Page 94 of Dream Reaper

Reverberations shuddered through his body as he tumbled backward. Something hard dug into the small of his back, a hand pressing down on his arm. He blinked wildly to clear his vision as the music faded.

The heat cooled, as well, and the pounding in his head snapped off as if the giant drum had been ripped out of the enemy’s hand.

Voices erupted around him, high-pitched and frightened.

“Go! Everyone, go!” Finnr was yelling, close to Jerrid’s ear. “Come on, laddie, up on your feet.”

Hands caught him under the arms, and his stomach whirled unpleasantly as he was forced onto his feet before he was ready. The hands released him, and he pitched sideways into the wall of the gulley.

“Shades! What’s wrong with the lad? He’s as pale as a ghost.”

Warm hands curled around his forearms as he was dragged to his feet once again. Warm bodies pressed up against him, his arms held high to either side. They’d been stumbling forward for several minutes before his brain figured out what was happening.

He was being held aloft by two people, one under each of his arms. They held tightly to his wrists and practically carried him forward, his feet dragging uselessly against the dry leaves on the ground.

He forced his foot to move in an attempt to keep pace with them.

“That’s it, laddie,” Finnr grunted. “Move those legs now. Quick march before that thing comes back!”

“What—” Jerrid mumbled, but someone hushed him.

“Just move.” Ava rasped, pressed up tight against his side. “Don’t talk, just run.”

They stumbled onward, following the curve of the gully until it opened up onto the path that led back to camp.

What’s wrong with you? Dragon’s voice was a welcome intrusion.

Jerrid cracked his eyes open, almost expecting to see his scaly face in front of him. But only the dark trunks of trees and the occasional prick of light from the camp bonfire hung before him.

Something is wrong. I can feel it. You’re…you’re not yourself.

“No kidding,” he rasped back.

Clearly, this three-way bond Dragon and Ava had concocted was backfiring, and he was the one paying the price for their foolish experiment. Shifting wasn’t meant to be shared or transferred, that was for certain. If it were, people would have tried it long ago. It wasn’t like it had been that hard.

They’d done it accidentally.

Mostly, Dragon whispered. I might have helped things along a little bit…

“Thanks…for that…” Jerrid managed around labored breaths.

“Not now,” Finnr grunted, tightening his hold on Jerrid’s wrist as he heaved him a little higher onto his shoulders. “You’re blooming heavy. Just move those legs of yours, laddie.”

Jerrid didn’t have the energy to tell him that he’d been talking to himself.

They already think you’re crazy. You and Ava both. That’s probably my fault, too.

If he had the energy, Jerrid would have rolled his eyes, but all he could manage was to feel peeved. Hopefully, Dragon got the message. And he must have, because he went silent, withdrawing to a safe distance so that Jerrid could focus on moving his feet, one after the other.

It took an eternity to get back to the camp. The entire time, the back of Jerrid’s neck itched, as if the shadow were chasing behind them, about to strike at any minute.

But it never did.

Whatever Ava had done to it must have bought them some time. But how much time? Were they running now just to be forced to fight that thing again in fifteen minutes?

As they stumbled between the tents, Jerrid had to wonder what the point was. They couldn’t fight this thing, not by themselves. Ava didn’t have enough fire to defeat the shadow. Jerrid knew better than any of them how vast and ancient it was.

He’d gotten a taste of the thing, and it was worse than any of them had imagined. Whatever this thing was, wherever it had come from, it was beyond their ability to fight. Even with all of them together, it wouldn’t be enough.