102. Awaken! (Patreon)

Morag loomed over Oz. “It’s time to crush the little mouse nibbling at my Patriarch’s corpse.”

Abandoning stealth for a moment, Oz darted to the left. Morag instantly followed him, tracing him from his footsteps. The second his foot landed, she darted forth, faster than Oz could move. A punch flew for his chest.

Oz jumped backward with her punch. His bones groaned, and his lungs and heart trembled. He coughed, and spat blood. It splashed into the dirt. The pain didn’t hit, held off by a jolt of adrenaline rushing through his system. He circulated his qi, reinforcing his body. His bones shook, clearly not in good shape.

When that pain lands, I’m crippled. I need to position myself to survive by then. Oz pushed off at an angle as if to jump left once more, but leaped with all his might, sending the majority of his force directly downward. He soared left and upward, but mostly up. His bones groaned, but he flew into the air, ricocheting toward the pole and Naomhan’s shoulder.

Down below, Morag looked around, her eyes narrowed. She clenched and unclenched her hand. “I felt you, mouse. Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

Soaring into the air over Naomhan’s shoulder, Oz reached into his robes. He threw one of the counterfeit books down to the left of Naomhan, on the far side of his body.

Morag’s head snapped around. She darted around Naomhan, toward the sound.

Oz landed lightly on Naomhan’s shoulder. Almost in the same heartbeat, the pain slammed into his chest. He gritted his teeth, biting his lip, and sagged backward, falling into the nook of Naomhan’s neck, under his chin. A strange, faint aura enveloped him, a qi signature not his own washing over him. And yet, there was a stagnancy to the signature, a certainty that it would never beat again. Oz took a slow breath through gritted teeth, every single drop of air aching in and out of his chest. He looked upward. By now, surely…?

Morag landed on the other side of Naomhan and grimaced. She kicked the book. “Cute trick, little mouse, but the time for tricks is over.”

A shriek sounded from outside. A wolf howled, and a thousand feet battered the ground, chasing after it.

Morag glared, then shook her head. “You won’t distract me so easily.”

Another wolf howled, then another, then another. The sound of raging feet sounded from every direction, as all the black-haired undead poured from the black pools all over the camp, all running in different directions toward the borders of the camp.

Oz grinned. Right on time, Loup! Just like I said, use the raw chickens Aisling brought to lure the hungry ghosts out of the black water! If we can lure the hungry ghosts out of the camp, the dark mages will have to chase after them, lest they get far enough for the Mages’ Quarter mages to sense them. After all, the wolf’s glamour doesn’t cover the entire region, only the camp. They don’t have to go very far to risk being seen by the mages!

And, of course, Morag doesn’t know how many of us there are, or what our goal is. There’s no reason for her to continue chasing the lone, weak me, when there might be dozens of powerful mages fighting her precious hungry ghosts.

Morag whirled. She lifted her lip, staring out of the tent. Glancing back at Naomhan, she scoffed. “If you weren’t so close to Naomhan, I would have scorched you to death already. Stay here, little mouse. I’ll be right back.”

With that, Morag chased after the hungry ghosts.

Silence. Overhead, the ring shook, just a bit.

Ah, fuck. I need to explain things to the wolf. I’m the only one who knows exactly how this works…shit. Holding his chest, Oz slowly climbed to his feet. Every breath, every motion, sent waves of pain through his body, but he pushed himself to keep moving. He climbed up to the top of Naomhan’s hair, then leaped upward. He caught the very edge of the ring and went to pull himself up, only for his entire chest to burst in sharp pain. Oz hissed, barely keeping the scream down.

Warm hands grabbed his arms. A sharp jolt shot through his chest, and then Aisling set him down beside her on the ring. “Oz, are you hurt?”

“I’m hurt, but, but, it’ll be fine,” Oz said, pushing her away. He nodded at Aisling. “Can you throw me to the wolf? I’m not sure I can reach her if I jump.”

Aisling nodded. She went to wrap her arms around Oz’s chest.

He flinched away. “Not—not my chest, please…”

She paused, then knelt, sliding a hand in front of his foot. “Step. I’ll fling you up.”

Oz stepped forward. Aisling flung him up. The wolf’s tail flew toward him, and Oz dropped down into its fluffy embrace.

The wolf came to life. She peered down at him. “So, have you come up with a method?”

Oz nodded. He turned, looking down at the camp.

Morag chased after one of the wolves, quickly gaining on it. The other three wolves continued running, leading the black-haired hungry ghosts after them. Baltair was nowhere to be seen, nor whoever Baltair had spoken to, back in the dullahan village. Less than ideal, but who knows? Maybe they’re off somewhere else. This is as good as we’re going to get. Plus, Morag is here. She isn’t going to escape the blame.

“Aisling!” Oz called.

“Understood!”

Heat emanated off an unseen source below them, growing rapidly more and more intense. A mirage appeared, shimmering on the air—a mirage that reflected the wolf where it hung on the pole.

“I recently created a basic glamour, a glamour where I projected my qi behind a mirror, and used that to disguise my appearance. So I thought, wouldn’t the opposite be possible? If I gave you a mirror, couldn’t you use that to project your qi into the mirror world, and you then use that mirrored qi to disrupt the glamour they’d cast? The opposite of what I did to cast the glamour, basically,” Oz explained to the wolf.

The wolf laughed. She lifted a claw to her mouth and yanked out one of her fangs. Lowering her hand, she handed it to Oz. The fang stretched easily to his shoulder, nearly as wide as Fflyn was. “A keepsake, then. For that daughter of mine.”

“Then, will it work?” Oz asked, anxious. “I had a few more ideas, but they weren’t as good—”

“It will work,” the wolf replied firmly. Facing the mirror, she lowered her head. A vast surge of qi flowed past Oz, vanishing into the mirage.

Below, Aisling grunted. She flickered visible for a moment, sweat rolling down her face.

“Aisling, are you okay?” Oz asked.

“I can hold on,” she replied firmly.

Oz nodded. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I’m fine.”

The wolf’s brows furrowed. The wolf reflected in the mirage frowned as well.

“What is it?” Oz asked, worried.

The wolf shook her head. “This glamour…the humans did something strange. I can’t figure out how to dispel it.”

Oz patted her tail. “Can you let me take a look?”

“You are a human, after all. Here. See.” She lowered her head, touching the top of his head with her nose.

The world expanded before Oz’s eyes. Black burst out, then contracted, and when it all settled, he stood before himself in blackness, surrounded by distant silvery points of light.

“Where are we?” Oz asked.

“Here.”