Dawn had broke and fallen far behind them by the time Valerie agreed to stop. Weeks of daily training and a magical ability to improve himself had pushed his fitness far beyond anything he’d ever thought himself capable of, but he was firmly at the limit of his endurance. Valerie had set a gruelling pace, and she barely seemed to be out of breath, even though she’d thrown him over her shoulders and carried him multiple times in the night.

  Lucas shakily lowered himself to the grass, gulping in gasps of air like he’d been drowning. Sweat slicked his skin. He hadn’t felt this out of sorts since he’d run a marathon.

  Still, the relief that suffused him was indescribable. Neither of them had sighted the demon in pursuit for hours, and before long its chaotic aura had fallen away too. Whatever had happened back there, it had evidently stopped pursuing.

  Problem was, they’d also lost the townsfolk, too. With only two of them to worry about, they’d had a lot less to slow them down, and had thus grown a larger and larger lead on the people of Taunton. Now, looking back the way they came, he couldn’t even see their comrades.

  Guilt churned in his stomach. Focusing on his own safety so singularly didn’t sit right with him, even if he understood it from a rational standpoint. From Valerie’s perspective, his life was undoubtably more valuable than all the people of Taunton combined. Perhaps even all the people of Harwyckshire. He was sure many people would agree with her on that point, perhaps even some of the other survivors themselves, if they knew the truth of the matter.

  That didn’t particularly make him feel much better, but acknowledging that it wasn’t a question of selfishness and callousness that had pushed Valerie to all but abandon the others offset a little of his discomfort. She’d shown she cared. She would’ve kept running and not looked back from the first moment she’d grabbed him and leapt from the keep, otherwise.

  Lucas sighed as he waited for his body to stop its aching. Nearby, Valerie had settled into a crouch, watching the direction they’d come from with narrowed eyes. She’d brought them to a stop atop a small hill that gave them a decent view of the horizon in all directions, rolling grasslands stretching on as far as the eye could see. The day was overcast, angry grey clouds looming over the world ominously, which Lucas felt was appropriate. A happy, sunny day wouldn’t have suited the mood.

  Eventually, Valerie spoke, “We can rest here for a while, I think. The worst of the danger has passed.”

  Lucas slumped, too tired to muster a more enthusiastic response. “Any sign of other people?”

  “None that I can see from here,” Valerie said. “But they’ll be moving significantly slower than we were, with so many people.”

  “So many,” Lucas repeated. “Did you catch how many there were? How many survived and escaped?”

  “Twenty-seven,” Valerie said, sounding grim.

  Lucas nodded. “How many people were in town before the demon attacked?”

  “Around forty. This incident could have been much, much worse. Should have been much worse, one could argue.” She paused. “I feel the need to reiterate, to be sure it sinks in for you, that your gambit was incredibly effective. Again: I expected zero survivors last night, not counting ourselves.”

  “Yeah,” Lucas breathed. “After seeing what that demon was capable of, I can understand that. Without the firesheep…”

  He trailed off, throat tightening. It felt silly, to be so attached to creatures he’d met only a handful of days before and barely interacted with in any significant manner. But he felt responsible for them, in a way. He’d been the one to elevate them from mundane sheep into magical creatures. Created them, you could say. Sure, they wouldn’t have survived their first encounter with the beasts to begin with if not for him, but… Whatever. His feelings weren’t rational right now.

  He could forgive himself. Anyone would have their equilibrium thrown off by encountering a fucking demon for the first time. It’d be a harrowing experience for anyone.

  “Do you think any of the firesheep survived?”

  Valerie took long enough to answer that Lucas made the effort to raise his head and look at her. She was gazing back at him levelly, lips thinned. “I find it very unlikely,” she said. “But stranger things have happened. Your plant network is an unknown factor, and therefore difficult to predict. The presence of lunar mana also has to be taken into account. It has always been effective against chaos; the only reason it isn’t deployed more is due to its rarity.”

  Lucas considered that for a moment as he shifted himself into a more comfortable position, crossing his legs, resting his elbows on his knees, and lacing his fingers beneath his chin. “How big of a resource did I spend last night? You said that pendant took decades to fill up…”

  “It was a singularly unique magical item crafted by the greatest living practitioner of magic, yes,” Valerie said, a bit dryly. “I’m sure Lady Claire would have plenty of complaints about the manner in which it was used, but not the purpose. She would undoubtedly scold you for using it to power such a crude enchantment, and her scoldings are quite legendary in the Order. As long as the enchantment was made to fight a demon, though, she’d be sure to praise you for your ingenuity and quick-thinking afterwards.”

