William

Moving Nicholas wasn’t a grand idea. Neither was staying next to a reeking carcass with a living beast searching for them. As Charmaine and William relocated the Shade to a heavier grove of trees potentially safer than the last, Arden searched for a water source. He returned with four full buckets made of smooth stone, a conjuring of strange fae magic.

“The water must be clean. Start a fire and boil it as swiftly as possible,” William ordered.

Arden didn’t take kindly to his tone based on his snarl, though did as instructed. Sinking a hand into the water, he waited a moment, then the water bubbled.

“Ready.” He shoved the bucket into William’s hands.

Charmaine situated Nicholas on his side, not allowing the wound to touch the dirt. This wasn’t ideal, but William had to run water over the wound to hopefully remove the remnants of acid. He continued this until the skin stopped sizzling, then they situated Nicholas on his opposite side.

“What are you doing?” Arden bit when William retrieved the concealed pocket knife around his left ankle. He held the blade to Charmaine, who murmured an incantation. Fire crept over her fingers. She held the flame beneath the blade.

“I must cut the infested area out. This is typically done by specialists, and a scalpel would do better, but you fae heal quickly.” William took the blade from Charmaine’s hand and got to cutting.

“What is the purpose of healing mages who cannot heal?” Arden barked.

“I will not hear of that from a fae, creatures capable of almost purely destructive magic.”

A rare few, and William did mean rare, could heal among fae. From what he heard, some High Fae were capable of healing others and they were not keen on assisting anyone. After all, fae naturally healed. Far swifter than any other creature known. But the acid had done too much damage. Nicholas’ healing barely kept him alive, otherwise he’d have died the moment the acid hit him. A swift incantation would do nothing. William needed a powerful spell, herbs at the very least.

Arden muttered about worthless dregs under his breath, then fell silent. He should be more grateful. William did not intend to spare Nicholas. His wounds would have ended his life eventually. William would speed up that process because war is a product of individual choices. William found that, sometimes, the world is better without certain individuals. Nicholas was damn lucky Arden arrived. Lucky that Charmaine made an excellent point, too. Four heads were better than two out here, though he doubted the fae would be of much use. Their power was great, so long as they properly used it.

“How far do you suppose we are from camp?” Charmaine whispered. She gazed fearfully into the silent woods. Not even a breeze kept them company.

“Those beasts were swift. We could be miles away, though I don’t doubt that the Generals will send a search party,” William replied. Nicholas groaned and twitched. Charmaine held tighter and he cut faster. A crack of thunder warned of a coming storm, though out here the sky was always gray. He couldn’t predict from which direction it would come, only that it was near.

“Fae,” William snapped, glancing at Arden leaning against a nearby evergreen. “Make use of your magic and conjure us shelter.”

“I am not here to be bossed around by the likes of you,” he argued.

“Don’t be a dolt. We can’t move with all our injuries and I don’t think you want Nicholas waking, covered in mud and dirt because you wouldn’t set up shelter.”

William didn’t care if Arden liked taking orders or not. If he knew what was best for him, then he would listen. And he did. In a breath of wind and puffs of snow, an abundance of vines broke through the soil. They coiled slowly around one another, much slower than Nicholas’ conjuring. William pondered if that was a difference between Shades and others. Even among fae, Shades were known to have an abhorrent reserve of power. Fearful even to their kin.

By the time he finished removing the damaged skin, a small hut formed around them. The vines rose in a dome shape, entangling themselves and their leaves. Charmaine lit the enclosure with a single flame flickering on the ground. Arden entered when the rain started and William debated how to best bandage Nicholas.

None of them had provisions. Arden had the cleanest jacket, so he earned a handful of harsh remarks as he took the garment and tore it to shreds. Arden left afterwards, claiming to search for food. When William instructed the fae to seek herbs, too, Arden had the rage of a killer in his eyes. Though he did not take a life, merely snorted and stormed off.

“Now take a look at your shoulder. At least for my sake, please,” Charmaine demanded once Nicholas had been bandaged and carefully laid on his side.

She situated herself beside William, peeling back the uniform to reveal a gash from the front of his shoulder to the back. He stifled a yelp when Charmaine cleaned the wound. Now that the adrenaline had died off, the pain emerged. He wanted to rub the wound as if it’d rid him of the throbbing and tearing sensation in his skin. William pressed two fingers along the edge of the cut. The gash stitched itself mostly together by his words. Warmth seeped through him, humming around his aching shoulder.

