Euffie nodded, holding the sack closely. Now that she knew what was in it, it felt priceless. She hadn't looked inside, but she believed Mother Marthera with every little speck of hair on her smooth slave head. Marthera was becoming grating, though. She didn't remember being annoyed with Mother Marthera. Just respectful.
Too respectful, she mumbled at herself. By this point, the “dread voice” no longer felt like a separate entity. After being around Marthera for over an hour, it felt like a normal part of her. Euffie still didn’t like it, but that was how it was.
Far, far too close for comfort, the Fade loomed over Euffie and Marthera, like a gigantic tree with a trunk so wide it stretched into both horizons. The purple mist seethed and hissed at this distance. The purple-splotched ground grew drier and deader the closer it got to the Fade. Even where Euffie and Marthera now stepped, less than a mile from its edge, the ground was coarse and the grass was sharp. Euffie recognized the minerals and the fruits which only grew here. Especially the bulbous, green nadderfruit. Gathering slaves like she had been could be seen picking and digging, avoiding the two and creating miles of distance.
The Kimto lake was the closest feature to the north. The Kimto river that fed it snaked away into the evening, until it reached the vast expanse of the Everwhite Seas. The city of Aleb, miles behind them, sat dimly lit on its near bank.
"Anyways, back to your things," Marthera said as the two trudged up an incline. "The compass ring is the most important part. Remember how to use it?"
"Yes, Mother Marthera." Euffie checked her finger to make sure it was still on. It was a simple ring, with a smooth lapis lazuli stone in it.
"Explain it back to me."
"Yes, Mother Marthera. If I scratch it, my ring's stone will light up and point in your ring's direction, no matter how far away you are."
"Correct," the vampire approved. "And if I need to find you, I'll just sniff you out. My matching ring's got a crack in it, which makes the beam all wiggly if it gets too close to yours. So I'll only be able to find you if you're really far away. Only time I'll need it, anyway. Got that?"
"Yes, Mother Marthera. Got it all in my head. Can we please stop talking for now?"
Marthera gave Euffie a strange look.
"I'd have thought slavery would make you more timid," she said. "Back in the orphanage, you were afraid of your own shadow. You may not have noticed, but I lowered my voice when I talked to you. Thought I might snap you in half if I yelled."
She smiled. "Now, you've got a spark in you. You're more like those kids I liked yelling at, cuz I knew they'd yell back. I still see the old you, when that engram of yours flickers, but damn, my girl. When you get that engram off, don't lose this new attitude you've got. Okay? It'll take you a long way if you use it right."
Euffie didn't know what to say. She was reminded of the dreams, or rather nightmares, that she always got when her engram let something from her past slip.
That's what I was like, when I knew my parents? When I remembered where I was from?
"Well," Euffie muttered, "thank you. I'll … I'll keep that in mind."
Marthera had placed a small pouch full of amethysts and emeralds in Euffie's sack, enough to get an engram removed without any questions, if she went to the right scriptomancer. There was also food and a water skin, but no sleeping bag.
"If we get split up, I'll meet you in Kumlaut," Marthera repeated. "We'll – "
Marthera stopped mid sentence, like a dog whose ears have perked up. She sniffed the air and turned around. Euffie's gaze followed, just as she heard the hoofbeats.
"Come on," Marthera said, pulling her forward by the arm. "I'll think of something. Just run off without me. Use your magic!"
"I can't!" Euffie protested. "I don’t know if it’ll work! My feet might get destroyed!"
"Take my boots, then," Marthera ordered, stopping in place. The horses were getting closer. Clopper and Derek were easy for Euffie to pick out without a keen sense of smell.
"That'll only get me a few mil-"
"I don't care," Marthera said, already one shoe off. "They’ll be better than your sandals. Just get out of here. Put these on this instant!"
Euffie may have had much of her past taken away from her, but the engram didn't save her from instinct.
"Yes, Mother Marthera."