  “And what would she think of the firesheep?”

  “She would be considerably less sympathetic.” Valerie sighed. “As I told you before, though the threat they pose pales in comparison to demons and beasts, magical creatures can be dangerous things in their own right, and their creation is illegal for good reason. But she’s a utilitarian thinker, these days. The noble end of their story would make up for the reckless start, in her eyes.”

  Lucas nodded to himself. Even though a hundred years had passed, and the Great Wand was probably a vastly different person to the girl Lucas had grown up with, that was, funnily enough, pretty much exactly had he would’ve imagined her reacting to the situation. He could picture what she would’ve said to him. “Air-head” probably would’ve been thrown around a few times. She liked that one, when he pissed her off.

  “If we reckon we’ve escaped the demon,” Lucas said, “do we wait for the townsfolk?”

  Valerie rose to her feet, her gaze straying north once more—the direction they’d come from. “We should make for Dawnguard with all haste.”

  “But we know this countryside isn’t safe right now. Going all that way with just the two of us…”

  “I know.” Valerie looked up at the sky, a frown on her lips. “It’s approaching midday now. We’ll find shelter for the night and rest up until tomorrow morning. If they catch up to us by then, we’ll accompany them. If not, we’ll forge out alone. We can’t delay too long.”

  “That works for me,” Lucas said.

  Much to Lucas's dismay, it turned out that finding shelter involved more walking. His body protested every step, muscles aching, bones creaking. But he refused to be carried any more, at least. Resting on Valerie's shoulders when the situation was desperate was one thing, but the thought of being lugged around like a sack when the circumstances no longer called for it was too embarrassing to bear.

  Thankfully, it didn't take them long to find a copse of trees near the trail they had apparently been following. Lucas hadn't been able to pay attention in the dark, but Valerie informed him that they'd actually met one of the main roads south within an hour of leaving Taunton. Hence, they'd covered a lot more ground than they otherwise might have. According to her, Dawnguard was likely now only a littler over a week's travel away.

  Welcome news, and it also meant that the chances of meeting up with the others were much higher. Lucas had worried about that. He'd thought that everyone would be fleeing madly into the open countryside, and that encountering them again would be a matter of luck. He didn't feel particularly lucky these days, unfortunately.

  Lucas messed with the plants a little with his floramancy to create a more comfortable setting for them. With a roof made of tree branches over their heads, walls of misshaped tree trunks, and spongy moss beneath them to lie on, it wasn’t long before Lucas found himself drifting off to sleep. He fluttered in and out of consciousness for an indeterminate amount of time, feeling like his eyes were more often closed than open. Valerie was always in the same place when he came to wakefulness, sitting at the doorway to their impromptu shelter, ever vigilant, a silent sentinel.

  Her presence comforted him; he was certain that, no matter what happened, she’d give everything she had to keep him safe. She’d proven that. The sight of her become synonymous with security in hid mind, and he slept easier knowing she was there.

  It was raining by the time he woke properly, feeling refreshed. The Gift bestowed upon him by the summoning had worked its magic once more, and the aches and pains of earlier had mostly faded—not completely this time, since he’d overdone it more than ever before, but even so, the level of recovery was absurd.

  Lucas shuffled over to Valerie, peaking out of the doorway. The skies had opened up at some point. Though it wasn’t raining right at that moment, there was a telltale dampness in the air, and the foliage outside their shelter glistened with water. The clouds seemed lighter, too.

  “Do you need me to purge your mana again?” Lucas whispered. He didn’t know exactly how long it had been or how frequently she needed it done, but he remembered seeing her fiddle with her pendant multiple times per day, so figured it was fairly often. Worth asking, anyway.

  Valerie glanced back at him before turning her attention outside once more. “It wouldn’t hurt,” she said neutrally.

  Connecting his mana to hers was easier this time, and the act of purging her was easier too. The points of infection were fewer, and they spread slower. With no need for haste, Lucas sought to inject his mana at the right points directly, acting with surgical precision rather than just forcing his mana in at as many points as possible. With his eyes open, watching her, he was sure he saw some tension bleeding from her posture as his mana worked to purify hers. He liked to imagine it was akin to giving her soul a massage. It was hard to tell though, what with her armour and her cloak, the latter of which had turned so dark it was practically black, after all the times she’d used it.

