Page 44 of Mud

Then she died.

Chapter 11

Erid never got to finish her spell. Something big and wide, almost the size of a tree trunk, simply landed behind her with the gracefulness of a…well,cat.

It then proceeded to basically tear her head from her shoulders in one swift movement of a clawed paw.

A part of my mind still insisted that this wasn’t real, that this strangeness in my chest wasn’t real, that I was in a dream. Michael wasn’t screaming, and Jim and Jam weren’t running to the other side, deeper into the darkness of the woods, away from all of us. Michael wasn’t shooting his gun at the catfairie who was way too fast even for those bullets—the same catfairie we’d seen in that picture, with the body pieces of an agent sprawled all around him. A helmet, a boot, an arm.

Goddess, he really was as big and as scary as he’d looked in the picture.

And his paw went straightthroughMichael’s back when he simply materialized behind my team leader.

Well.Formerteam leader.

Now, Michael’s heart disappeared among the tall grassof the floor of the forest. He fell to his knees first, then on his face, never to stand again.

The catfairie looked at the blood dripping from his claws curiously.

So strange. So fucking strange—and not just my insides, but the outside, too.

So…fast.

Erid, dead. Michael, dead.

Me?Soon-to-bedead.

I’d forgotten to chant—of course I had. I’d forgotten to breathe, too, and maybe that’s why I could no longer even move my hands. Or was that the blood loss?

Could be.

All I knew was that I wanted to be satisfied. I wanted to behappythat I’d seen Michael die before he had the chance to kill me. Happy that my life wouldn’t end at the hand of the traitorous bastard, happy that I’d be cut into pieces by those curved claws instead.

Maybe it would have been better to die by Taland’s hands instead,whispered a voice in my head.But at least the catfairie will make it quick…

Big blue eyes with slit pupils over me. He was there, right there, barely a couple of feet away from me, and he wasn’t making a single sound, just watching me. Just coming closer to finish me off.

At least Jim and Jam had gotten away. They’d tell people what had happened, what Michael had tried to do.

At least Poppy would know how I died.

Warm breath on my face.

A snap and a loud thump came from somewhere in the woods—and it was so unusually quiet now that it was impossible to miss it. No birds chirping. No small animalsrunning. Even the leaves and the water of the river were too afraid to make a sound.

My eyes blinked and the last thing I saw was the catfairie, who had leaned over me, turn his head to see where the sound had come from.

I passed out.

If you’re ever alone or in need of something, anything at all, go to the blue house behind the hill. I’ll find you there eventually.

Death felt strange.

I was happy that I hadn’t felt any pain besides getting shot in the leg by my team leader, the very guy who was supposed to give up his life to protect me. But I hadn’t felt the pain of claws slicing my body, and for that I was thankful.

Until my eyes opened and I saw light and I realized Ihadn’tdied. Ihadn’tbeen sliced into tiny pieces by a seven-foot tall catfairie with claws. I hadn’t even died of blood loss from being shot in the leg.

No, I was still alive. Very much breathing.

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