ANGUS PICKED up a piece of rough stone that had fallen from the broken pillar. It was dull and gray, nothing like the stones he’d once chosen, which had been smooth and colorful. But he didn’t care what it looked like, only that he already had a connection to this place and these stones, and he intended to exploit it so he didn’t have to use as much energy to create a telestone.
He put the stone in his pocket. Every movement made his skull thump, though the head injury was just a bump and not worth healing. He’d have been worried if there were no lump and just the pain. Terrance had once told him that indicated internal swelling, which was most definitely not good.
Terrance hadn’t opened up the void for him to return, which was the whole point of having an anchor—someone on the other side to open the void for him. It worked when they did it at the pitz court in the park, and it should be working now… unless something had happened to Terrance.
He couldn’t worry about that until he got to the village, and he had to survive to get there.
When Saka sent demons out to look for him, they’d need to know where he’d been and which way he’d gone. He glanced at the fallen rocks and then the trees. It would be easier to move the rocks off the doorway site and then make an arrow out of them on the dirt. He made sure to put it in the clearing so winged demons could see it—not that he’d seen any signs of a search party yet.
They will come.
That kept him going when he squeezed his shirt for any lingering moisture from the rain. His head pounded from the injury and the thirst, and it was only going to get worse, but he couldn’t even attempt to draw water up until he’d walked away from here and was ready to rest for the night.
Shit. He was going to have to walk at night and rest through the day as he had before to avoid the heat and sun.
For a moment he considered staying where he was, but he quickly decided against it. If there was no search party because they thought he was dead, he needed to get himself to any village.
He glanced at his arrow and made sure it pointed toward the village. Then he set off.
There were rivers. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to find one. Yeah, and maybe he’d stumble across a three course dinner laid out just for him.
WHEN THE sun set, the insects came out. They filled his ears with their humming and nipped at his skin. He shuddered and hoped that he wouldn’t have to pick larvae out of his flesh… again. His mouth was dry, like he’d been eating sand, and the headache was blinding. Every heartbeat hurt. He’d given up singing as he used to do when walking in Demonside. There were no riverwyrms, so what did it matter?
He needed water and a rest before he could continue. The trail was still a narrow thing, and the canopy blocked the stars and cast everything in deep, velvety shadows. He hadn’t even made it to the next clearing, and there was no chance he would make it to the village anytime soon. It would take too many days. That thought alone made him want to sit and rest, but Saka had warned him about that urge. It was better to keep moving and keep to a routine.
A drop of water fell on his head, and something scuttled above him in the branches. Water was caught in the leaves. He’d feel better after a drink, and if there was water up there, it would be easier than drawing it out of the ground. He reached up and then bit back on his gasp of pain as he pulled himself up onto the branch. Starlight made the leaves gleam like emeralds, and rain had been captured in the cups formed by the leaves. Swarms of insects hovered around the tiny ponds, and other scaly things were catching them with long tongues.
Angus stayed still and watched. If he drank the water, it was going to be full of things—eggs and larvae and the bodies of adult insects that had fallen in. He peered into the pond closest to him. It was going to be crunchy water—more of a meal.
He needed to eat. His stomach was a hard knot of hunger, but even his stomach wasn’t sure about the wriggling life that was forming in the pond. When it rained in Demonside, life happened fast. Things woke and bred and laid eggs and died or hibernated to wait for the next rain.
The water would be undrinkable soon, putrid or dried up. He should make the most of it. Easy dinner.
He repeated the mantra, lowered his face into the cup, and drank. The insects got stuck in his teeth, and he had to chew or swallow the lumps. He gagged but kept going. He needed the water. When that cup was empty, he moved to another one and another until his thirst was quenched and his stomach full of wriggly squirmy things that tasted sour when he bit them.
It was only as he sat and watched the tongued things eat that he wondered if the insects were toxic. Too late now, and at least he wouldn’t die of thirst. Reluctantly he slithered out of the tree.
Knowing there was water above him that he could get anytime he was thirsty, he walked faster. He had to cover as much ground as he could before daylight brought the heat and sun.
HE DRANK several more cups of water during the night and ate the contents, convincing himself that food was food and hunting would be impossible without the magic that he didn’t want to use. He gagged each time but kept it down. When the sun finally arced higher, he was exhausted.
Whenever he stopped to drink, he used the stone in his pocket to carve an arrow and Saka’s mark into a tree. He’d handled the stone all night, ready to throw it if he needed to. A number of things had stalked him, nothing had come close. His singing voice wasn’t that appealing.
Or he was still too alive for them to risk attacking, which was a pleasant thought.
