Page 67 of Court of Shadows
“Them girls in the house didn’t say much neither.” It was Samuel Potts, spitting, hammering back his rifle and lifting it to his shoulder. “You’re a creepy bunch, eh? Who’s to say you didn’t bring harm to that girl? We’ve searched this whole forest, the whole bloody county, she’s not ’ere. What’d you lot do with her?”
A shower of fiery canvas and wood exploded into the sky, falling down on us like scarlet rain. They were running out of time in the tent and we were running out of time out here. The shepherd huddled over Sparrow, the dog curled up between them, showings its teeth and growling at the men. That seemedto make the elder Breen nervous, and he kept his gun trained on the dog, waiting for it to lunge.
I was tired and aching, my cheek bloodied, my ankles skinned and raw. My patience felt paper thin, and then it tore, a strangled cry breaking from my throat as Mason took another daring step and poked his bayonet toward me. It nearly stabbed my hand. And I stared down the gun, knowing what came next, remembering the shot as it ripped through Lee, remembering it as if I were living it again. His terrible cry. The sound of his body hitting the floor. The press of his uncle’s body against mine as he tried and tried to snuff out my life.
It would be different this time, I told myself, closing my eyes. It had to be.
“Louisa...” Mr. Morningside had tried to nudge me but I did not move. I was concentrating, dipping deep into what little vigor remained in my body, finding a last reserve of strength and a welcome burst of inspiration.
To become smaller was pain, most certainly; to become bigger was agony. My skin erupted, bones lengthening, flesh sprouting fur as I became not woman but beast, massive and terrifying to behold, wielding hands with claws and a snout with fangs, and purple eyes that could pierce the night. I had drawn his blood, after all, a lucky shot, a graze of the cheek.
My scream startled the men as much as the transformation, and they fumbled backward, clumsily bumping into one another as the whites of their eyes flashed. I could smelleverything. Fear,the ash, the smoke, the musk of perspiration and the pine tang of the trees, the sweet grass and the blood welling from Sparrow’s wounds. The blood ignited something in this thing I had become, and I gave another jackal’s cry, lumbering toward the men, claws ripping at air and then, I hoped, at flesh.
The moonlight felt like silk on my furred body as I sprang into violence. It was exhilarating even as it was exhausting. They lost their footing as I charged, and I tore into Samuel Potts first, clawing a gash in his chest that exposed bone to starlight. More blood, and more. This form could not get enough of the rich, coppery smell. Pain seared across my left side, and I yelped, spinning, batting Mason back as his bayonet sank into my hide. There was another stab and I flailed blindly, catching the elder Breen on the chin. He flew backward, but not before discharging his weapon. The bullet was fire in my chest, the blood that poured out of the hole hotter still.
My strength was failing, my grasp on the transformation slipping. Another stab. Another. I heard Mr. Morningside bellowing at my back and I saw him, briefly, charging at the men when all their bullets had been discharged. My vision blurred, trees becoming sky becoming moon. It was so itchy all over, so warm, but then, horribly, very cold.
I reeled, stumbling, falling from hind legs to fore, and then slowly I felt small again and the pain was worse, much worse, not endured by the body of a massive beast but that of a young and frail girl.
There were voices all around me, a man’s cry of pain, and then another. I rolled onto my back and stared up longingly at the sky. The moon was so, so bright and beautiful. I tried to reach up and touch it, but there was no way to move my arm.
Mr. Morningside was suddenly at my side, trying to herd me into his lap. He shook me once, hand on my cheek.
“Stay with me, Louisa. Stay here.”
No, I thought, closing my eyes into restless bliss. It’s time.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Are you lost, child?”
I had read about jungles but quite obviously had never seen one with my eyes. The humidity came first, like a damp caress, and then the sound of water playing over stones. Fronds arced above my head, explosively bright flowers lining the ground in such abundance I could never have counted them all.
The voice. I knew that voice. I turned toward it, away from the glory of the jungle’s palms and blossoms, and found the source of the voice and the water. There was a waterfall, an entire wall of waterfalls, and a woman walking toward me. She was the most beautiful person I had ever seen, tall and strong, with well-muscled arms and thick legs. Her skin was dark purple, so dark it was almost black. Her hair, pink and long, was coiled and pinned into a heart shape on her head, the plaits dotted with jewels. Most incredible of all were her eyes, the predominant pair wide and pink, though she had eight eyes in total, with smaller ones curving up along her cheekbones.
“Are you lost?” she asked me again. Her voice was like music, melodic and soft, a voice I had heard before when it came from my bones.
I moved toward her as if reeled in on a line. I wanted to be near her.Beher.
“My feet are on the path,” I told her. “At least... I thought so. Where is this?”
“You will only be staying for a little while,” she said with a warm smile. She towered over me as she approached, dressed in a simple pale dress, the color of summer peaches. “But do not worry, dear one, you will see me again.”
“I don’t want to go,” I said. Vaguely, I knew that wherever I was supposed to be was not a happy place. Was this the Dusk Lands? If so, it did not seem so bad after all. Staying there, in that paradise, sounded much, much better. “Can I not stay here with you?”
She laughed, scrunching up her many eyes playfully. “Oh, no, for this is nowhere, an in-between place, and no home for a young girl such as you.” Her ears perked up and she tilted her head to the side, sighing. “Ah. Well. It is almost time for you to go, but you must remember one thing when you awake....”
“The other place is ugly. I don’t want to go.”
Again she giggled at me and shook her head. “You will make it more beautiful; that is your path. And remember this, dear one: do not forget me. See this,” and here she pressed one finger to the swollen bite on my hand. “See this and remember.”
“I... will try,” I said. “How do you know it is time for me to go?”
Her image began to waver as if it were only a mirage. I took in one last smile from her as she looked sadly toward the waterfall. “Because I sense his power again, and if they have donewhat I think they have, that means you have gained a gift and a burden. Remember, dear one, remember...”
“By God, it worked! You absolute genius, it worked!”
Breath flooded into me hard enough to make me choke. I sat up, coughing uncontrollably, spitting up so much pink foam that the men around me recoiled in unison. I was alive—had I died? Where had I gone? I looked around, realizing whatever I had just seen was already fading from memory. No matter how much I tried, I could not think of even a single detail.
