A Murder of Crows - Chapter 15

I look sternly at the fey creature, its face gleaming with demonic glee at the pain caused to Amelia. My voice commanding, I speak.
"Cuthien. Stop that now."
The wild faced being turns to me with a grin, the shadows holding fast to Amelia. With a twinkling giggle, it responds.
"Math, dear Math..... so long you have been gone... they miss you, you know... your parents... they miss you so dearly.... you have been such a naughty, naughty child. You should be punished!"
The shadows leap up all around me, reaching to grab at me and drag me into the darkness.... and then stop. A warm, soft glow begins to be emitted from my body, and a serene look appears on my face.
"You cannot hurt us, Cuthien. You know that... We know that... Stop this foolishness, please?"
The shadows pull back slightly from me, and they release Amelia from their cold grip. Grinning ferally, Cuthien regards Math.
"Such wonderful playmates you'll be, Math... such wonderful playmates..."
May Fate grant us luck... I think. Tonight we take the first step to saving a world...

Amelia stepped clear of the clinging shadows. She was still off balance in the unfamiliar suroundings, and the fey spirit had a clear advantage because of it. But she was tired of being toyed with.
"Playmates...wouldn't you rather be free? Even one such as you must grow weary of shadows," she countered.

I can hear his voice in my mind, and we speak as one in reply to Amelia's question.
"How can one grow weary of oneself, child?"
I can feel him toying with me, as if I was a marionette. We he talks, I talk. When he smiles, I smile. ANd when he screams, my lungs almost burst from the force.
"YOU KNOW NOTHING OF ME, CHILD!"
I feel my arm move against my will, mimicking his own moves upstairs. Amelia gets hit on the torso, and crashes into a wooden bench. My arm hits a crate of wine bottle and almost gets broken.
"This is grown-up talk, child... Now be a good girl and listen..."
Lord, this hurts... Ow, my arm... C'mon, Math! Do something!

The shadowy being laughs at Amelia. I seem to hold back, uncertain, doubting. Cuthien just glances at me before sneering at Amelia.
"How can one grow weary of oneself, child?"
His voice seems oddly echoed, lying deeper within this twisted nightmare than before. As if waking from a dream within a dream, this realm grows harsher, more intense. The shadows deepen, and the light fades. The room itself seems to shrink.. or perhaps Cuthien just moved acrossed it without being seen. With the darkness nearly impenetrable, Cuthien screams at Amelia.
"YOU KNOW NOTHING OF ME, CHILD!"
And still, I hang back. My face is a mix of emotion. Fear, hate, pain, and sadness all play across my eyes as I look at Cuthien. Caught between feelings of friendship, and 2000 years of suffering, I hesitate. That is all the monster of lies and shadows needs.
He reaches out, swinging at Amelia, connecting across her chest, sending her flying with power that his frame should not possess into a bench. Laughing gleefully, he continues towards her.
"This is grown-up talk, child... Now be a good girl, and listen... That weakling Math won't do a thing to save you... You're lost, child... lost forever... Just like Marias... You are LOST!"
The fae creature tilts its head back and cackles with glee, only to be cut short.
Sneaking up while the creature was busy, I launch myself at his back with a cry of rage. As luck, or Fate, would have it, I collide hard with Cuthien, placing my long dagger in front of him. My momentum knocks us both forward, onto the ground. With a scream of inhuman pain, Cuthien struggles to escape my grasp. As we roll, two things become apparent. First, my dagger is buried to the hilt in Cuthien's stomach... the second is that red blood is seeping from the area where my chest and Cuthien's back meet.
Teeth clenched, I shout to the dazed Amelia.
"The knife! Pull it out of the ground! Now, lass! Hurry!"

