Page 91 of Oracle of Ruin

The face staring back at mine is torn straight from the pages of Irene’s favorite story, straight from my childhood nightmares. The elongated snout raises to the darkened sky, those slitted nostrils flaring. Its claws dig into the earthy ground, slicing through mud and stone as if it is nothing more than butter. Those slanted eyes open and I find myself caught in the stare of the Ricor.

“Do you know what that is?” Derrín whispers between bated breaths.

I can barely dip my chin in acknowledgment, too frozen in fear and whatever dark power it possesses. Judging by the carnage surrounding it, the Ricor does more than just eat the tongues of naughty children, as the story goes. Limbs and headless torsos that have been shred to ribbons litter the ground. The repugnant smell of blood and death overwhelms my senses, and it takes Derrín’s hand on my arm to shock me back to the present moment.

I jolt, and the Ricor snarls.

“Run,” I hiss, already springing to my feet. “Run!”

We take off not a moment too late as the Ricor rocks back on its haunches and launches itself towards where we were just hiding. A bone-chilling clicking sound comes from the back of its throat. Unlike the scream of the Kijova, it is breathy and high enough pitched that it rattles my eardrums.

“Whatisthat thing?” Derrín pants, his dark face reddening with exertion as we sprint to wherever our feet are taking us. The Kijova do not like water, so we always knew we could head for a river. The Ricor, however, has no such known weakness, none for us to exploit.

“Did Kya or Natara ever tell you the story of the Ricor?”

Derrín blanches but shakes his head.

“Ah,” I hiss between gritted teeth. “I always forget you had a loving, not fucked in the head family.”

“Can’t you use your magic on it? Blind it or something?”

I clench my jaw so hard it pops. I haven’t felt even the slightest whisper of my power beneath my skin since leaving Mavis. Whatever damper she placed on my abilities still holds now, and no recitations or rituals have been able to bring it back.

But we don’t need light magic to defeat a creature of darkness. Sometimes the only way to smother darkness is to be the greater darkness.

I spot spindly white trees ahead, fog drifting out from between those skeletal trunks. I recognize those from images within a book on Rowan’s desk and shiver. The Bone Wood. Right now, it might be our only option.

“Get to the Bone Wood and stay behind me.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Something you won’t like.”

Derrín clicks his tongue but says nothing else as he eyes the absence of a gore-speckled pouch at my side. I abandoned my sacrifices by the fire when we ran, but I don’t have much of a choice. It is either risk death by the hands of the curse or a sure death at the teeth and claws of the Ricor.

I settle for calling from the well of darkness that has taken hold inside of me. Derrín’s gaze narrows and he curses, something I’ve never heard him do before.

I dig my heels into the ground right at the tree line and spin around to face the thrashing beast. It’s only a few paces away now. I have only a few seconds to act before Derrín and I are both dead.

I unfurl my fist, my hand throbbing where the flesh split open weeks ago, so strong that I cry out as that dark power surges from it. Derrín grips at my shoulders as I sink to my knees. The darkness shoots out in several small skeins towards the beast and I swear vehemently.Control. I need to control it or we are doubly dead.

With the last of my strength, I force it into one smooth blade. At the last second, the sharp edge buries itself in its neck, slicing clean through its thick spinal cord and rotten flesh. The large head falls with a heavy thud in the mud-crusted snow, black blood like oil melting the ice and powder around it.

When using dark magic with a sacrifice, the ritual felt fulfilling and filled me with need simultaneously. But I was in control. I never felt that burning as the darkness consumed me entirely. Now, my whole body throbs and my vision goes blurry while starving need ravages my senses. I need to use that power again, need to feel its darkness call.

And yet it might kill me to do so.

Derrín yelps as I fall forward into the snow, my eyes heavy lidded and barely open. My hand burns with blinding pain as if I just split it open once more. I can feel phantom pieces of bark grate against my bones, my flesh screaming as the trunk tears through layers of tissue and muscle.

Vaguely, I feel his hands hook underneath my armpits and haul me into the mist. Pale and spindly roots greet my blurred vision, the fog obscuring the majority of the forest floor. Derrín grunts as he props me up against one of those skeletal trees. The last thing I see is his worried face before the sweet lull of darkness pulls me under.

Chapter37

Verosa

The first thing I notice when I come to is the low-burning fire and the scent of smoke that floods my senses. Derrín crouches beside the small flame, rocking back on his haunches when a smoldering twig cracks. The sound slices through the silence, rattling the tree canopy. I find myself gazing skyward, searching for stars or any sign of what time of night it is. I am met with nothing but a thick layer of bone-white branches and the occasional crimson leaf. One of them falls slowly towards the fire, flickering before catching flame and burning to nothing but ash.

I am awake, not in another dream or vision. That is what I have opted to call my last visit from Lucius. It was undoubtedly a vision. Somehow, the fallen prince managed to break through the hold the darkness had on him and warn me about the Ricor. He saved my life. The thought makes my head throb and I push those thoughts to the back of my mind if only for a moment.

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