She put the shoes on. They were too big for her, but not by much. It was convenient they were so easy to slide into, given that one of her arms was in a sling and couldn’t help. The horses were getting closer, less than a minute away. Two riders broke off, galloping faster than the other two. Euffie’s heart skipped several beats when she made out Derek as one of them. He and Clopper were unmistakable.
"They're trying to encircle us!" Marthera hissed. "Go, go, go! I'll take care of myself."
"But you can't heal again for – "
"I said I'll take care of myself! Move it!"
Oppzis added his agreement to the urgency. The moon shimmered at the edge of Euffie's vision, in a way only she could see. She turned westward, toward the distant forests and savannahs of Akastamsis and Kumlaut. She concentrated, mustering the magic to her command.
Before she could take off, Euffie felt something like a giant hand closing around her body. Her heart and lungs accelerated at the sensation of being touched everywhere. She felt the very air binding to her, and sticking in place. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
"Euffie!"
Marthera tried to push Euffie, but it was as if Euffie were pinned against an invisible wall. She didn't budge. Sparks of magic the same azure color as the engram on Euffie's cheek sizzled up and down her body, and a written character appeared in the sand under her feet when Marthera touched her.
Pinned, she thought with terror. I'm pinned. I'm pinned, and Derek's here, and I'm pinned, and –
Hoofbeats filled the air now. In front of Euffie, Derek and the other man, the witchbinder by the moon-shard in his hand, dismounted. Behind her, Euffie heard more men doing the same. Marthera turned to them and bore her fangs. They were surrounded.
"Vampire!" one of them cried. "Get her!"
But Derek held up a hand toward the soldiers Euffie couldn't see. "You two stop right there! Phoebe, who is this?"
“She can’t talk under that, mate,” said another voice behind her. Derek turned to Marthera.
Marthera 's eyes flicked between the two men. Her fingernails and teeth had made themselves known, but her gaze was uncertain. The scriptomancer's stare didn't move an inch from Phoebe, nor did his hands tremble. He was like a statue, caught in the same spell he had cast on her. The written character on the ground beneath her glowed up the length of his moon-shard. With effort, Phoebe could move her eyes in their sockets, but that was it.
"She's a vamp – " one of the soldiers began, before Derek cut him off.
"I know that. I'm a fogcrawler, you idiot. We get those near the Fade. I probably met my first vampire before you were born. And this vampire," he said, gesturing to Marthera, "doesn't have to be our enemy. She's vulnerable. She's healed very recently."
"Now, now … " said the same voice behind Euffie. Silver magic was beginning to mingle with the azure magic of the imprisoning engram. Oppzis told Euffie to give it everything she had. Lunomancy was stronger than engrams, but this particular engram was designed for this, like how a diamond can only be cut from a certain angle.
“No, Hadley,” Derek insisted, pointing past Euffie. “Tell your men not to hurt this woman. We won’t get anywhere if we do.”
"What's your name, ma'am?" Derek said, turning.
"Marthera," said Marthera, eyeing him suspiciously. "What's your game? You enslaved my daughter here, didn’t you?"
"Your daughter?" Derek glanced at Euffie. "Not by blood, I assume. Sorry about the circumstances. I’m sure we can work something out."
Everyone Euffie could see looked confused. Except the scriptomancer. He only seemed more focused with each passing second, like her magic was starting to put pressure on him. Every few moments, he wrote a little in the air, as if polishing the character under her feet.
"You enslaved my daughter," Marthera repeated.
"Again, my deepest apologies for the circumstances," Derek said, bowing his head slightly. "I didn't know she had anyone who cared about her, other than me. That's just how we do things where I'm from. I'm willing to compromise with you, if you'll listen."
Euffie had heard Derek apologize before. Right now, as her magic was starting to surge through her, she was having a hard time deciding who, between him and the scriptomancer, looked more like a snake.
"Ay, Derek," said Hadley. The man stepped past Euffie, and she could see that he was dressed like the scriptomancer, only with different equipment. "What are you tryin' here? Somethin' we shoulda discussed before now?"
