Page 36 of A Door in the Dark

It was so tempting to look over her shoulder. How close was the creature? How big? Was it a wyvern or a bear or a wolf? She quickened her steps as much as she dared. If she slipped, though, the entire spell would flicker out. All of them would drop into the water, and there was no telling if the creature pursuing them would have the advantage then or not. She could think of several predators that would be more suited to the water than they were.

Avy finally noticed the others had stopped. When he turned back, his good eye widened like a moon. “What the hell is that?”

Theo still hadn’t moved. Ren and Timmons were approaching his position. She was trying to stay calm, trying to keep her eyes on the golden road ahead. “Theo. Start walking. Now.”

His mouth hung open. Sweat trickled down his forehead.

“But it’s Clyde.”

Those were the only words that could have made Ren turn. There was no logic to them. Clyde? What was Clyde? A dark curiosity forced her to look back.

There was the golden road, and the pearl-blue river, and him.

Clyde was seventy paces back, making his shambling way forward. He looked like something that had crawled out of the morass. Something from a cruel fairy tale. His entire body was a giant scorch pattern. It had bubbled up on his skin. There was color only in places where the magic had failed to fully burn it away. His left eye was still blue. One bone-pale button glistened near the center of his chest. Checkered fabric slashed across his stomach like the tattered remnants of a flag.

He raised a burned hand. Ren felt magic flick against her senses like a whip.

Nothing physical manifested. Instead she felt her mind briefly plunge into darkness. There was a slight rip at the back of her conscience. Like something too large was trying to force its way through a narrow door. A second later her vision of the world returned.

She was on the river. And she saw the others had been hit by that wave of magic as well. Hands were pressed to temples. Eyes squinted in pain. A glance back showed Clyde closing the distance. Their only advantage was the physical weakness of his body. All the corporeal damage forced him into a graceless shamble. Still, he was coming.

Ren solidified her grasp on that golden light, pinned her eyes to the waiting bank, and started walking. Timmons stumbled once before picking up the rhythm. Theo looked frozen in place until Ren kicked him in the shin. He let out a cry, but it worked. His eyes locked on hers.

“Get moving,” she snapped. “We need to get to the other bank now.”

He started to backpedal. Cora was already putting distance between herself and the monster pursuing them. Clyde, Ren thought. The monster chasing us is Clyde. The waiting riverbank wasn’t steep. Water-slick stones formed a gentle slope. Avy took Cora’s hand, pulling her to safety and urging her to start climbing. Theo maneuvered past him without a word. Ren and Timmons had fifty paces left when Avy began backtracking to help them.

“Keep moving,” he whispered. “Just keep moving.”

The next moan transformed into a growl. Avy’s reaction made it clear the creature was close enough to charge them. He settled into a wrestler’s stance and slid protectively around them, intentionally placing himself in Clyde’s path. Ren had no idea how her magic would react, but she was forced to turn sideways. It took every ounce of her mental energy to keep the golden bridge on both sides steady and intact.

One hand was aimed at the bank they’d left behind. The other was aimed at the bank ahead. Timmons was well trained. She ducked in time with Ren’s movements, keeping both hands touching Ren’s shoulders, never once breaking contact. The two of them continued sidestepping toward the safety of the waiting bank as Avy called out a warning to Clyde.

“Last chance to go back before I break you into a hundred pieces. I don’t know what the hell you are, but you’re not welcome here. Turn around now or I’ll…”

As Ren reached the riverbank, she heard a voice. Not echoing out over the water, but whispering through her mind. It was dark and rasping.

I am hungry and you are food.

Avy was still crouched in a wrestler’s stance with his hands out. The bright sunlight glinted over his bronzed skin. Every muscle was flexed and ready, a body prepared to do what it had spent years training to do: violence. But as Ren watched, Avy straightened unnaturally. All the bravado vanished. He stood there in silence. The creature leapt on him. Charred legs wrapped around the bigger boy’s waist. Clyde’s arms circled Avy’s thick neck, interlocking so that they were chest to chest. Avy didn’t resist. He didn’t cry out. He just stood there as Clyde draped around him like a lover.

The creature stared over Avy’s shoulder, watching them with that lonely blue eye.

Theo and Cora were there, dragging Ren and Timmons safely up onto the bank. The golden light of the bridge trembled in earnest now. Clyde stared with that hungry expression before adjusting his position. He set a blackened hand on each side of Avy’s motionless head. All the others could do was watch as the creature snapped his neck with a sharp twist.

The bridge vanished. Solid gold became sunlight again. The two figures plummeted into the river below. The last thing Ren saw was the creature, riding Avy’s body downstream.

21

Avy Williams was dead.

It’s all my fault. He’s dead and it’s all my fault.

In his absence every forest sound became more ominous. Ren heard Timmons cursing every five steps. They had no idea how far behind the creature was—or how quickly he was pursuing—and so they pushed themselves to their physical limits. Half running through a landscape that they were utterly unprepared to face. Cora had been crying silently to herself for the better part of an hour. Theo’s face looked like it would never fully regain its color. It wasn’t every day that your resurrected best friend hunted you through the wilderness.

Worse, Avy’s death exposed them. None of them were the sons or daughters of pioneers. Clyde had destroyed their most valuable source of wilderness knowledge. It reduced them to what they’d likely been all along: vulnerable survivors, hanging on by less than a thread.

It’s all my fault.

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