He stopped at a rocky outcropping that looked like it once would’ve held a stream. It was as good a place as any to rest—he was in the open where he could be seen, and if he curled up near the rock, he’d have a sliver of much-needed shade. It was that or get back under the canopy where he wouldn’t be seen if a winged demon flew overhead.
He lay down with the rock, his stomach gnawing at his insides. He hadn’t eaten enough. By nightfall the water in the leaves would be undrinkable. Another night alone. He squeezed his eyes shut as they burned. Tears would be a waste of water.
Pull it together, Donohue.
He sniffed a few times. He was a mage. He’d studied magic, but it wasn’t enough to save his ass out here. Where was everyone? Had he killed all the demons when the magic rushed through? Was Terrance in trouble for letting him remain? Why hadn’t he opened the void?
He swiped away a tear and forced his attention to the stone he’d been carrying. It knew him now, and he knew it. He’d committed every bump and sharp edge to memory so he could hold it in his mind perfectly, down to the fine crack. It wasn’t a perfect rock, but it was much like him—it hadn’t broken and it had once been part of something bigger.
He was part of Demonside while he was here, and magic was part of him. He was a mage, a warlock, a wizard, and a priest—a human in a place that craved his blood. He used the rock to make a tiny cut on his hand and fisted it as the blood smeared the surface, careful to only let the smallest trickle of magic out and then drew what was around him close. There wasn’t much to be grabbed, and he hoped it would be enough.
He poured all of his focus into the stone, determined to make it work, and pain exploded in the back of his skull.
IT WAS dark when he woke, and a blanket of insects lifted off him when he moved. His skin itched, and his eyes were almost swollen shut. The stone was warm in his palm and something nagged at the edges of his mind.
Saka.
His lower lip split as he murmured the word. While his body clamored for water, he ignored the physical and instead reached for his demon with a desperation that surged from deep within him. He let the magic flow until he felt Saka there, until Saka was as clear as if he were standing near him.
Saka smiled. I knew you could survive. Where are you?
Angus tried to call up a picture of the clearing and the dried-up spring. Not close enough to the village.
You are well?
Mostly. He’d been worse, though he wasn’t brave enough to look at the color of his eyes. I need to draw up water.
I’ll keep in contact. I’ll send people your way.
You know where I am?
Yes. Stay where you are. Saka broke the connection.
As relieved as Angus was, he was still alone and no closer to getting across the void.
THE MOON was high when he gave in to the thirst. He cut his hand again with the stone and placed his bloody palm on the spring. The water was there, not too deep. He could reach it with a little more magic, so he drew from all around him, including the trees. A whispered apology would never make up for what he was doing.
A few drops of water fell from the edge, and he licked them up and used his enjoyment to feed the magic. Any strong emotion could draw up magic, but desperation was not the best. Pleasure had always been the one he could work with, and this was no different. The drops became a trickle that cooled his skin as it splashed over his face. He laughed and wet his shirt and hair.
Not long now until he was found.
A snuffling sound made him turn hopefully, but it wasn’t a village demon.
On the edge of the clearing was something the size of a dog with a long ratlike tail. Its face was short and mostly mouth. It padded closer, following the path he’d taken into the clearing that morning. Angus moved up onto the rocks as quietly as he could. The creature swung its head in his direction and snuffled closer on its long spindly legs.
All he had was the rock and magic… and hope.
That was more than he’d had the day before.
The creature came closer and drank at the new stream.
I gave you that. You shouldn’t be hunting me.
It lifted its head to stare up at him.
“Shoo!”
It didn’t shoo.
He was not going to be eaten by a thing when help was on the way and he was sure he could hear voices and the beating of wings in the jungle—that or he was delirious from lack of food. Maybe he hadn’t spoken to Saka, and it was all in his mind. He could call him to be sure but that wouldn’t prove anything because he could be making it all up.
Shit.
The creature moved around the side and lurched up at him, a double row of teeth visible in its open mouth. Angus inched back, but there was nowhere for him to go. If the creature kept making that squealing noise, others would come. Maybe it was calling all its buddies to come—to the feast.
“Go away.” He kicked out as it lunged again. It was quicker than he was and grabbed his ankle.
Something went crunch, and Angus screamed.
The creature tore his sandal off and came back for more. Angus threw his only weapon—the telestone—and put magic behind the strike. He didn’t care if his eyes lost their color. If he was going to die, he’d rather do it on his terms and not as living dinner.
The telestone hit the creature between the eyes, and it stopped and crumpled.
Angus didn’t move. He wasn’t even sure that he’d be able to stand. His foot wasn’t in its usual position.
No sandal, no telestone—if help didn’t arrive soon, he would open a vein and be done with it.