"Let's discuss it now," Derek said simply. “We didn’t know her mother would be there.”
"What about Euffie?" Marthera said, pointing. "You're hurting her! Let her go, you thugs!"
"He's not hurting her," Hadley shook his head. "It's just an engram for keeping her still.”
“Who’s Euffie?” Derek asked Marthera.
“My daughter. Her name is Euffie.” Derek turned to Euffie.
"Are you all right, Phoebe?" he asked. She tried to correct him, but her mouth was sealed in place.
"Let her speak, Larry,” Derek said.
Nothing happened for a moment.
"Release her head from the engram," Derek said, turning on the scriptomancer. “Now.”
"Derek, the – " the bounty hunter began.
“Let her talk!” he said.
Euffie stared at him. She couldn't talk even if the scriptomancer's spell hadn't been on her. How many times had he covered her mouth before? Now, he was asking to hear her speak.
“That’s not how the engram works, mate,” Hadley said. “Either we release all of her or none of her. We’re not doing that.”
“Yes you are!” Marthera interjected. “Euffie is not going anywhere with you.”
Hadley sighed and put a hand to his forehead. He shared a look with the scriptomancer, Larry. It was a look that said, “well, shit. Just what we didn’t want to happen.”
"I'm paying you because I want her back, aren't I?" Derek rounded on him. "If you idiots kill her mother, you'll destroy her! This is why I told you not to just run her through when we saw the two of them. You’d better listen.”
“We ain’t gonna kill this lady,” Hadley said. Now he was starting to run out of patience. “Would you quit your yabbering and listen for once?”
A few stray splotches of purple mist struck the ground around them. Derek breathed out, calming himself in a way Euffie had only seen him do once or twice. Before his parents had died.
"Listen," he said slowly. "You want to bring us to Ecliptica. You want her intact for your bounty, for both clients. Right?"
Hadley, who seemed to Euffie to be in charge, said nothing. The other soldiers’ eyes passed between them nervously.
"Well," Derek went on, "I want Euffie to be happy. If I can't have that, I have nothing. Faulty product, if that makes any sense to a manhunter like you."
That line stood out to Euffie as the least dishonest thing he'd said so far. At least, it was the most sincere. It made part of her recoil. It made part of her grateful.
"So," Derek finished, "will you release her from that prison spell, Hadley? Before I beat your scriptomancer to within an inch of his life?"
Derek was standing directly beside the immobile man, who was dangerously occupied with his moon-shard and magic.
"No need to be like that," Hadley said in a tired voice. "But if she runs off, contract's over. We take your money and we go. Got it? We’re not chasing after her if you let her run off after we did our job."
Hadley extended a hand to shake in the traditional halorist fashion. Without hesitation, Derek took it. He made eye contact with Euffie one more time.
"Got it," he said.
Euffie's eyes bounced between Derek and a very bewildered Marthera. What was happening? What was Derek getting at? Didn't Euffie know him better than to let her talk at a moment like this?
He thinks killing Marthera makes me faulty product. Can’t he just erase her from my memory again? He is planning on reinstating the engram, isn’t he?
"Larry?" Hadley called. "Let her go. Everyone, watch yourselves. We know what we’re doing with speed witches.”
Euffie spun about, nearly losing her balance as the imprison engram was released. Silver magic swirled around her like sashes of light. She turned and re-oriented herself with everyone present. Oppzis said that if she wanted to run, now was the time to run. She could get most of the way to Kumlaut with Marthera's shoes.
But then I'd leave her to die, she thought. They wouldn’t have a reason to keep her. I'd have no one to translate, no one to guide me through that strange land. I'd just end up someone else's slave, and Derek would still be after me.
Euffie found herself hoping Derek found her in that hypothetical scenario. It was a strange feeling, one she'd never had before. Hopefully her subservient younger self talking again.
Mists, I was such a suckup.
