” he mutters, almost a whine or a howl. “I feel her.”

When he looks up, dark veins snake out from the corners of his eyes. He licks his teeth. Luther sits behind him and wraps his arms firmly around Kole’s chest. I want to help, but I can’t. I can barely see straight. Fear, wonder, terror, darkness, and victory merge in a sickening whirlpool that scrapes the inside of my brain.

Sam is shaking. I hold onto him, but I’m not sure if it’s to help him or to anchor myself.

A vicious wind starts to blow. The trees tremble. Leaves fall. The sky becomes ink-black, the stars and moon already visible even though the sun has only just set and it should be impossible.

Eve turns to face the fountain. She tilts the vial. A drop of Nova’s blood falls into the basin. Then another, and another.

Kole lurches forward and digs his fingernails into the earth. Roots wind up and bind themselves around his wrists, holding him still, stopping him from running head-first into the barrier and begging for a taste.

When the vial is empty, Eve throws it into the basin. It shatters. A cloud of thick, black smoke swirls up, and Eve moves her hands through it as if she is weaving it into something beautiful. There is a shudder. The earth groans and The Hollow creaks.

Thick red liquid spills over the sides of the fountain. It is full and overflowing. Its central column splutters to life. Water, laced with Nova’s blood, pummels down into the basin. The wind blows harder, and the moon glows brighter.

I feel something on my face. Something wet. There are no clouds, but it is raining.

I hold out my palm. A drop falls into it, cold and vicious. But it is not rain. It is blood.

“Let it rain with the blood of The Phoenix! Let her power break the earth open!” Eve has climbed into the fountain. She is standing in it, blood-red water staining her white dress, pulling it tight against her spindly calves.

The wolves look up at the sky. Red rain batters their faces. Several start to run, but Eve sings out, “Those who run from his power will be devoured by it!”

So, they stay.

A cacophony of howling and barking shakes the air, but it’s not the wolves; it’s the Hellhounds. They emerge from behind the mansion in a pack and race toward Eve.

When they reach her, they put their front paws up on the fountain and lap at the liquid inside it. Eve bends down, allowing the front of her dress to become thick with blood, and strokes their heads.

“It is time!” She hollers at the sky.