Page 107 of Vervain

A tightening sensation clenches my throat as I recall the dream of my friends floating in tanks, and Cole on a silver table with this…black worm inside of him.

Taking a deep breath, not wanting to dwell on such things now, we make our way into the woods instead of the main road. “Will they still be in Mire?”

“If not, it’s a lead. I can track down my brother’s scent easily.” His fingers slip into the gaps between mine. “Once we find Reyes, we will find your brother.”

Olivia wrinkles her nose. “Others like us won’t come close to you, Lady Consort. Lord Serun’s scent is of decay. All we will have to worry about are the slayers.”

I pinch the fabric of my tunic and sniff. I smell nothing.

Serun chuckles darkly.

Quiet after that, Olivia walks behind, with Serun in the lead and me in the middle. My fingers twitch towards my weapon because I can’t use my vegodian powers to my fullest potential. Around nightwalkers that I can turn to ash, I’d rather use the sword until I can.

Through a break in the tall oak and maple trees, hidden in the shadows on the rough forest path, my ears twitch at the sound of trickling water. It’s not the sound of the beach but more subtle, reminding me of the river in Cherry Bloom.

We make our way up a slope, and when we reach the clearing, moonlight glistening and tall grass swaying back and forth, I look down the path. The highway isn’t far, and nearby is another fuel station connected to a cafe. Near that is where the sound of water is coming from.

A stream flows down, away from the direction we are planning to travel. My eyes narrow slightly at creatures with yellow neon eyes and black pupils, leaning into the water to drink.

So, the echoes must be more human than nightwalker if they need to drink water.

Serun raises his hand, and the shadows swirling there turn to sand when he clenches his fist. Down by the water, the echoes arch their backs, screaming, before collapsing and their bodies melt into ash.

“Why do you call them echoes?” I ask, turning away from the river and making my way to Serun’s side. I follow him down the slope, and we plunge back into the darkened woods. “I know they come from Hellsgate, and you speculate that place is from Mother, but what are they? They can’t just be creatures from fables.”

“I’ve wondered too,” Olivia says. “When I was human, they were a fable told to children to keep them from staying out after dark. Sometimes, telling them there were nightwalkers out there wasn’t enough. Humans with pointed ears and red eyes didn’t scare them as much as those grotesque creatures.”

“They come with the red moon,” he answers, and again his tone is dismissive. “Hellsgate opens, and they do all they can to flee. Without the red moon, they are weaker and supposed to die off, but it seems something has changed that I wasn’t made aware of since the last red moon.”

“And we never had the red moon when Mother was still here, did we?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t particularly understand why it appeared.”

“Most rule it under Mother’s rage.”

“But she was healing the moon when I saw her…”

A cool breeze captures me, sending a shiver up my goose-prickled arms at the thought of Mother cradling the moon. Delicate fingers mended the red, as if fixing an anomaly—a mistake that wasn’t supposed to happen.

“You saw Mother?” Olivia asks, her pace quicker until she’s beside me. “What did she look like? Was she happy?”

Looking back through my memories, I grimace at the way she looked. “Defeated,” I say with a slight nod. “Tired, as well. And if she’s been doing this every time the red moon appears, I could imagine it would be tiring.”

I land down the slope, the grass thinning out, and my boots sinking into the earthy, soft mulch. Serun moves further ahead, a blanket of shadows thickening around us, as if shielding us from the outside world. The only part exposed is the sliver of light bleeding down like rays of sunshine. They shimmer against patches, exposing nocturnal creatures. A fox scurries by, too scared to get any closer, and dives into a hollow hole that protrudes out of the hill we came down from.

Quickening my pace, I walk beside Serun. My hand goes to my stomach, tightening the muscles to stifle the hunger. “Is there something wrong, nightwalker?”

His eyes narrow, the only part that shows emotions aside from the shadows that swarm—a hive of black. They tell stories, especially in this form, whenever everything about him is a covet of shadow.

“No one has seen Mother since she vanished, but you watched her tending to the red moon while others could not. I’ve stared at that moon a fair few times and not once have I seen Mother. Not even the other night.” His hand moves to me, flicking a piece of white hair over my shoulder before his arm falls. “So, how can you?”

“Vegodian?”

“Did your brother see it, then?”

Through the fog of torment, sinking in the pool of blood that soaked the granite he lay on, I recall the moment we left Darkovish Feeding Ground. I looked to the sky, yearning for the stars, when I noticed the moon and Mother.