  “This situation with your mana stops you from recharging the magic on your cloak yourself?” Lucas asked as the thought came to mind.

  Valerie nodded. “I struggle with most forms of magic.”

  “I’ve seen you do quite a lot of magic, though,” Lucas said.

  “All of it relying on the lunar mana Lady Claire gifted me.” Valerie tilted a look back at him. “Now I’ll be relying on you to remain effective. At least for a while.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” Lucas said. “I used up a lot of lunar mana, but I should be able to get more at night, right? And Jamie seems to be producing a bit on his own.”

  Indeed, though the monstercat was utterly conked out right now, Lucas could feel the power in the creature through their soul-deep bond. Jamie now had access to both pyromancy and lunamancy, but, while the former required the cat’s express consent to use, the latter needed no input. Lucas wondered why that was, and even Valerie didn’t seem to have an answer when he asked.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “The truth is, you know more about this creature than I do, Lucas,” she said, stretching herself out after he’d finished purifying her mana with magical moonlight. “Quite apart from the fact I’ve had very little interactions with it since learning of its existence, you’re the one who’s bonded it to your soul. Even if I’d read a book that revealed every detail of your companion’s existence, that knowledge wouldn’t compare to what you can get from inspecting your bond.”

  “Fair enough,” Lucas said, directing part of his attention internally. “But honestly, I’m not sure if I can get any useful answers even through that. Can you make any guesses, based on the differences between pyromancy and lunamancy?”

  “Hm. Lunamancy is an extremely rare discipline, owing to the scarcity of the mana it relies on. While that pendant was in my possession, you could make the argument that I was the world’s foremost practitioner, though not by any means its top expert.”

  “The latter title would go to Claire, I assume?”

  “Correct. Regardless, I know enough to state the most obvious difference: pyromancy is about turning one’s own soul into a power source for magic, while lunamancy relies on absorbing an outside element.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “Your bonded companion consumed a pendant that contained decades of stored lunar mana and, though it immediately expelled a majority of it into your creation, I suppose it’s possible that it has combined the two disciplines. Turned itself into a source of lunar mana.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “I don’t know,” Valerie said. “But Lady Claire often said magic is without limit, and it’s us, people, who insist on stifling it with our categorisations and disciplines.” She paused, letting out a mirthless scoff. “Of course, that’s easy for her to say, when she stands head and shoulders above any other Wand in this age. Limits for her and limits for the rest of us are very different things. But then again, I suppose that applies to you, too.”

  “Well, I definitely hope I don’t have to absorb lunar mana every night. If Jamie really is a moonlight battery now, that’d come in pretty handy against demons, I imagine.” Lucas grimaced as he shook his head. “The thought of fighting one of those things at all is insane to me, as I am right now. Knowing that the others fought them solo…”

  “There aren’t many people alive who could defeat a demon in single combat, yes. And even those that can do so generally don’t fight a demon alone unless there’s no other choice. The risks are simply too great.”

  Lucas raised an eyebrow. “There’s people aside from the Great Heroes who can do it?”

  Lucas cringed on the inside at using a term like the Great Heroes to refer to his friends, but Valerie didn’t seem to notice. “I’d say there’s maybe a few dozen. Veteran warriors who’ve learned the best practices and old Wands with great repertoires of magic—for the most part, though, our greatest weapons against the demons are people who are born with or develop unique abilities.”

  “Huh,” Lucas said. “That makes me feel a little better, I guess. But still… The idea I’m meant to be one of those people some day is pretty daunting, after last night.”

  “Understandable,” Valerie said. She opened her mouth as if to continue, then went still, eyes snapping to something in the distance. Lucas quickly moved to follow her gaze, but even with Jamie’s senses, saw nothing.

  “What is it?” He asked.

