By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(43)

“Maybe you should give it a try? I mean, the cyclops called you a mage, right?”

“It wouldn’t work. I don’t have anything to channel the magic, even if I had any to channel. Besides, don’t you have fairy magic you can use?”

“I can try, but my fairy half is pretty weak compared to my dragon side.” I focused on pulling what little fairy magic I held and sent it into the fog. Small fireworks went off, then all went quiet, the mist just as heavy as ever. “It’s no use.”

“So what do we do now? I’m not even sure I could find my way back. We can’t go on like this though.”

As he spoke, my eyes were becoming more accustomed to the mist. I still could only see indistinct shapes. I did notice we were standing on a well-worn stone path though.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“A path.”

“You can see the ground?” Quinn seemed genuinely impressed. I don’t know how humans managed to get around at all. Blind, practically deaf, and no sense of smell. How they’d survived this long, I couldn’t even imagine. Uncontrolled breeding and pure stubbornness, probably.

Placing his hand on the back of my tunic, I urged him to get a strong grip on the fabric. Not ideal but it would do. I stepped forward and kept my eyes on the path. It was slow going, the trail winding suddenly in one direction and then another. For all we knew, the path could lead away from Burningwood’s manor, but it seemed like our best option.

Time seemed to stop as we shuffled carefully, the stones slippery from the mist. At places the path became very narrow and I was pretty sure if the fog cleared we’d find a sizeable drop off on either side. Quinn slipped more than once, but held firm, his grip on my shirt keeping him upright. My wardrobe wasn’t going to survive this adventure.

“Careful where you step,” I said.

“It’s not like I can see anything,” he grumbled. “I have to take your word for it that there even is a path.”

We walked for maybe an hour and a half when the path widened and the mist seemed to clear a bit. White, desiccated trees peeked through the fog.

I paused to look around. The trees seemed to form a ring around the path.

“I think we’re in some sort of large circular area.”

Quinn swallowed audibly.

“Do you feel that?”

A mild vibration ran through the ground.

“Yeah, I feel it.” I had a bad feeling about this. “Come on, let’s move.” I tugged him along behind, moving as quick as I dared across the slippery stones. The ground started shaking harder and the trees quaked.

“Storm and thunder, what is going on?” Quinn banged into my back, urged me to go faster. I couldn’t agree more.

The ground erupted around us, soil and rock flung in all directions. I pulled Quinn in front, and did my best to shelter us as I shoved him forward.

“Move!” We made tracks toward the other side of the circle. One minute I had a hold of him, the next he was gone. “Quinn!”

He shouted in terror somewhere over to my left. Where was he? I spun toward where I heard his voice.

“I’m coming, Quinn.” I rushed forward, my hands out in front. I grabbed a bony shoulder and yanked him to me.

Only it wasn’t Quinn.

A vacant eyed, decaying mass of flesh, grinned before trying to take a bite out of my hide. It had most probably been human before, but certainly wasn’t now. My claws extended from my fingers and with a single swipe I knocked its head from its body. It collapsed in a heap.

That was damn effective. Behead them. Got it.

I spun in a circle, listening. Shuffling noises from every side. How many? Had they grabbed Quinn?

A glimmer of light sprung from the darkness. Sir Blaive’s Grave Dust. I hurried in that direction, claws taking down two more of the pitiful undead creatures. I almost barreled into Quinn when a pinch of dust shot from his hands and nearly blinded me.

A zombie caught fire behind me and fell over in a burning heap.

I grabbed Quinn’s arm, but he couldn’t see me and began to struggle.

“It’s me,” I hissed, pulling him to me. His eyes were huge and his cheeks ashen.

“There are a lot of them, Twig.”

“I know. Don’t fall apart on me now, Quinn. I need you focused, okay?” Even as I said this, I spun and beheaded another zombie, the stench of rot and mildew overpowering. Placing my back to his, I held up my hands, both tipped in deadly claws now. “We can do this together.”

I felt him nod against my back. He threw more grave dust at a pack of zombies. A rather small blaze for what it should be. I watched it strike another zombie before turning back and taking two down with my claws. Seemed more efficient than the dust. I roared as three more shuffled in front of me, and one from the side. Slashing, I quickly eliminated them.

Another flare, then another, then another. Each time the powder’s effect weakened until it was barely a trickle.

“Twig, I’m out!” Quinn’s voice shook and I lunged at a zombie that in another second would have put its hands on him. My dragon roared in my head and only when the sound echoed off the trees did I realize its fury hadn’t remained internal. I forced my claws back on one hand so I could retrieve my own pouch of grave dust, then handed it to Quinn.

Fire sprung from the dust, but again was quickly doused. Must be the water in the air; the mist was keeping the powder from working to its full potential. For each zombie Quinn incinerated, for each two zombies I beheaded, ten more seemed to take their place. With so many zombies up in flames, I could get a better view of our surroundings.