Page 55 of Cursed Shadows

“You’re running out of time,” Baron interjects.

“If I release you, you return to Grimreap at once,” she tells him. “You tell no one what happened here. You shrink back into the shadows and you disappear. Do you understand?”

Baron nods.

“We can’t let him go!” shouts Dravon.

“Variant doesn’t know he’s even here,” Anona spits back at him. “He’s no one.” Little does she really know…

“True,” Baron responds. “I am no one.”

“Now, where is the antidote?” she hollers, her voice strained from the effort of yelling with her weakened lungs.

“My satchel,” Baron orders as Anona instructs Dravon to untie him. The huge, lumbering beast pauses for a moment but then grumbles something indistinguishable and fumbles with Baron’s bindings.

“No, I won’t bring you your satchel,” Anona returns. “That wasn’t the deal. I released you, now tell me which is the antidote.”

Just then, I’m startled by a noise behind me: the soft whirring of a pair of small wings. I remain immobile, committed to my charade of unconsciousness. Until I know how to help Baron, the element of surprise will remain all I have on my side.

***

FLUMPH

Riverine, for all its pretty colors, be heavy as shit.

By the time I makes it back to the fork in the road where I was separated from my group o’ assholes, I be tired as a warlock after a busy night in a whorehouse. The heavy stone weighs as much as I does, an’ its weight anchors me only a few feet above the dusty ground.

Good news is, being so close to the ground, it’s easy to make out the footsteps of my five companions. I follow their tracks for miles, my forehead drippin’ with greasy sweat an’ my hands slippin’ from the edges o’ the rock with every flap o’ my wings. I zig zag between Eilish’s small prints an’ the rest o’ them dickheads’.

I stop a lot to rest, but everytimes I do, I hear Shadow Butt’s voice in my ear yellin’ at me to keep flyin’. I can’t get aways from him, even when he ain’t even here!

Dick.

I lift the fabric o’ my shirt to see if my belly looks smaller. All this starvin’ an’ flyin’ ought to at least make me a little better lookin’. The shiny, slightly hairy hill o’ flesh that greets me proves I gots a long way to go on my weight loss journey. Not that I’m really tryin’, though. A fat sprite is the best kinda sprite, far’s I’m concerned.

Starin’ at the footsteps in front o’ me shows I’ve got me a long way to go. I sigh, pick up the rock, an’ carry off down the road once more.

After what feels like forevers an’ a half, the tracks change. Three more sets o’ prints join the ones I been followin’. A weight even heavier than this damned rock lands isself right in my stomach. An’ even though I’m hungrier than shit, I feels like I’m gonna hurl up whatever’s left inside me.

As I’m floatin’ above ‘em, the path made by my friends jist stops. Looks to me like they’ve run into some company.

Fear finds me fast. My first thought ain’t for my friends’ safety, but my own. I mean, I gotta look out fer me, ‘cause none o’ them seems too keen ta do it. Save maybe the angel. But, much as I wanna help, I also like bein’ alive.

And chances are, the lot o’ them be all dead… or at least close. Unless I wanna follow in their footsteps, it’s better ta get as far away as possible.

But what if they be alive?

Sometimes, I hate that goody-goody voice that go off in my head.

I look back at my sweaty belly, jigglin’ whiles I waver in the air. If they wanted rescuin’, maybe they shoulda found themselves a fitter sprite.

But then I think o’ the angel. I risked it all to save her before; I can do it agin. She could be the key to endin’ Variant, an’ that’s a big deal. Bigger than my life, bigger than anybody’s life, even bigger than my grumblin’ stomach.

Soze, I take off down the path agin, this time followin’ the tire tracks that carry on forevers. Decidin’ to help gives me new energy, an’ the stone feels lighter than it did before. It ain’t slippin’ from my hands no more, anyways.

Before long, I make out the sight o’ a fire off the road a bit. ‘Bout the same time, I sees black, charred ground that takes over the tracks I been followin’. Somethin’ happened here. A fire, maybes? I get even more scared.

The wind carries a voice to where I’m hoverin’ over the burnt road an’ I turn to ice. I’d know that voice anywheres, ‘cause it haunts my dreams most nights.

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