  “Movement on the road,” Valerie said.

  ~~~

  Taunton’s survivors were a saddening sight to behold. They trudged along the path, exhaustion clear in their slumped shoulders, dragged steps, and drooping eyelids. There was a palpable aura of despair permeating the group, despite the fact they’d survived and escaped their harrowing experience in the clutches of a sadistic demon. Many of them seemed almost dead on their feet, having to be led along by one of their more awake and aware comrades, and there weren’t many of the latter.

  Of the survivors, Wick seemed the most aware of his surroundings, walking at the head of the group as was his habit. But even he looked like he was ready to collapse, stumbling every few steps. None of them noticed Lucas and Valerie waiting on the road a hundred or so metres ahead of them, and Wick was no better.

  Lucas grimaced, his throat tightening as he beheld the pitiful procession. He got the feeling that none of them had been able to stop and rest; he could see a couple more children aside from the two Aly was still carrying, as well as an older man who appeared to only still be on his feet by a miracle. There was no sign of the farmer, Elwyn. Or the other Skycloak who’d been tasked with overseeing the town, Deryn.

  There were also only twenty-three people, when Valerie had previously counted twenty-seven. For a moment, he deluded himself with the comforting lie that Valerie had merely counted wrong; an understandable mistake, given the lack of visibility and the chaotic situation.

  But no. Closing his eyes and putting his hands over his ears, even metaphorically speaking, never solved anything. Whether those four people had fallen behind the group or if they’d been picked off by enemy action somehow, it was clear more had been lost.

  “Ser Wick,” Valerie called out when the group arrived within a reasonable distance. Lucas had wanted to run to them as soon as possible, but Valerie had held them back. Looking at them now, he understood. In their state, there was no telling how they would’ve reacted to a stranger surprising them out of nowhere.

  Wick came to a halt, looking up from where his gaze had been resting on the ground a few paces ahead of himself. He blinked blearily. “Captain Vayon,” he said after a moment, voice hoarse. His gaze strayed to Lucas, and Lucas had a horrible premonition of doom. Thankfully, the man apparently still had some wits about him, enough to remember to greet him with, “Ser James.”

  A ripple went through the group at the interruption. A kind of human pile-up occurred as people started bumping into each other, not realising the one in front of them had stopped, and it cascaded along their lines. Soon, the whole group had halted, and it seemed inertia had been the only thing keeping many of them going. Well over half of the pack collapsed, some falling unconscious, others’ stamina simply giving out.

  Like a dam had been broken, emotions started flooding back in. In moments, the silence had been broken by dozens of wailing voices, cries of despair, quiet sobs, and a general outpouring of grief. There was relief in there too, to be certain, the kind of half-sobbing laughter that could only come from surviving something truly harrowing.

  Even Wick drew in a few shaky breaths before seeming to steel himself. There was a dark look in his eyes as he approached Lucas and Valerie, and by the time he was close enough to whisper and be heard, his head was bowed, his eyes screwed shut in remembered pain. “Forgive me,” he breathed. “I was unable to protect you.”

  “That’s the last thing I’m concerned about right now,” Lucas whispered, wary of the possibility of the translation magic giving him away. He figured the chances of those poor people figuring him out were low, but he wasn’t willing to take anything above zero, after the incident in Pentaburgh. There was no knowing who’d be hostile.

  “You escape the demon?” Valerie murmured, her sharp gaze flitting between the survivors as if cataloguing them.

  “I believe it no longer pursues us, but I can’t be sure,” Wick said. He nodded at Lucas. “Those sheep of yours kept up harassing it for miles out of Taunton, but they couldn’t stray too far from those glowing plants.”

  “Do you think they survived?” Lucas asked.

  Wick grimaced. “I deem that unlikely.”

  “Were there no other survivors aside from those with you now?” Valerie asked.

  “I deem that very unlikely,” Wick said. “The demon… it made a game of hurting us, tormenting us. It wanted to break us down, crush our spirits. And what I saw of those people when it succeeded in that endeavour…” Wick shivered, and his eyes looked haunted. “I’m not sure if I would want any of them to survive that.”

  Valerie grimaced. “We must get moving, and soon. The demon is undoubtedly still out there, and we have no reason to believe it’s given up the pursuit for good. When nightfall comes…”

  Wick looked behind him. Almost all the survivors had collapsed to the floor now, some sitting, some lying down. Many were unconscious, and even those that were still awake didn’t seem ready to go anywhere any time soon.

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Lucas said on Wick’s behalf.