Euffie breathed out, and powered down. Her magic receded back into her body. The scriptomancer was still staring at her fixedly, but his chest was rising and falling after the exertion. It was satisfying to see after the stranglehold he'd just put her in.
The moment passed. Euffie didn't run.
"Now then," Hadley started to talk. As he did, Derek gave Marthera a look that Euffie didn't see. Then he turned to her, winked, and jerked his head in the direction of Hadley, the man nearest to her.
“Would you like to come with us, ma’am?” Hadley was saying. “You’re welcome to - “
In one motion, Derek spun and drew his sword, then brought it down directly into Larry's temple. There was a flash as an engram Euffie didn't recognize was set off and cascaded down his tottering body. The sword bounced off, deflected by an engram somewhere on Larry’s person, but the impact was followed up by a punch to his face. This time, the engram didn’t activate. The scriptomancer's moonshard struck the dirt moments before he did.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
"Marthera! Phoebe! Go!" Derek shouted, bringing around his sword in time to block one of Hadley's mates. Everything moved very quickly. Marthera recovered faster than Euffie, and leapt for Hadley's mate closest to her. Before Euffie reacted, Hadley gripped her collar and yanked her toward him. His sword was raised warningly at Derek and Marthera in his other hand. Euffie squirmed against the manhunter’s chest. Everything went silver, and slowed to a crawl.
From practice dealing with Derek, Euffie's knee drove up between the merc's legs with the force of a rock crushing a snake's skull.
When everything caught up with Euffie, Hadley had fallen to the ground a few feet away, and Euffie’s knee was sore. She clutched at her arm in a sling; she’d strained it. There was a huge tear in what was left of her skirts. And Hadley’s.
When Euffie looked further along the ground, however, she saw Marthera.
Her nearly headless body lay on the ground. Beside the body of a mercenary whose throat was everywhere but beneath his chin. His sword lay in the ground beside his hand, completely clean of blood.
Eufie screamed something in a language the engram on her cheek protested. The world around her blurred. The pain of the engram went with it.
Memories flooded her mind, and the engram snapped in places it hadn't before. She saw visions and recollections of her time in Aleb under Marthera's care. The food she'd been fed, the chores she'd done, the lessons she'd learned on this stalwart woman's knee. It wasn't fair. Only when she was dead was Euffie's mind strong enough to screech through the engram's weakening grip. She was supposed to have time with Marthera, and that had been stolen from her.
Euffie fell down beside the dead orphanage keeper. She took the woman's sack of supplies out of the way, and turned the body over to be greeted by a pair of lifeless red eyes with yellow sclera. Blood that wasn't hers soaked the lower half of her face and chin. Blood that was hers poured from the missing half of her neck. Euffie buried her face in the woman's chest and sobbed.
Someone was calling out for her, but they might as well have been up in the sky with Oppzis. He wasn't getting through either. Mere hours after finding her, Marthera had been taken away again. Replaced with memories. She wanted Marthera back, not memories of her.
A few more trails of purple smoke touched down on the ground around her. One struck Marthera's shoulder, singing the clothing, but not the skin. It jostled Euffie enough that she heard Derek's voice break through the noise of her mind:
"Phoebe! I'm cut! Help me!"
Euffie wiped her eyes. The obedience within took advantage of her shocked state. She wouldn't lose anyone else today. Even if that person was Derek. Gently closing Marthera's eyes, Euffie rose to her feet.
Hands on what was left of his manhood, Hadley was still trying to come to his feet. Euffie forgot him when she saw Derek trading blows with a merc who was clearly better than him when he didn't have the element of surprise. Nicks and cuts and gashes covered Derek’s body, and when she took a step closer, the man caught and spun Derek's sword away into the dirt. Before he could bring his weapon around for one final blow, a silver-glowing Eufie slammed into him, knocking them both to the ground. She bore into him with her good arm, which didn’t break like the other one had against a wall.
