Hell couldn't possibly be any worse than this. Wrists clamped manacle-tight behind his back. Shackled by the neck to an iron ring in the concrete. A dark streak smeared down the center walk that ran past his stall, marking the trail of the last victim dragged through the stables.
The unbearable sound of Chloe whimpering.
He should have known their period of freedom was just that; a period. A short span of time meant to provide enough hope to crush them completely. Or, more accurately, crush him. Chloe didn't remember a thing, he'd seen to that himself.
But was that worse? Now she had no idea why she was where she was. Had the Shiker chained her like this too? He couldn't be harvesting this soon, she hadn't healed enough from the last time!
It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. He lay on his side, staring across at the opposing stall. It was a luxurious space, padded with white velvet. The feed bin brimmed with forest moss and meadow grass gathered by the children. A nearby trough held clear brookwater. Two great beasts lay on lush pillows the size of mattresses, legs neatly folded beneath them. 23 and 22 hands high at the withers. Heads the size of barstools. Tails like whips, strong and thick. Hooves like anvils.
"And there you sit," Duet sneered, "Milky white clods with nothing to move you. Why don't you save her?" He strained forward, the shackle cutting into his neck. "Do something! Get up!"
One dipped its bandaged head to the feed trough, chewing mindlessly. Anger rolled through his body. He rolled up to his knees, straining forward. The words of a chant filled his mouth, coiled on the tip of his tongue. He could move them. He could call them to their feet and send them pounding down the hall. He could make them tear this place to bits.
The burning in his chest shuddered, flickering, and he swallowed the words. And then what? If that failed and he spent the last of their lives, then who would save her? He had already lost three…
He slumped back to the concrete, drawing his knees to his chest. There was no escape, only temporary relief from despair, and that time was done.
"Welcome back."
Duet lay still as a pair of worn tennis shoes scuffled into view. He didn't want to see the face. The face was always different, depending on what wretch the Shiker claimed as his newest puppet, but the monster never changed.
"Enjoy your little lunge?" He chuckled. "Perhaps I'll let you out on the lead line again in a few years. This venture has proved useful. If I'd known immortal threads wind themselves together, I'd have sent you out sooner. You have my gratitude, the kitsune is on his way." The sneakers followed the dark smear out of sight. "I'll make sure to have the children add flowers to the feed troughs as a reward for all your hard work."
Duet's fingernails drove into his palms, blood pounding in his ears. If the gods could see them now, nothing in a ten mile radius would be left alive. The land would be scorched and salted barren. But he'd had no leads on paths back to the other realm, and no kitsune would help. Not with the soul of a pack member or littermate locked to his neck.
It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Chloe was crying from some stall out of sight. Was her stall as comfortable as the one across from him? He hoped, at least, for that much. If the monster would harvest from her, the least he could do was-
"Duet…"
Oh gods. She was calling for him, and he couldn't go to her.
"Duet… I can't find my legs… Duet where are my legs?"
He clamped his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes stinging.
Her voice pitched high with panic. "What happened to my legs? Duet! Where are you?"
Sneakers scuffled back up the hall, and Duet lunged against the chain, rattling it as he thrashed at the very end. The new puppet had a long, white labcoat and slicked-back gray hair. He flashed a wry grin at Duet, running his tongue along his teeth as he passed. "Save your strength. Don't want to leave two more corpses and an orphaned foal, now, do you?"
He passed out of sight, and a few seconds later Chloe began to scream.
No. Hell could not be worse than this.
….
Arthur nearly tore the handle off the van climbing back inside. Mystery was leaning against the opposing passenger door with Vivi propped up against him. His hands rested lightly over the burns on her arms, and he whispered in her ear. White puffs of breath escaped his mouth as he chanted, and Arthur realized the van temperature had dropped. He snapped his fingers at Mystery, drawing his attention.
How is she? I have questions! I need her answer!
"I'm doing what I can, but I'm no healer," Mystery muttered. "All I can do is ease the pain some and lower the temperature. And the first with painkillers."
"Remind me to restock the kit," Vivi murmured.
Arthur scooted in, signing in front of her face. Where are you driving us?
Vivi gestured vaguely for the front, and Arthur plucked her phone from its holder, studying the map.
His stomach skittered up toward his throat and his fingers fixed vise-like on the phone.
