Disclaimer: This is based on the work of Tamora Pierce. If you recognize it, it's hers.
A/N:
Alanna Cooper: You know me. I can't stop writing. My muses have possessed me.
Purple Eyed Cat: Yep, skinners. Thank you for the kind compliments.
1reallyblue1: Writing this chapter made me shudder. Those skinner things were truly terrifying. I wonder what nightmare TP pulled them out of.
Hoshi-ko88: I hope you see a little more difference here. There is still a lot of the same stuff, but it's filled with thoughts and a belief that he would die.
Blackandwhiteroses: At the end of this chapter they have been pulled in.
Confusedknight: My muses have possessed me. I can't stop. I can't sleep properly. I dream the stories. Then I type like a maniac. Thanks for all the kind compliments.
Narms Briton 44: Yep a long way. But, this gets us into the realms of the gods, so its all divine from here.
Goldeneyedwildmage: I'm glad you liked the fleeing sanity. When I read the Alanna books I was a little mystified that she couldn't see that only George loved all of her the way she was. But then I've had friends like that – they go from man to man, never quite seeing the one that got away.
Lady Araceli: Thanks. More spins here.
Sarramaks: I think you are the only one who really noticed the hairbrush thing. But it was part of his state of mind anyway.
Kit49: Thanks for the heads up on the error. I fixed it right away. And thank you for the compliments.
Nativewildmage: Thanks so much.
Chapter 3 - Skinners
The left Legann separately, Daine in eagle form and Numair riding his gelding Spots and carrying both packs. He was using his gift to magically conceal himself. He could have hidden Daine as well, but she was probably safer this way and she could certainly see farther. Still he missed her company on the ride. It was hard. He wasn't the best rider in the world for sure, although he was getting better since Daine had been giving him lessons. But he was very tired and had the incredible urge to doze.
He kept repeating everything he had read on creatures that killed with a touch aloud as if he were trying to instruct Spots. When he grew weary of that he thought about shifting and flying up to meet Daine. That would be a terrible waste of power and it would leave Spots vulnerable. Daine would never forgive him.
And soon he allowed his thoughts to wander through the one thing guaranteed to keep him from sleeping – should he tell Daine how he felt? He had certainly been given enough advice to that order. All three of the people who knew his secret had encouraged this. But he didn't want to coerce her and he kept thinking about that spring morning. He had awaken from the powerfully sharp pain of having his heart restarted and looked up to see Duke Baird hanging over him, sweat dripping from the effort. Lindhall and Alanna were close enough for him to see too. He had looked up into their faces and heard them laugh with relief. And then he searched for Daine. She was not there and he had not seen her go. He never saw her at all once he had come from his soil prison. It was a fact that had crushed him completely.
It was right that Daine should want someone her own age and someone less absorbed in magical education. He knew all the worst things about himself and was loathe to inflict them on her when he really considered the possibility. He also could not forget the pain his reputation had already caused her through a beau named Perin who wanted nothing more than to lie with her. When she had refused Perin, he had grown violent and cruel and told her she was clearly a harlot, a perception he had drawn from Daine's association with Numair. And though Numair knew in his heart that he would eagerly marry her if she fell in love, it would not clear the tarnish from his name and she would suffer it by association. In the end, he decided he dared not speak, as always.
It had been easier before he was aware of his feelings. He could remember searching for some truth about his behavior toward her before the time he became aware that it was love. But while it dogged him, it did not haunt him like the knowledge of his affections had. Six long months he had struggled with this secret and he did not know how much longer he could last. But he knew there were worse things than the possibility that she might be coerced. What if she laughed outright? He had never worried about rejection before, but this time he had hidden his feelings for so long that he had become fragile. And their friendship meant so much that he could not bear the thought of losing it. Sadly, people didn't die of broken hearts, they just bled sorrow until nothing of them remained worth noting. Death was surely preferable to being an empty, emotionless shell. He had been given the option by the Goddess to die back in October. She warned him that there would be much pain if he returned to his life. Somehow he had overlooked that when the offer was made. He wanted nothing more than to see Daine again and so he chose life without reservation so that he could follow her like one of the lost puppies she had adopted in Corus. No, that was a bad analogy – a puppy could show affection without anyone thinking him a letch. It might be better to think himself a baby skunk following her around, and getting stuffed out of site repeatedly so the servants would not kill it.