Time normalized as Euffie tried to come back to her feet, but the other man recovered magnificently and backhanded her across the face. He retrieved his sword from the ground beside him, but not in time for Derek. Blood sprayed across Euffie's dazed face. With a kick to remove him from Derek's impaling blade, the man collapsed to the ground beside her.
"Phoebe? Phoebe!"
Euffie instinctively cringed when he approached, but he threw down his sword and held his hands up placatingly.
"Hey, hey," he said, in that soothing voice Euffie ... hated? "It's going to be all right. I never hurt you, remember? We're a pair. Like I always knew we were. Right?"
She halted crawling away. Oppzis had nothing to offer. This was not something he knew anything about. Moons were not designed to trust or distrust. They were not designed for the dangers and mazes of this world. None of those existed that high in the sky. Except for his reassurances, Euffie was on her own.
"Stay right there," he said, turning away. "One more loose end."
Euffie watched him run to catch Hadley, who had been making a break for the horses. Still dizzy from the hit the dead man beside her had given, she watched with bleary eyes as Derek tore Hadley back down to the ground while he tried to mount one of the animals. The horse whinnied and pulled away, leaving Hadley in Derek's death grip. Slowly, Derek pushed the man down to the ground. Euffie knew that grip well. Hadley's throat was no match. By the time Derek had lowered the mercenary to the sand, he'd stopped struggling.
She'd recovered Marthera's supply sack, but Euffie scooted back a little further when Derek rose again and turned toward her.
"Phoebe?" he called. She did not answer. Her heart was pounding so fast she could barely hear him. She couldn't move, either. She was freezing up. It was an awful feeling after the sequence of paralyzing and accelerating magic she'd just experienced. The bruises on her face and knee made themselves known. Why couldn’t she just hate him, like she always had? Why couldn’t she just wipe him out like she’d always dreamed of?
“My name isn’t Phoebe ... “ she breathed. He either ignored her or didn’t hear.
Derek spent a minute searching Hadley's saddlebags, until he found two that caught his attention after looking inside. He untied them from the horse, then whistled Clopper back. The horse, who had scurried away when the fighting broke out, cantered back to his master's side. Derek tied the saddlebags to Clopper, mounted the horse, and then started back toward Euffie. The hooves only narrowly missed Marthera's corpse. He trod over the body of the witchbinder, though. Strangely, there was no sound of crunching bones. To the side, the Fade seemed to be growing agitated, like an animal that smells something dead and edible nearby.
Euffie rose to her feet.
"Derek," she said.
"Phoebe," he answered. He smiled, eerily framed by the pink moon behind his head in the evening sky. She stood still as he walked the horse up to her, and offered a hand to hoist her up.
“My name is Euffie,” she said, louder this time. She stared at his hand. She looked up at Derek's eager face, then stared at the hand some more. Clopper leaned down and started grazing.
"Where are you going?" Euffie asked.
"We’re going wherever you want to go," Derek said. "As long as it's not Aleb or Halfway. But I figured you'd want neither of those anyway."
She didn't.
"What about your farm?" she asked. His hand was still waiting. She was very keen on his posture, and she noticed a hint of impatience entering it.
Would Marthera get impatient with me like this? she asked herself. How long would she let me stall like this?
Do as you’re told. If they’re impatient with you, that’s your problem.
"I sold it," Derek said. "I sold everything I owned except my horse and my sword, so I could find you. I love you, Phoebe. How many times do I need to say it? How much must I sacrifice? How well do I need to treat you before you realize?"
Euffie hung her head, a mix of shame and anger boiling in her mind. He'd said this before, from time to time. She'd never heard it so many times in her own head as she had since fleeing.
Whatever Euffie thought of Derek, she knew he believed himself when he said that. It was the most dangerous part of Derek there was. When he lied, he always lied to himself first.
I spared his life too, she thought. I didn't kill him when I had the chance.
Evenness doesn’t matter. Do as you’re told!
He abused me for years. I don't owe him anything.