  Valerie gave him a look then, and he knew what she was going to say without her needing to say it.

  “We can’t leave them again,” Lucas hissed.

  A moment of silence passed, their gazes locked on each other. Valerie’s was neutral, but Lucas put all his determination and stubbornness into his own.

  Eventually, Valerie sighed. “I’ll do what I can to heal them, and they’ll have time to rest. But we must be on the move by nightfall; there shouldn’t be any danger this far south, but there shouldn’t have been any danger in Taunton, either.” Her gaze panned back to the survivors, assessing. “I have a bad feeling about all this.”

  “I think we all have a bad feeling, right now,” Lucas said. “Getting attacked by a demon will do that to you.”

  “No,” Valerie said. “I suspect the overall situation is much worse than that.”

  There was little conversation to be had with the other survivors. Most were unconscious, exhausted, but even those who were awake didn’t have much to say, often trapped within their own minds. Lucas stayed close to Valerie as she worked her healing magic, having to provide her with lunar mana for her workings. It went some way to easing the tension in the group, but not all the way. Not enough.

  Remembering how he’d felt for the brief moment he’d been under the demon’s sway, and taking into account the fact he’d had some significant protection courtesy of Valerie’s pendant, he couldn’t blame them for their sorry state. The demon had tormented them for a good half hour, and many hadn’t escaped the experience with their lives.

  It seemed to him that plenty of the people here hadn’t fully escaped, either. More than a few had a distant look on their face, twitching and muttering to themselves, frightened by any movement. Others were catatonic, their eyes empty. Valerie’s healing did what it could for them, but often she just put them to sleep.

  Despite all that, the survivors who were still cognizant enough to recognise their surroundings and speak were perhaps the worst.

  They found Aly towards the back of the group, still clutching the farmer’s children to her sides. Her eyes were wide and haunted, but they focused on Valerie’s face when they approached, gaining a sharp edge. “You,” she muttered. Her voice seemed impossibly small. “I remember you. We met in the forest. Travelled together.”

  “Yes, that’s me,” Valerie said, approaching the girl slowly, like she was a wounded animal that could lash out at any moment. “I’m Valerie, and this is James. We were comrades, for a while.”

  “I looked for you at the keep, when that thing attacked, but you weren’t there,” Aly said with a note of quiet accusation in her voice. Some others nearby stirred at those words, and guilt gnawed at Lucas’ stomach. He ached to apologise, but Valerie seemed to sense this and shot him a warning look.

  “We made to put some distance between us and the enemy, so James could prepare the spell you saw,” Valerie said. “You recall the sheep he gave magic to? And the white plants?”

  Aly nodded slowly. “When I looked at the plants, the things it was doing to me seemed far away. Made me realise it was showing me a dream.” She shuddered, jostling the children she clung to. “It felt so real. I saw my mother, the look on her face. Just like I remembered, and even things I forgot, like her freckles.” She hiccuped. “It made me watch. Over and over again. Things I never wanted to remember. Now I can’t stop thinking about them.”

  “There are no greater evils in this world than the one you faced last night, Aly,” Valerie said softly, taking another slow step forward. “And you did very well to survive it. You were very brave.”

  “I don’t feel brave,” Aly said.

  “You saved those two children. Eleanor and Elbert, I believe?”

  Aly flinched, then frantically looked down, her eyes wide. She shook the two children, suddenly panicked. “Eleanor! Elbert! Are you okay?”

  Valerie closed the distance, placing a glowing hand on Aly’s shoulder. The young bowmaiden stilled, her eyes drooping. “You did incredibly well, Aly. They’ll be fine.”

  “I tried to save Elwyn too,” she murmured, her eyes misting over. “But he wouldn’t move. He just kept staring at that… that thing. I tried to tell him it wasn’t his wife, just like that other thing wasn’t my mother. But he wouldn’t listen to me. And then…”

  “Hush now, child. Rest,” Valerie said, and Aly drooped even further, her words devolving into incoherent mumbles. Her grip slacked on the children, and Valerie wasted no time scooping them up.

  “Fucking hell,” Lucas whispered under his breath, moving to join her. Then, louder: “Are they okay?”

  “No,” Valerie said. “But they’re not unsaveable, if we get them to the Moontower swiftly enough. Being civilians with very little mana actually worked in their favour, here; I imagine the demon was less interested in them.”

  “Will we be able to get them there in time, do you think? You said Dawnguard is about a week away…” Lucas trailed off at the look on her face. “What about the rest of these people, too?”

  “They’re all going to need to see healers,” Valerie said grimly, rising to her feet with the two children now cradled in each arm. She looked around, assessing the group. “Our previous plan is untenable. We can’t afford to dawdle.”