Page 81 of The Howling
Fenrother releases another belch of fire.
“Wynter!” Lilburn calls out my name and I’m next to her in a heartbeat.
“You brought them?” I ask.
“Linton brought the Wyrm,” Lilburn says. “Not sure if that was a good idea, but he’s here now.”
“I have to get to Reavely,” I say urgently as another howl, this one louder, reaches me over the noise of the fight.
“You can’t. It’s too dangerous,” she says.
I hold up the jewel. “Not with this,” I say. “Please, take me to him.”
WYNTER
Lilburn takes hold of me, and with a pop in my ears, it goes dark from all the fire and smoke, and then the chaos bursts in again.
I want to throw up. It’s like my insides are outside, but I don’t have time. I know, although I don’t know how, that I have to get the stone to Reavely. It’s as if the gem is calling to me.
I am just the guardian. It must be only a Barghest can wield it.
With Fenrother distracting (and incinerating) most of the Reivers, Reavely is making short work of those left, jaws snapping, paws stamping, and the area around him littered with body parts.
I glance over at where I last saw Lord Soulis, but the demon Faerie has gone.
Are we winning?
“Reavely!” I call out his name and he spins with a growl and a whimper.
“Wynter.” My name drops from his jaws as a desire and a need.
“You have to have this!” I hold up the jewel.
With a crack, a spear of lightning slams into the polished stone floor, knocking me off my feet, sending me skidding backwards, bumping into dead Reivers and further away from Reavely.
The bolt has also briefly stopped Fenrother, and Reavely is shaking his head as if he’s been hit, pawing at his nose. The magic which had receded is filling the space once again, building like a flammable gas.
Lord Soulis hasn’t given up. He isn’t beaten, not yet.
I hear Reavely growl my name. He grasps the Wyrm by the tail and pulls at him, racing towards me, Fenrother in tow. He reaches us as another lightning crack hits just to one side.
“Now, Wynter, now!” Lilburn urges me. “Use the stone now!”
I don’t know what she means. Reavely is nearly on top of us, his head turning as he flings Fenrother through the air ahead of him, leaping after him, his massive bulk blotting out the light as the lightning comes again.
And this time I see the jagged spike. As if in slow motion, it pierces his shoulder.
“No!” I scream out, dimly aware I have the jewel in my hand. “No!”
Time stands still, Reavely’s head tossed back in a twist of agony, Fenrother’s eyes rolling as he impacts the ground, Lilburn’s mouth open in a scream.
“It would appear you win,” a dark shape standing at my side says.
It’s covered from head to foot in a long, dark cloak. It isn’t just black, it’s something else, something which sucks in the light. And it’s not fabric. It’s something I don’t want to inspect too closely. The cloak has a cowl which hides the head of the creature. Instinctively, I take a step away.
“I don’t want to win,” I say, surveying the frozen, terrible scene, my heart in my throat and tears in my eyes. “I want Reavely.”
“And I wanted you,” the Reaper says. “Your soul is interesting to me.” The cowl inclines. “I asked Reavely to take you for me, but he refused.”