Pain lanced through Amelia's chest and shoulder as she lay still where she had fallen. The ache of what must have been several cracked ribs made moving a chore. At Math's cry, she forced herself to her knees, blinking back the darkness that clouded the edges of her vision.
The knife. Yes.
Amelia crawled to where the blade protruded from the floor. She grasped the hilt and pulled. The knife didn't move. Carefully, fighting to concentrate, she searched inward, seeking some of the power she'd used earlier and knew was still inside of her. It answered--easier than before--and Amelia jerked the blade free with a cry. She turned to face Math and Cuthien, sprawled and bloodied not far from her.
"I know...more...than you think," she said raggedly. "Not a child...anymore."

From the shadows around the fae, a dark form shot forward.
A rat, as large as a dane, spurted towards Cuthien, who had rosen from the ground, Math still on the floor.
With a blinding speed it burried it's teeth in the creature's fore arm.
Cuthien roared in sudden pain and confusion, and, ignoring Amelia for the moment, swung its arm, flinging the rat from it's body, crashing it into the altar.

The distant cries only regester faintly to Trent. He tilts his head for a moment, a wash of emotions cross his face, then the peace returns and he steps forward toward the noise.

"GOD!... The pain..."
I gaze at my forearm, and small rivulets of crimson run down towards my wrist.
"That's it... That's it! Kill the bastard, Math!" Perhaps there's hope, after all.
Perhaps not.
Like the hammer of an angry god, the resonance threatens to burst my head into a million pieces.
And this time, I can count it.
"One... Two... Three... Four... Five... Six... Six in the morning!"
The last House of the Night has been entered. The shadows will get deeper, stronger, deadlier.
Hold fast, friends. This will be ugly now...

"You can't resist me, Math! You are a part of me, like that pirate-boy I toy with!"
I have never hated my own voice so much. The pain through my chest is deep, like a heart failure. I can feel the pain running through my left arm, and my head feels dizzy. But I also feel something else.
I feel Math.
"Math, do you hear me? Your blood is mixing with Cuthien's, and I'm bonded to the bastard! I am bonded to you both!!"
I take a step towards the warding circle that holds me in place, half-expecting the invisible wall to pull me back.
But it is gone. I am free.
And that faerie insulted the wrong pirate...
I run out through the cellar door, up the flight of stairs that leads to the Manor's kitchen. As I cross the entry hall, I feel something... odd. The sun is not yet up, but there's a slightly red tint to the windows. What could possibl--
"It's here! It's taken notice of us! Oh, Lord, Math! Finish that bastard before It claims us all!"
I run towards the stairs in the library, leaving behind a hall that is getting redder by the minute, like a mist of blood and death from the Primordial Waters.
Death is here.

I grunt as the large rodent emerges into the realm of nightmare, and attacks Cuthien.
So, I think, blinking through the pain, the Guardian lives up to his name. Crossing over to save her... little does he know what he was born to do...
Cuthien screams, struggling. I feel the blade through his body and into my own dig, cutting away at my flesh. Gritting my teeth I keep my hold strong.
"His heart, Amelia! Stab him in the heart!"
The room itself spins about me. I struggle against the darkness nipping at my consciousness as strongly as Cuthien struggles against me.
Hurry, Amelia... hurry.

Amelia moved toward the struggling pair in the wake of the distraction William had given her...close enough now to see the blood covering both, the dull light flickering in Math's eyes, and the fae creature's fevered strength.
She took a painful breath and purposely darted into Cuthien's reach. He made a grab for her, and she instinctively thrust the knife forward...aiming straight for the creature's heart.

WIth a sound akin to shattering glass, the knife stabs home into Cuthien's chest. His face locks into a look of surprise and horror as a ripple of force seems to emerge from the stabbing point, knocking Amelia and the Weasel away.
With one last scream of "NOOOOOOOO!!", Cuthien shatters like a pane of glass. With him shatters the spell binding us to the nightmarish realm, and like a harsh awakening, we suddenly return to reality.
I look down, seeing the dagger in my own flesh. Closing my eyes, I pull, feeling the thin blade slide out of my flesh.
Grunting from the pain, I roll to my side, pulling into a fetal position as the darkness swirls up to claim me.
As unconsciousness takes me, I see Amelia, unharmed, lying within a few feet of the dazed and human Weasel.
I cough once, and go limp.