"Time to stop feeling sorry for myself," he said aloud to Spots. The mental argument and black thoughts had served their purpose. He was nearly there and still awake. He looked around for Daine, the eagle, and then unlatched his invisible bracelet. It was a cloaked locket with a portrait of her beautiful face inside and one chestnut curl tucked behind a gold clip in the other side. He stared at the miniature of her features for a long moment, wishing he could be ten years younger and an unknown to the ladies of the court. Then he could be a swain who might ask her to festivals and kiss her on a public terrace. He could also propose to her and build a respectable life with her at his side. Wishes like that served no purpose however. In ritual fashion he whispered to the portrait, "I love you and you're still breaking my heart," and he connected the bracelet back to the chain, making it disappear.
He rode into the area Ulmer's mind had described, only it looked nothing at all like that anymore. The grass and trees were dead and actually appeared as if they had been that way for months or even years. He could see what had clearly been an alfalfa field. Small stacks of scythed hay littered the edges. It was as dry and dead as if it had been there for years except it lacked the smell of natural decay. He was reminded horribly of the word of power that Cearl de Romondo had tried to use in December, pulling the moisture from the living things around. But this was much, much worse. Looking at his surroundings with his magic, the natural magic that he should have seen in everything – the emerald threads of life in the grasses and weeds, the sapphire glow of moisture in the air, even the bronze mist that accompanied the organic breakdown of natural compost – it was all gone. It was as if light had been taken from the world in this area. It was nothing more than a dead zone.
Numair threw off his cloaking spell and immediately heard the call of an eagle in the dead trees above him. He watched as Daine descended to grasp her pack in her talons and carry it behind a tree. She was dressed in less than a minute. "It's horrible," she said as he dismounted. "I saw them touch a hare. Patches of its fur appeared on them temporarily. The poor thing was skinned that fast. It could barely cry out." He could see the pain of it on her face and without thinking, he reached for her hands, gripping them tightly. Then he realized he had already had today's touch and he let go regretfully. "I searched them with my magic and nearly fell out of the sky. It was as if they ripped a hole in it." Daine unsaddled Spots and sent the gelding into the still living woods while Numair unpacked her crossbow and hid their packs beneath a tree. He tried to think what might have that effect on her magic. The worst she had encountered thus far had been the antimere magic spanning a chasm in the forest by Corus. But for her it had merely made her queasy. The effect she described was similar to what he felt when he tried to touch antimere magic. He was horrified to think that these creatures might be worse than what they had faced in the spring. It had taken him a month to find a solution. Now he had an hour at best.
"Can we beat them?" he asked her, passing her the crossbow and quiver and dreading the answer.
Her eyes met his and there was obvious fear in them. "I don't know. I've never seen the like of these things." Daine was not a fearful person by nature. If anything she was optimistic. A sense of foreboding settled on Numair.
He took his cloak off and covered their packs with it. His magic gathered around him as he prepared for a hard fight. "Give me that quarrel," he directed, holding out his hand for the bolt she had been about to load. She passed it promptly. He spelled it to make it like a magical explosive pack. It would not detonate until he set it off.
He looked to the peach orchard that the Skinners had moved into. Everything was dead. No light illuminated any piece in his magical vision. It was so unnatural. Nothing should be capable of this. He wondered what monstrous event could have created such an abomination and why the Goddess would allow it to continue to eat the creations of her own hand and not return them to the natural cycle. If he ever saw her again, he planned to ask.