"What about Marthera?" she asked. Her voice was firmer this time. Derek's hand was still offered, but she stopped looking at it.
Derek didn't even glance over his shoulder at the dead woman's body. "Your mother?"
Caretaker, orphanage keeper, teacher. Euffie had more evidence of that in her head now than ever before.
"Yes, my mother," she said. "Mother Marthera. What about her?"
"Well … " Derek seemed momentarily confused. "She's … gone, Euffie. Also, where did you get that ring on your finger? Did you buy it?"
Euffie remembered something. A part of her unfroze, suddenly becoming laser focused. Derek seemed to notice, and his impatience was similarly replaced with alertness.
Sensing he would be needed soon, Oppzis started fueling her with magic. He was helpful like that. Someday, probably years from now, it would get to the point where Euffie barely needed to think of a need for magic before she got it.
Derek has a horse, she thought. Where would I run? How far could I dash?
Oppzis told her she could just kill him. She considered the idea, not for the first time. There was a reason her room was locked at night, even if she had a tether to stop her running away. But with the engram open, and since running away from him, and after failing to kill him several times, there was a frustrating barrier in her head to taking the bastard’s life.
"Mother Marthera?" she repeated instead. "We ought to at least bury her."
"Well, I … look, Euffie, we need to move on. You saw her body. She's a vampire. Burying them is bad luck. That’s how they come about in the first place, after all. You know we don’t bury people this close to the Fade. I didn’t even bury my parents.”
I did see her body, Euffie thought. Everything was starting to make sense now, despite her older memories’ best efforts.
Oppzis told her there was only one direction she could run fast enough to get away from Derek. Only one direction in which she could build up enough momentum before the horse caught up to her. Only one way she could do that while also evading the increasingly restless Fade. Blood had been spilled here, and with her magic going off, it would certainly notice and encroach on this area. The spell would cost an absurd amount of magic, and would mutilate her horribly, especially with her existing broken arm and bruised knee, but she would be so far away by the end that Derek would never find her.
Accepting it before she thought about it too much, Euffie met Derek's gaze.
"How did Mother Marthera die?" she asked.
"The man beside her cut her neck open," he said. "I saw while you were grappling with Hadley."
Euffie hung her head. Silver magic curled up from her toes.
"That man's sword was clean," she said.
Derek sighed, and finally retracted his hand. He was strong enough to lift her up onto that horse, she knew. He'd done it many times before.
He looked ready to do it again.
"Phoebe," he said, "you're getting confused again."
With her knee protesting, Euffie took a few steps back. Derek knew he had tipped his hand. Things were about to move very quickly, but at least now they made sense again.
"I've never been less confused in my life," she said. Her eyes started to glow as she walked backward, toward the roar of the Fade. It was only a mile behind her, not far at all. Purple smoke struck the ground around them both. The mercenaries' horses shied away from it, leaving their masters' bodies to rot, but Clopper was a fogcrawler animal. He strode toward Euffie when his master turned him, Fade or not.
Euffie the witchbinder's body had disappeared. That couldn't be good. Not like she was going to warn Derek, though.
"Phoebe," he repeated. "Stop it. Come with me. I have enough money to buy us a home anywhere else in Barrid! What future do you have without me?"
"Will you take my engram off?" she demanded, backing toward the Fade as he advanced. "Will you?"
"I've already told you, I'll take it off when you're ready!" he said.
"I was ready before you bought me!" she retorted.
Derek tugged and made Clopper stop. "That's not what you said at the time."
Euffie hesitated. "What?"
"When I found you in the market," Derek explained, "you were begging whoever bought you to repair your engram. Your master couldn’t afford to keep it maintained. You said you could still see things from your childhood. You didn't want to anymore. You sold yourself into slavery."
Euffie went to protest, but she was interrupted. By the engram. It was blocking the memories Derek was referencing.
It had never done that when talking about the day he purchased her, until now.
