The Flame in the Mist (15 page)

Jemma felt nauseous. A hand …? She fingered the piece of Marsh’s dress in her pocket, grief searing through her.
Stop it!
she said to herself, biting back tears.
Maybe it’s not Marsh’s hand. Even if it is, that doesn’t mean she’s dead
. She breathed deeply to calm herself.

“Ugh!” The air smelled foul, and she hastily pushed herself up to sit. Her hands were resting on thick, matted fur. A mountain cow lay beneath her, slit from belly to throat, innards spilling onto the ground. The cow was still warm; freshly dead—so that couldn’t be where the stench was coming from. As her eyesight adjusted, Jemma saw that the cow wasn’t the only unfortunate creature to have fallen into the cave; the ground was strewn with carcasses. Hanks of rotting hide lay all around, crawling with maggots. Beneath them was a carpet of bones, some intact, others splintered as if they’d been subjected to furious attack.

Dread seethed through her. “Oh, no,” she whispered, suppressing the urge to throw up. “Maybe those thugs were right, and this really
is
the Aukron’s lair.…”

She had always scoffed at stories of the Aukron, laughing off Nox’s gory enactments of its ferocity, which had delighted her and the twins when they were little. She’d even doubted its existence, though Feo insisted it was real.

“Oh, yes, Jemma,”
he’d said.
“It roams the forest at night. Cunning it is, and loves to make its prey as afraid as possible. It won’t eat whole humans, though—just their guts. They’re its favorite snack!”

“And how could anybody possibly know that, silly?”
she’d
always retorted, laughing.
“If it ate your guts, you’d be dead, and it would be a bit difficult to tell anyone, wouldn’t it?”

But now, it was obvious: the Aukron was the Agromonds’ creation, its tastes determined by them, so of course Feo would know. The intestines that coiled at her feet and oozed blood onto her boots were nothing to laugh at.

Her own stomach tightened. “We’ve got to get out of here, Rattusses,” she said, standing up. “Fast.”

Jemma looked up the shaft. It was about twice her height, and just wide enough for the cow to have fallen through. Jutting across the bottom of it was a large, pointed rock—no doubt the one that had grazed her, and caused the cow’s grisly death. If she could grab hold of it, perhaps she could hoist herself up. She stepped onto the cow’s flank and bounced on it to see if she could spring high enough, but her hand batted thin air. Next, she took off her cloak, and managed to hook it around the rock, but when she pulled on it, she heard its fragile velvet rip.

“Think, Jemma, think!” Frantically, she looked around the cave. From about halfway up its earthen walls, what appeared to be branches were jutting out in every direction—tree roots, she realized: a mass of them, tangled across the roof of the cave. That might be a way to climb to the shaft. But even the lowest one was several feet out of reach. She looked around again. The book. Bones. Hide. Rotten flesh. Roots. Bones. Roots. Bones. The words beat through her head in time with her thumping heart, churning up an idea. She found a long femur, splintered at one end, rounded at the other. Using a skull as a hammer, she drove its sharp end into the wall at knee height, leaving about a foot of its rounded
end sticking out. She stood on it and stretched her arm up. The roots were still out of reach, so she hammered a second femur into the wall. It wouldn’t hold. She tried in several other places, but all around the cave, the earth crumbled above waist level.

“Mord take it!” Jemma hurled the bone to the ground. It somersaulted, then embedded itself between coils of intestine, a taunting reminder of the Aukron’s favorite delicacy. Panic rising, she looked around again. Skulls. Hide. Cow guts. Cow guts … 
Strong as wire
, Digby used to say about them. Once, he’d made a skipping rope for her out of them. Skipping rope …

Rope! Jemma eyed the shaft, estimating the distance of the jutting rock. Then, taking her knife from her boot top, she sliced off a length of the cow’s innards, amazed by how much fit into one animal. Folding the coil in two, she threw the looped end up toward the rock. It flopped down just short of its mark. Again she tried, and failed.

“Patience, Jemma, patience,” she said. “See it happening.” She took a deep breath and tried a third time. The loop hooked over the rock, leaving two lengths of intestines dangling down. But they were slippery, and impossible to hold on to. She picked up the book, held it to the glistening tubes, and concentrated.
Dry … Dry …
Steam exuded from them, and within moments, their surface was tacky: perfect to grip.