He thought about the bounty of this land that was being destroyed and what it had been intended for. These peaches, the alfalfa hay, the apple trees and lettuce fields were all food for people or livestock who now suffer when winter came. These produce rich lands provided much of the winter supplies for the northern parts of the realm. As they traveled over the last few months, Numair and Daine had seen the consequences of war in impoverished families who had lost fathers, brothers, and in some cases sisters and mothers to the attackers.
The description Daine had given him of how they killed left him feeling nauseated. It would be a very unpleasant way to go and unless they found a way to fight them successfully, it might be his fate. "Is it all like this?" he asked, dreading the answer.
"Worse," she answered. "There's acres of it, clean back to the hills." She lifted the crossbow he had given her at midwinter and took deliberate aim. The skinners turned and looked at them with horrifyingly blank countenances. They did not appear to have eyes, nostrils, mouths, or ears of any kind. They looked like five flesh colored blobs with legs and arms and still they seemed to have an awareness of obstacles in their surroundings.
Daine shot as straight and true as always, burying the crossbow bolt in the head of one of the skinners. Numair drew the rune that would detonate his spell and the thing exploded, showering its companions with bits of itself. But before either Daine or Numair could really celebrate, the chunks began to gather and reform. Now there were ten skinners -- five larger ones and five smaller. They no longer seemed willing to ignore Numair and Daine and charged them.
Numair collected the monsters in a magical net, pulling them into the air. He couldn't maintain the magical grip though. They broke through and crashed back to the ground, advancing again.
"I hope the owner of this orchard forgives me," Numair voiced aloud. He murmured the old Thak words that he had used in battles many times. The ground tore and split open, creating a crevasse that dropped beneath the advancing skinners and they fell in.
Numair raced to the edge to look, glancing once over his shoulder. Daine was right behind him. "If I can seal them into the earth, that may be the end of it. I certainly hope so." The pair stopped at the edge of the fissure and peered in. "I hate just blasting them with raw power like this. There is always a spell to uncreate anything, although the consequences may be – oh, dear."
The skinners were climbing the signs. He grabbed Daine and pulled her back to safety and then shouted the word to close the crevasse. It drew power from him painfully and echoed violently in his head. If they survived, he would be wiped out. The earth rumbled, knocking them down; and the crack sealed.
They both peeled themselves off the ground, Numair praying in a whisper, "Please Goddess, please Mithros, let that stop them. Grant a boon on Midsummer's Day—" Daine helped him stand and he swayed from the power drain.
Suddenly Daine whirled. "Numair!" she cried and shot the head of an emerging skinner with her crossbow. The unmagicked bolt had no effect. The creature rose from the ground as if it had climbed a stair.
Numair used another Old Thak spell to turn the thing into water. He whirled to do the same to another skinner. Half out of the earth, it dissolved.
Five spots near them exploded as skinners leaped free of the ground. Daine screamed. This was it, he couldn't get out. He didn't have the power to fly free, but she did. In a fraction of a second his mind replayed Jon's final words, "Don't die." Jon had said that so many times he had lost count, but this time there would be no avoiding death. Numair reached to pull Daine to him, intending to convince her to flee even if he had to beg, but two pairs of hands clutched the girl by the arms, dragging her into a patch of air that burned silvery white.
He didn't know what had Daine but if she didn't shift soon she would die too. "No!" he shouted and wrapped both arms around her, fighting the phantom hands. Some part of him recognized the light surrounding them from somewhere – was this a divine force? But he was too frightened to let go and it all happened so quickly. He clutched tightly to the woman he loved in one last, desperate embrace as they were pulled into the brilliant light and excruciating pain.
Behind him he heard a familiar voice, one that grated on his soul, "Curse you, follow them! Follow, follow, FOLLOW!"
Unseen by Numair or Daine, an inky shadow leaped free of the grass to wrap itself around Daine's feet. Mage, Magelet and shadow vanished into bright air.