"Arthur, you stopped breathing." Mystery eyed him with concern.
He was vaguely aware of his mouth opening and closing over and over. The map vanished as the screen went dark, replaced by a little green call icon and the words "Blocked Number."
Vivi muttered under her breath, grabbing the phone. "Leggo, Squire." She wiggled it free of his grip, leaving him staring at frozen fingers. "What? Calling me? Hello, this is Vivi."
Arthur's head jerked up at the sound of a frightened sob. Someone was blubbering on the other end of the phone. Whoever it was, Vivi's face had drained of color.
"What's going on? Who has you?" she demanded. The blubbering escalated to a garbled wail of words Arthur couldn't make out, before abruptly cutting off.
Vivi brought the phone down from her ear to stare at it. "This number… this is… she…" She pushed a few buttons. "She's the one."
Arthur tapped her knee, screwing up his face in confusion.
"Chloe! She's the one that's been tipping me off! This is the blocked number!" Vivi clutched the phone like it was a lifeline. "She's been tipping me off about Tome Tomb, telling me to check them out, she's been asking for help and I…" Lurching for the front seat, she flopped into it, fumbling for the buckle.
Arthur grabbed the seatbelt, yanking it hard and releasing it. She wasn't driving one more mile, not if he could help it. He reached for the keys.
She scratched his hand, growling, "If you're gonna be in my way, get outta the van!"
You're not- Arthur grunted as she turned away from him, twisting the key in the ignition. She wasn't looking at him! He grabbed at the keys again. Vivi twisted around, biting his arm. He yanked it back with a yelp.
"Arthur, you weren't planning to go there?" Now Lewis was crowding in. "You didn't know?"
He shook his head hard.
"Do you have a plan?"
Not for this! Arthur signed emphatically. We were tracking Duet to a city, not the cave!
The van sputtered, revving uncertainly to life. "I have a plan," Vivi muttered. "We're getting Choe and getting clear. That's the plan. No more detours."
Lewis reached for the keys. "Not today."
"Redire ad sepulchrum adductum mortuum hominem!" Vivi hissed.
A loud crack echoed in the van, and Lewis doubled over, his outline guttering like a candle in a draft.
Arthur grabbed at him. No! His hands passed through Lewis as he faded, a small lump of metal thumping to the ground. Vivi snatched it, hurling it out the van window. "And don't come back!"
He didn't think. He dove out of the van, tearing around the back end and off to the side of the road. He could hear the van peeling out behind him, but he didn't turn around.
No! I just found you! He dove into the brush at the side of the road, yanking back thorny vines and squinting in the dark. Fishing his phone out, he clicked on the flashlight feature, scanning the ground all around his feet.
Not now. There's a shot. You were listening for a minute. You're still there, there's still some of the Lewis I knew that's left. He raked through the dirt with his fingers, watching for any reflective glint. I'll have your back. I don't care if you don't believe me. I'll fix it. I'll make it better. I won't get angry, I swear. His fingers were shaking. It'll be different! We can take this sucker down as a team as long as I… I just have to… He swiped at his face. Keep it together…
A soft chirp drew his attention a few feet up. A little pink blob eyed him warily, curled around something that glinted in the flashlight's glare. He sprinted for it, the Deadbeat vanishing with an undignified squawk as Arthur scooped up the piece of metal.
He knew this. The locket. Lewis had saved for months to get this for Vivi when they started dating. He'd given it to Vivi the day he asked her to be his girlfriend.
Arthur choked out a laugh. Of course this is your anchor, you big old softie.
His laugh slid into a sob as he hunched over the locket. I didn't even get to go to your funeral.
Two cracks fractured the front cover of the locket. Arthur ran a thumb over them, carefully. He could fix it if he had his soldering guns. It was silver, not that hard to repair, but he was hours from his workshop and Vivi-
Vivi was speeding straight to the cave. The cave with Lewis' compound in it. She was going to run facefirst into the Shiker with no plan.
With Kay in the back!
Arthur sprang to his feet, shoving the locket into his vest pocket. He switched on Maps and tapped in the last location he ever wanted to visit again. It was only a couple miles down the road. Vivi might be low on gas, but she probably had enough to make it there, if Mystery hadn't stopped her already. If he hadn't, Arthur had to get there fast.
Wake up fast, Lew. I don't have a plan, and Vivi doesn't know what she's headed for!