“I did not want to say so earlier, but I am fairly certain Arden used me as bait,” Charmaine whispered. Her gaze shifted to the low opening of their hut, to the trunks of the forest beyond. “The monster that grabbed us followed yours. When you fell, ours dropped, too. I jumped into a pair of trees that softened the fall. I didn’t see Arden anywhere, not until the beast bit me.”

Charmaine glanced at her leg. The beast had caught her in its jaws. When they met earlier, five puncture wounds ran from her ankle to her knee. The serrated teeth left gashes, too. Not as bad as Nicholas’, which was a huge relief. William managed to seal the puncture wounds, though a deep bruise remained, stretching from ankle to knee.

“When I thought the beast would kill me, Arden appeared. He dealt a head injury that startled it enough to fly off. Then we heard another monster howling and Arden went running,” she finished.

“That isn’t surprising. They’re fae.” William rolled his sore and bruised shoulder. “We can’t trust them. We may rely on each other, but always expect the worst.”

When William said that, he hadn’t expected the worst to arrive so quickly, and in the form of a dozen spions rather than murderous fae. First came their familiar hissing sounds and the skittering of their long legs through the forest. Charmaine and William leapt out of the hut.

“Take this!” Charmaine thrust her revolver into his grasp. The fireballs forming in her palm would do more than well against spions.

William clutched the revolver, a quiver of excitement raced through his limbs. The spions vaulted from branches and scuffled over the forest floor. Their webs sprang forth, landing in the space he once stood. He pivoted, catching the attention of one six-eyed fiend. The spion reared on its hind legs, stinger oozing poison and saliva slick on its fangs. The pinchers clicked, a sound either to frighten predators or inform one they were on the menu.

Two more appeared at William’s side. In front of him, Charmaine roasted three with a wave of fire that terrified those at the back. They shrieked and climbed the evergreens, disappearing among their branches.

“Keep your eyes up!” William shouted and dashed for the spion in front of him. The spion sprang, as expected. They were lethal, not smart. And this would save on bullets.

Falling to his knees, he slid across the floor, blade up. The knife caught the spion’s underbelly, its weakest point, and sliced clean through. Green guts stained the forest floor. The spion fell, legs still twitching. William’s shoulder throbbed, but he didn’t slow down. He almost didn’t register the pain as his heart leapt and fingers twitched. He jumped back to avoid the webbing of the other two. However, the silk caught the tip of his boot. He wouldn’t get that free, so he yanked his foot out. A stinger jabbed the empty boot. 

With two on him, he pointed the revolver in the face of one and fired at the eyes. Their armor was unnaturally thick and sometimes required an entire clip to break through. Their eyes were the safest bet. One shot and the spion fell. But its friend was on him, a pincher nearly grabbed his wrist. William spun and fell to a knee where he jabbed the revolver between one leg and its abdomen where the armor didn’t meld together completely and fired.

Wailing, the spion stumbled back. Another took its place, stinger lurching forward. William felt the air graze by his cheek, mere millimeters from the poison. He sliced at the stinger. The blade didn’t cut through armor, but the spion skipped backwards from potential danger. Though Charmaine boiled a dozen, now scattered around the campsite, a dozen more sprang from the trees.

“Where are they coming from?” William used a bullet to down another creature.

“We must be near a nest.” Seizing a great breath, Charmaine cupped her hands to her mouth and released a tower of flames that cut through six more.

“Maybe that’s why the damn fae is taking so long. He got himself trapped in a web.” William would have laughed if he wasn’t busy gutting another spion. Their green organs stained the front of his uniform, releasing a gagging stench of rotten fish and undigested food.

As if summoned, Arden sprinted into the campsite. A murderous gale erupted from his form, lashing out at nearby spions and slicing them into ribbons. His wicked grin spoke of destruction. William barely ordered Charmaine to duck before Arden sent a sickle of wind forward. The blade sliced through almost all of them. Two sprinted towards the forest. Lurching to her feet, Charmaine summoned massive fire and swept the flames along. They hit their marks, cooking the spions instantaneously and they fell over dead.