"No," she gasped, pulling her hand away. "I was someone! I was Euffie! I used to have hair. I didn't used to have all these callouses and scars. I wasn't Phoebe. I wasn't yours. I wasn't anyone's!"
"That's certainly true," Derek said, moving forward again. "You belonged to no one. You needed me, and I have been here for you for years. But you never listen. You want to go back to the gibbering wreck you were before the engram took away your childhood?"
Euffie kept stepping backward, trying and succeeding not to limp. The Fade was still some distance away, but she felt more charged with power than she ever had before.
Euffie could see someone striding behind her master, a moon-shard held tightly in one hand. If Derek didn't get her, Larry would. If she were going to escape, there was only one direction she could run.
Euffie saw a bolas in Derek’s hand not holding the reins. She nearly tripped over a rock, but steadied herself in time. More searing mist landed around them. More than usual. Some of it hit her arm, and Clopper's rump, but both of them shrugged it off with a flinch.
"The Prisnidines have a saying, Phoebe," Derek said. He dismounted as he spoke, untying the bolas. She knew how good he was at throwing it. He was too focused on her to notice the glances she kept shooting over his shoulder.
Larry’s waiting for one of us to go down first, Euffie thought. Or for me to call him out.
"They say that a person," Derek continued, "is just the sum of their memories. Believe me, for once in your life, when I tell you that Phoebe was a lot worse off with the sum of her childhood. You are better now, stronger, more lovely than you were with all that weight."
Euffie wouldn't have believed him, had the engram held true. She wouldn't have seen the glimpses she had, and remembered them after waking up. She was always relieved to get out of memories the engram had to offer, at least the ones not involving Marthera.
"I … I -"
"When you are ready," Derek repeated, "I will happily have that engram removed. But you are not ready, and you know it. You're not ready for who Phoebe was, and what she carried. The nightmares she sold herself into slavery to get rid of. You are not even ready to have them erased completely."
"Agh!" she clutched at the engram, barely staying upright as she backed away. Silver magic was everywhere, now. She'd never seen so much of it at once. It was such a swell, like the feeling of drinking too much milk at once. She felt heavy with the stuff.
Oppzis reminded Euffie to be ready. When he sent the signal, she needed to turn toward the Fade, and run faster than she ever had before.
What –
Oppzis repeated his plea for her to trust him, no matter what. He was trying to get her out of there.
But the Fade will kill me!
Oppzis reminded her of the lack of burn marks on her arms. She was a lunomancer. She had Oppzis. She would be fine if she didn't stop running until he said to. Besides, she’d already accepted the idea when he first pitched it moments ago. Now was not the time to back out.
Derek was close enough now that there was no way he'd miss with that bolas. He wouldn't even need to throw it. Behind him, Larry had the same paralysis engram loaded like a rock in a sling on his moon-shard. Time slowed down.
Then, at Oppzis's command, Euffie turned and ran.
Her knee roared in agony, slowing her down at a critical moment. The all-too-familiar weight of Derek's body crashed into her back. He pressed her into himself, arms wrapped tightly around her. His breath reeked of nadderfruit. She thrashed and struggled and screamed. She tried to release everything pent-up over that horrible conversation, everything she felt at the sight of Marthera’s corpse.
"Get away from me!" she screamed. She threw herself as hard as she could with each shout. "Get away from me, you pig!”
She readied for another dash, but Oppzis warned her that if she did it now, she'd probably kill Derek.
Good, she snapped.
Derek tried to hit her, and then everything went silver.
Magic coursed along Euffie's legs and arms. Time seemed to slow down, like it always did before she cast this spell. Her eyes glowed, her heart and lungs raced, her feet planted.
Derek's arms were wrapped around her from behind, and his palm was descending toward her head. Before it could land, the spell was properly cast.
There was a scream. Not a yell, like Euffie was used to hearing from Derek, nor a groan. A real, piercing shriek of agony. There was the sound of flesh tearing and bones breaking, not like a table that's been smashed by a heavy hit, but like it's been pulled too hard in different directions. Euffie saw blood spray to her sides for a fraction of a second, before everything blurred and gave way to a deep, hot, purple mist.
