Whyborne
“Run!” I shouted, and hauled Christine with me.
The pressure at the back of my mind shifted as the alarm of an intruder spread along telepathic waves. In the corner, the soldier’s orange eye blinked open, and it began to unfurl.
I ran blindly, not caring what I trod on or bumped into. Christine cried out, a sound of pain I had no choice but to ignore as I pulled her after me. We half ran, half staggered down the nearest ramp, the flame of my lantern flickering madly.
Fire—it was the only weapon I had against them. But if I flung the lantern, our only source of light would be gone. It would be a death sentence.
There might be some way of delaying the soldier, though. As soon as we hit the bottom of the ramp, I let go of Christine and turned back to face the way we’d come. The soldier raced after, fitting its malleable body into the narrow confines of the corridor.
I called on the wind, felt the world shift beneath me. Wind poured through whatever crevices or gaps allowed air into this chthonic place, and I shaped it with my will. The scars on my arm burned and pulled as I flung my hand out in front of me, and commanded the world to obey.
A gale howled through the underground passage, tearing at my hair and clothing. Its full force funneled into the smaller corridor, striking the jelly-like flesh of the umbra and shoving it back. Whatever property of its substance allowed it to fly rendered it vulnerable to a blast of wind, and it hurtled backward.
It wasn’t much, but at least it bought us a few breaths. Christine grabbed my arm for support—she couldn’t go far, not like this. If we could only put some distance between the soldier and us, perhaps I might trick the umbrae again by covering Christine’s presence with my own.
Unless our earlier speculation proved correct, and some intelligence guided them all. In which case, I could only hope it wouldn’t realize I accompanied the intruder the worker had sensed. If that happened, we were both surely dead.
Two new corridors opened off the room. I made for the one opposite the way we’d come, in some vague hope it would take us farther from the agitated nursery.
A great, burning eye appeared in the shadows of the corridor. A moment later, a soldier emerged. Followed by another.
We ducked into the only remaining corridor, Christine stumbling but still on her feet through determination alone. I risked a glance over my shoulder, saw the original soldier rejoin the two new ones, all of them rushing after us. Their stench washed over me, and my eyes watered. If I summoned the wind again, perhaps we still had a chance.
“No,” Christine moaned.
The corridor ended in a rock fall ahead of us. We were trapped, with no way out.
With nothing left but desperation, I turned and flung the lantern with all my might at the oncoming soldiers. It struck the one in the lead, flames and oil spreading over its skin. It let out a hellish shriek, its gelatinous flesh retracting sharply as it tried to flee the source of the pain. In the last light, I glimpsed the other two soldiers still coming toward us.
Then there was nothing but darkness. I flung my arms around Christine, and she around me. Together we sank to the floor and waited for the end.