Sunday, September 28. Grove. Wet.

The sun slipped below the trees and shadows deepened. The night songs began again. Lusa sat with the anchor, so still I sometimes wondered if she'd fallen asleep.

And me? I rubbed a paste of ash and yarrow into the bare wood of my…staff.

I tried to ignore the tension in my shoulders, the sense of waiting for trouble.

Any second now the shadow villain would show up to gloat. Or threaten.

Probably both.

Darkness truly fell. 

The rain had turned to mist. It felt like I was sitting in a wet cloud. Everything—my clothes, my staff, me—was soaked.

Still no corrupted.

Something tickled the edge of my awareness. I’d felt it before.

But what?

It grew stronger.

Closer.

I remembered what just as two sets of toxic green eyes stepped into view.

Our guards were back.

The nightmare cats bowed to Lusa, a graceful bob of their heads, then sat some distance apart from each other. Lusa ignored them and handed me the stone.

I set my staff aside. Soon warm currents of energy pooled beneath my skin—stronger than last night. The warmth was welcome, washing awake the chill from the rain. 

Lusa walked the circle, laying down more salt, then ducked into the tent, which we’d relocated next to the anchor.

A rustle of fabric.

I kept an eye on the shadow kitties and reached over, zipping the tent close.

That warmth brushed the bond.

Amusement, I decided.

I pretended I hadn’t noticed.

She opened the flap and set her wet clothes outside.

“I have to leave in the morning for work,” I murmured.

She nodded and lay down. Within moments her even breathing told me she was asleep. 

Unease settled in my stomach.

Lusa had said she couldn't leave now that the ritual was underway. I'd have to leave stupid early to have time to run by the apartment to shower and grab fresh clothes…and another day or two worth of food.

She would be fine, I told myself. The hollows had only shown up at night, and hadn’t been able to break the circle.

I’d be back before they returned.

She’d be fine.

It wasn’t like I could work out here for a week. Cell was okay, but power would be a problem and Caldwell would throw a fit if I took any more out of the office time.

More of that quiet energy gathered beneath my skin. 

I felt alive. Awake as if I’d had a full night’s rest. 

But this was just a blip in my normal life. It wasn’t meant for someone like me.

The hollows didn’t play their games tonight. Just sat and stared.

Had they taken their measure of me?

Had I been found wanting?

Did it matter?

Soon enough she'd be anchored.

She wouldn't need me.

She'd find a proper warden.

I may not have been good for much, but I could at least let her sleep tonight.

I didn’t wake her until a little after five. 

She sat up, looked at the sky with its single stubborn star peeking through the clouds, then back at me, a question in her eyes. 

“Eat,” I said. “I’ll pull the cooler over so you can reach it while I’m gone.”

When she was done, I turned the stone over to her and fixed us both coffee, then grabbed my backpack and loaded it with our wet clothing.

“Nathaniel.”

I stopped and turned.

“Do not forget your staff. Do not be without it.” 

I sighed and picked it up. Grabbed my backpack, knife, and the ash paste. Maybe I'd work on the staff during lunch.

Checked on the shadow kitties. Still there.

I turned my flashlight on low. Pushed through the gentle resistance of the ward, then headed for the car.

I felt one rise and follow.

The hair on my neck prickled as it kept pace. Never close enough to be threatening just…keeping an eye on me. 

All the way back to my car.

I started breathing easier when I reached the parking lot. 

The hollow didn’t leave the woods. Just sat, watching as I got in and drove away.

I made it to work on time. Somehow. 

Left the blasted staff in the car. My arms were full with the food I was taking back to the campsite after work, I didn’t have a free hand to drag the staff with me—and it wouldn’t fit in my tiny cubicle anyway.

That’s what I told myself.

The shadows of the parking garage seemed to waver as I walked, always at the edges of my vision. I chalked it up to my nerves still being frayed from being stalked by a hollow this morning. Anyone would be on edge from that, right?

Work sucked. Not because it was different, but because every minute at my desk felt like I was wasting time I should spend doing something...else, though I wasn't sure what.

At lunch I slipped out to the parking garage, rooted around in my car for something to protect my clothes from the ash paste, then got to work carving the sigils deeper into the wood.

It was slow going. I kept glancing to the side, distracted by flickers of movement. But I was able to finish the earth sigils once more, scoring them deeper into the staff. I stowed it and my knife in the car, swearing to myself that if I ever did another carving project, I would get some proper tools.

I headed back. When I reached the office door— 

Something moved in the deep shadow beside the waste bins. 

It writhed.

Oily.

Wrong.

Recognition hit a heartbeat later.

Miasma.

But this—had a more defined shape than any I had seen. Rather than looking like thick mist, this was ink black, an oily sheen swirling over the surface. It stretched and moved—reaching, searching.

My skin prickled. For a split second, that same warm current I’d felt in the grove surged through me.

It was gone before I could blink.

What was that? A reaction to the miasma?

An unnerving thought hit me—had these things always been here and I just now noticed?

Another unwelcome thought on its heels, twisting my stomach. 

Even once Lusa found a real warden…

Could I go back to being normal? 

Or would there always be hints of this hidden world around me?