Feet pounding. Toxic air whistling. Oppzis told her to hold her breath. She did, even though her lungs howled in agony. The ground blurred below her racing feet. Keep running. The one thing she had to do. Not just one foot in front of the other, but hundreds of feet in front of hundreds. The singular form of "step" was rendered obsolete in Euffie's new world of flattened, withered soil and violet fog.
After several seconds, the purple mist thinned. The air cooled down. Euffie could see for miles and miles in every direction. Oppzis said she could breathe now, and she did so greedily, like shoveling coal into the furnace of her legs. She was running so fast it was as if the world had sped up its rotation instead. The world of the Fade was unnaturally flat. She saw the moldering remains of cities in the distance. Rains of fire and stone and blood fell from the sky in patches. She was barely grazed by any of them in her haste. Mountains with their tops worn down stretched in the north and the south; she saw now that she had run right between several obstacles that would have killed her on impact.
Oppzis, whoever that was, told her to focus straight ahead. Phoebe – was that her name? – already veered dangerously to the right just by looking. And keep moving those feet. She could breathe until she re-entered the misty opposite border of the Fade. The feeling quickly added not to look down either, or she'd see her legs. That sight might stop her in place. She was halfway there, she just had to trust the voice and keep moving.
Miles vanished behind her. Minutes passed. The girl's legs moved so quickly she could barely feel anything below her hips. She was nearly there. She just needed to keep running. It was like the Thirsting Wastes; if she stopped now, she'd die. Moments later, she forgot what the Thirsting Wastes even were.
Finally, the running girl re-entered the mist at the opposite border. She held her breath, which was a lot harder this time now that she'd been running for several minutes. Her lungs did more than protest; they marched on the capital of her throat and demanded access. She couldn't hold them off for much longer, especially not with her legs about to secede right beneath her. She couldn't feel her boots. She couldn’t feel her feet. She couldn’t feel her shins or knees. But she could definitely feel the bases of her thighs.
Then, the heat of the mists was behind her, and the girl re-entered the real world, a world with slopes and hills and yellowing grass. It looked very different from … wherever she'd come from, but –
Someone commanded her to stop right now or she would hit something. The girl obeyed, turning off the magic faster than she ever had before. So much faster that her legs didn't have time to adjust. She spun out like a cart, crashing hard into the dirt and brush, bouncing a few times before finally skidding to a stop in a pile of broken bones, ruined clothing, and smeared blood.
The edges of the girl's vision were thinning. She felt suddenly alone. There was supposed to be a voice, a friend. The one who told her to stop running. Groaning, she turned her head in the direction she'd just come from, and saw a great wall of purple gas looming over the world.
What the hell is that? It looks … horribly … hot …
Is that the ground? Is that the sky? What happened to them? Why can’t I tell them apart?
I can’t even tell my fingers apart anymore ... is that what the bones inside a hand are supposed to look like?
She raised a mangled hand to her cheek. Blood was sprayed over her face, but for some reason, she knew it wasn’t her own. Her other arm was broken, even more than before she got here. A burning sensation was starting to break through the shock across her entire body, and it was coming from her face. As she did, the girl noticed a ring on her finger. It was a pretty thing with a blue stone in it, but she had no idea what it was for. She couldn't even remember her name. Whatever it was, she just knew it wasn't Phoebe.
There was the distant noise of a song being butchered on a harpsichord.
At that sound , the thing on her cheek sizzled. She groaned. Her head sank into her less broken arm, and she curled up like an animal run over by a wheelbarrow in the street. Consciousness was running away from her, no matter how she tried to hold on. The more she thought about the burn on her face, the harder it became to think about anything else. The blackness at the edges of her vision closed in. Before her eyelids got too heavy to keep open, the girl caught one last glimpse of the ring on her finger.
The blue stone was glowing.