“Come on, Rattusses,” she said, tucking the knife back into her boot

Noodle and Pie clambered up to her shoulders, ears flat against their heads. Jemma stuffed the book into one pocket, shoving her stone inside the front of her dress. She was about
to start her climb when she spotted something brown sticking out from beneath the cow’s horns.

A boot.

She picked it up, instantly recognizing its scuffs and tattered laces: it was one of Marsh’s. “Oh, no.…” She sank to her knees. The thought of Marsh meeting her end down here, with the goats and cattle …

Noodle nuzzled her face.
Bones. Wrong size. Look around
.

Jemma looked. “You’re right. They’re all too big or too small. A shoe doesn’t prove anything.” She dropped it, and with heavy determination stood, then hauled herself up the sticky gut-crafted rope onto the rock. Below her, Marsh’s shoe lay among the bones. “It doesn’t prove anything,” she said again, wiping her hands on her dress. “Nor does the hand.” But her heart weighed like lead in her stomach as she wedged her back into one side of the shaft and her heels into the other, and began shuffling herself upward.

From up on the crag, the twelve tolls of midnight started booming into the night. Two sets of claws dug deeper into her shoulders as the dim circle of light at the top got closer. And closer. Finally, on the eleventh toll, Jemma heaved herself out and lay facedown on the damp grass, taking deep sobs of breath as Noodle and Pie panted into her neck.

Clang!

The last strike of midnight shuddered through her. Wednesday. Four days left to escape the forest and find her parents in time to be Initiated by them. Four days … but what would become of her and of her Powers if she failed?
I can’t let that happen
, she thought.
I have to succeed. I have to
. And at least she’d be safer now: with the hand that the thugs
had taken as proof of her death, the Agromonds would surely call off the search.

Jemma pushed herself to her feet. Then she felt it: the low growl reverberating through her, the hot gust of breath at her back. Whatever was there, she could sense, was enormous. Without so much as a glance behind her, she grabbed the rats and ran.

Branches crashed behind her, low grunts belching out in time with her pursuer’s pounding feet. Jemma felt as though she was flying down the crag, her feet barely touching ground, her cloak trailing in her wake. The forest seemed to open before her like a clear tunnel, showing her the way as she hurtled over rocks and ferns, until she came to the middle of a clearing.

The racket behind her stopped. Jemma stopped too. Trees shivered. The air was still, as if holding its breath. She stepped forward. To her right, a branch cracked. She halted, scalp tingling. Silence. Another step, another crack, this one closer, coming from behind; then another, to her left. Down the slope, a shadow hulked between the trees. Dropping Noodle and Pie into her free pocket, she changed direction. The shadow was there, ahead of her. Each way she turned, it anticipated her, hemming her in.

She was trapped.

A low rumble vibrated from the earth and up through Jemma’s bones. It seemed to come from all directions at once. She spun around, terrified, as a huge black form leapt in front of her. Sinewy and muscular, its hind knees bent forward like
a human’s. Its forelegs were long and triple-jointed, its fingers tapering into thick, curled talons. Raw flesh hung from its belly. Hatred blazed from its narrow, orange eyes.

The Aukron. And here, in the clearing, Jemma was at its mercy.

It circled around her, once, twice, its gaze fixed on her. Then it reared onto its hind legs and stomped toward her, talons raised to strike. She turned and ran for the trees, but a swipe to her back slammed her to the ground. Hot breath blasted her as she scrambled to her feet; her hair sizzled and singed. A gigantic hand caught her left leg, and she was dragged along the forest floor, rocks and twigs slashing into her skin. Her cloak was torn from her, and Pie and the book were jolted from her pockets. Noodle squealed, and she felt his claws dig into her hip as the Aukron hoisted her upside down into the air. It held her level with its giant jaws, then opened its mouth and flipped its black tongue from side to side, drawing her closer, its fangs ready to impale her with one fatal chomp. A scream froze in her throat. The world beyond the forest flashed through her head. She would never see it now. Never know what life was like beyond the Mist—

Noodle let out a rat screech of terror. Like a mother fox protecting its kits, Jemma felt ferocity surge through her and forgot all else.

