Evain sees the serpentine bulk ahead as the first wave of corrosive magic hits. It washes off of him like water. Another spell flashes in Leth’s hair, and the demonic miasma doesn’t slow him at all.
The vaidkos is huge, twelve feet at the shoulders, and its sinuous body winds through the trees. Its massive, wedge-shaped head lacks eyes, instead lined with three rows of flaring nostrils and an unholy number of needle-like teeth. The creature is too big for this stretch of forest, and on every side of it, the trees bear splintered scars of its passing.
Leth looks tiny against the vaidkos’s bulk, but he flings himself forward like the monster is just another training dummy. Evain flings himself forward as well, sparks and shadows streaming in his wake.
The eyeless head swings towards Leth first. Evain takes advantage of its distraction to fling out his left hand. Five long shadow-knives manifest in motion, piercing towards the vaidkos’s hindquarters.
“Over here,” Evain calls out, and meets the swinging head with his sword. Steel and fang screech together. Impact rings through Evain’s shoulder as he dances away.
Green-black blood steams away from deep wounds in the beast’s chest and shoulders. Souvenirs of Leth’s artistry.
The blur in the corner of his vision is Leth too, circling around. His witchcraft amplifies his speed past human ability. Without verbal coordination, Evain spins towards the vaidkos again. Red light flares around his hands. The eyeless vaidkos can’t see the light, but the power and heat draw its attention. Evain laughs aloud and dodges back just enough. Needle fangs snap scant inches from the hem of his coat, and acidic saliva burns into the frosty dirt. The vaidkos rears back, then lunges—
And Leth’s sword flashes silver, slicing upward under its throat.
Blood sizzles, and the gurgling, serpentine body spasms. Leth stumbles backwards, and Evain grabs him by the shoulder. They duck behind a tree just before a thick curve of flesh slams into the other side of the trunk. Soft needles shower onto them from the shaking branches above. Wood crunches and splinters from the dying demon’s convulsions.
Then there’s silence. No sound but the rustling trees, and no movement but Leth’s breath frosting the air between them. Two hearts drumming in tandem. Adrenaline surges through Evain, not Leth’s desire but his own.
Evain is on the cusp of reaching out when Leth’s gaze lowers, and he ducks away. Evain sighs and steps out too. Now’s not the time. The rift still pulls at him.
Leth stoops to pull his sword from the smoking ashes, all that remains of the vaidkos’s corpse. “I don’t hear the others,” he says, moving forward with his sword in hand. The direction of the rift is clear from this distance, even for humans.
“They’ve probably beaten us to it,” Evain says with a sigh, just as a burst of power radiates from in front of them. Evain throws up a shield on instinct, red sparks weaving through the air in front of them—
But the foreign power dissipates harmlessly, with no more impact than the wind fluttering through their hair. A whoop of laughter echoes through the frosty landscape: Marta’s high voice, with a lower echo from Haldis.
Leth sheathes his sword. “I guess your array worked.”
Grinning, Evain lowers his hand and releases the shield. “I guess it did.”
***
The seven of them make camp for the night with a rocky hillside to their east and a thick copse of trees to their west, blocking off most of the wind. The sky is still clear of snow, but the temperature drops when the sun sets. Haldis walks the protective wards around the camp, and Evain makes sure he’s well within the boundary before her spell sets.
She’s warding against demons, among other things, but it’s easy enough to escape detection when he’s already within the spell.
Darren hunted a few rabbits while the party was separated, and Evain takes charge of cooking them while the others set up camp and tend the horses. The savory scent draws everyone together again by the time dinner is ready. They sit on rocks and empty tent covers, and Haldis and Marta cuddle on Marta’s picnic blanket.
Evain is pleased when Leth sits next to him, leaning against the same hulking boulder. Sure, there’s an entire two feet of space between them, but a year ago, Leth would have sat across the fire, as far away as possible.
Of course, a year ago, Evain wouldn’t have cared where Leth sat.
“Drink, anyone?” Tally asks from across the low fire. He twists in his seat and produces a leather-wrapped bottle and a stack of small wooden cups from one of the packs. “It’s strong, mind you.”
“He’s not joking.” Darren takes the bottle next. “He brews it himself.” He pours some directly into his own flask, then passes it onto Bricks, who takes a cup.
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Haldis starts, but sighs and pours a cup when Marta pouts.
“I deserve a drink,” Marta says earnestly. “I deserve at least five, but I’ll stop at one. Probably.”
Even in the unsteady firelight, Evain can read the exasperation on Haldis’s face. She holds onto the bottle for a long moment before pouring a cup for herself as well.
There are two cups left when the bottle reaches Evain. He casually hides one in the shadows next to him, while asking, “Who’s your contract with, Tally?”
Tally takes a sip, his slight smile unchanging. His hood is thrown back around his shoulders, but his expression still feels hidden. “That’s a delicate question around these parts. What if it’s some fell demon?”
“I’d be in no position to judge if you were demon-bound.” Evain pours until the little wooden cup is nearly full. The liquid is thick, clear in the firelight, and smells like spice and vanilla. “But I know what divinity feels like.”