“Leave him alone, you Agromond monstrosity!” She snatched the knife from her boot top and struck out, slicing the Aukron’s top lip. Bile-green liquid spurted out, and the monster drew its free hand to the wound, snarling with pain. But still its huge leathery fist was clamped around her, its talons digging into her skin. She jabbed and slashed at the
gnarled fingers, which only clamped tighter until she could barely breathe. Its mouth widened in what looked like a cruel smirk, full of the delight of an imminent meal.

The Light Game, Jem!
Marsh’s voice wove into her head.
Remember …

Jemma imagined gold Light filling her, surrounding her, expanding outward. The Aukron hesitated, its eyes narrowing. She intensified the Light, vaguely aware of Noodle clawing his way to her neck. He tugged her Stone from inside her dress, and she grasped it with her free hand and thrust it toward the Aukron’s face.

Bright aqua light saturated its eyes. For a split second, they turned icy white, and she felt the purest evil looking at her. Then, with a roar, its grip released and she plummeted, crumpling to the ground. Noodle landed on top of her and dashed to Pie. Jemma stood and grabbed her Stone, then held it out in front of her as she limped toward the beast. It lumbered backward, howling, clamping its fingers over its eyes. She kept advancing, Stone in hand, the Aukron cowering from its light. Near the edge of the clearing, it sank onto its haunches and groaned. She turned and ran.

But the Aukron was not done with her yet. It struck out and slammed her facedown on top of the book, knocking the knife from her hand. Four massive limbs surrounded her. Its hot diaphragm pressed forcefully into her back, squeezing the air from her. Its roar rattled through her; its huge heart hammered against her back. The book pressed painfully into her hip; her Stone was crushing her sternum. She thought she would break. From beyond the beast’s belly, she could hear Noodle’s and Pie’s frantic squeals. Desperate, she reached for
the knife, and felt a tiny muzzle nudging its handle into her hand. But the Aukron had her arm pinned, and she couldn’t move a muscle.

A name sprang into her head, and she called out to it.

“Majem! Help me, please! I don’t want to die.…”

The earth beneath her shivered, and she felt as though she was melting into it. Then the book and her Stone seemed to dissolve and float up through her, as if the molecules of her body were dissolving too, flooding her with heat. She heard a hissing sound where her back met the Aukron’s stomach. With a loud bellow, the Aukron recoiled, its flesh burning.

Jemma and her cloak were unscathed.

Her focus pulled together. Every fiber in her body fired into action. She flipped over and stabbed the Aukron’s thick hide. The beast pulled back, the knife’s hilt sticking from its gut. Jemma grabbed the weapon with both hands and sliced upward. Black flesh ripped open, and there, beating right in front of her and webbed with dark veins, was its monstrous heart. She glimpsed her face reflected in its glistening surface, hair flame-red, teeth bared, aqua eyes fired with determination. With one final thrust, she punctured the beating balloon.

Jemma scrambled clear as the Aukron fell to its side, wheezing and groaning. Green liquid spurted from the gash, searing the grass and spattering her hands. The spurts slowed, and lessened, and slowed more, until finally, the Aukron lay still.

“Oh, my—oh, my—” Jemma dropped the knife. Her hands stung from the creature’s blood and she wiped them on the grass, looking around for the rats. They were huddled
next to her cloak several feet away, shaking, but unharmed. They teetered toward her. She picked them up and hugged them fiercely. The horror of having almost lost her life—and theirs—flooded through her, washing away the force that had infused her moments ago. She had killed the beast, saving herself, and Noodle and Pie. She should be triumphant, but all she felt was weak, and sick to her stomach.

Pie nudged Jemma’s hand.
Us, or it …

“I know, Pie, I know. But even so …” She buried her face in the rats’ fur. She craved rest, but couldn’t stop here—not with that Mord monster lying mere feet away. She would have to find shelter, just until she could catch her breath.

“Let’s move on, Rattusses.” Jemma picked up the knife and tucked it into her boot top, then crawled over to the crumpled cloak and wrapped it around her.

Crystals. We must get them
.

She groaned. Of course, she couldn’t go without the crystals. Stuffing the book back into her left pocket, she and the rats began the long trudge uphill toward the Aukron’s lair.

Noodle and Pie perched on Jemma’s shoulders as she stumbled down the hill again. One o’clock had passed, and now a second single toll marked the passing night. One-thirty. She had soon found the place where the hound had caught her. The remains of her shawl had gone—part of the men’s proof of her death, she supposed—but after a mercifully short search, she had found the crystals. She checked them again now, one in each pocket.