I shook my head. Not helpful. Not if I wanted to survive the day—or get back to Lusa before dark. 

I yanked open the door to the office. 

The smell of food punched me in the face like a tidal wave. I stopped inside the door and took several calming shallow breaths through my mouth, trying to tune out the scents. 

It hadn’t been this bad since last Monday. 

Why now?

I rinsed my dishes on autopilot and made it back to my cubicle, trying to ignore the office around me.

Get done, clock out on time, get back to Lusa before dark.

Of course work had other ideas.

Caldwell came by an hour before the official end of the day.

“Since you have MacMarster so well in hand, you can take over TriCore.”

She slapped a folder on my desk. I did not groan. That alone deserved a medal.

TriCore Materials was another mess. If Caldwell was giving it to me, either I was on her shitlist, or worse, she’d truly been impressed with MacMarster and I would be seeing more of the company’s problem children.

“I need them caught up through second quarter by next week.” She paused as if waiting for me to argue. 

I kept my mouth closed. I couldn’t even manage a polite yes ma’am. So I took the folder and scanned the inner briefing for account status.

It was an absolute mess. MacMarster looked like a walk in the park compared to this jumble. And I had to get the asset reconciliations for both Griffin and Everline Distribution in today before I left.

“You got a problem, Halberg?” Caldwell had her arms crossed, as if daring me to fight.

“No problem,” I managed.

She lingered a moment longer, then left. I waited until she disappeared around the corner.

"Fu—" I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Fantastic."

“Nate.”

I looked up. My team lead leaned against the cubicle wall. John polished his glasses. “Good work with MacMarster. Sorry, meant to warn you about TriCore. She was impressed with your progress. We’ll be reshuffling again. Marcus will take Griffin. You can transfer it tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. After I’d finished all the pressing work on the account.

“I’ll get with him in the morning,” I said.

John stuck his glasses back on and leaned in close, voice low. “Keep it up. I expect to see you team lead soon.”

Great. A carrot on a stick. 

At the rate my life was unraveling, I wasn't even sure I'd make it to next week. 

By the time I left the office, the sun was low on the horizon. 

Darkness crept across the trees to either side of the road. The deeper the shadows grew, the heavier they seemed to press. My tattoo answered, a steady pull that grew stronger with every passing mile. By the time I parked at the trailhead, ignoring it had become impossible. 

I was exhausted. 

Whatever energy had fueled me to keep watch all night and still make it through today was long gone.

The memory of the hollow keeping pace with me this morning came rushing back.

What if it had simply...waited?

I shoved that down. Hard.

I slung on my backpack—which was straining at the seams once again—and tried not to think too longingly of my tiny apartment, a hot meal and a long, hot shower. 

Only then did it dawn on me that I was still in my office clothes. 

Great. Just great. Perfect gear for hiking into the forest.

Just a few more days of this. I could manage.

I grabbed my staff, careful to hold it ground end down, and clipped on my flashlight.

After a moment’s consideration, I flipped it to red light mode.

If there were hollows waiting for me, I didn’t want to be blind to them.

The trip in seemed to take twice as long. I should be near the end of the trail by now.

Reached a fork in the trail and stopped. 

Damn it—left? Or was it further on?

I stared into the darkness both ways, pulse hammering.

Consulted the bond. Lusa was—

The woods no longer felt empty.

That strange awareness settled over me a heartbeat before I caught movement at the edge of my vision. 

Just miasma, I told myself. Nothing to worry about—

It wasn’t.

I felt them before I saw them. 

Luminous green eyes, crouched low to the ground, stared at me.

Hollow. 

I turned back to the fork. Yeah it had to have been this fork. 

Another set of sickly green eyes waited on the trail.

Two of them. The scrawny canine ones—barely taller than my knee. I couldn’t remember what Lusa had called them.

Mutts would do.

They lunged forward, jaws snapping inches away.

I took a step back, trying to keep both in view.

Not trying to kill me.

Pushing me back. 

My hands shook. I tightened my grip on the staff. Even if it was just wood, it was solid enough to make something think twice.

One lunged again. 

I roared and swung. A surge of that warm energy flared beneath my skin.

The blow connected with the mutt’s jaw and sent it flying.

It crashed into a tree and crumpled with a yelp of pain.

I lowered the staff, staring at it. No way I’d hit that hard—

The second mutt lunged. 

I darted around it, smacking it with my staff as I pelted down the trail toward the grove. It shouldn’t be far.

My lungs burned. Whatever energy had flared beneath my skin was gone. But the bond pulled me forward, urging me to hurry.

Something. Behind. 

Close.

I spun, catching my heel on a root…and fell. Landed hard on my backpack. Air rushed out of my lungs and my staff fell from my hands.

The remaining mutt was on top of me in an instant. 

I got my left arm up just before its jaws clamped down. 

The pressure lasted only a heartbeat before pain caught up. 

I screamed, fumbling for my staff. 

Couldn’t find it. 

Couldn’t shake the hollow off. 

I was going to die.

My hand hit the knife clipped to my backpack. 

I yanked.

Nothing.

Panic hit full force.

The hollow wrenched my arm sideways, thrashing its head. Claws dug into my ribs as it fought for a better grip. 

I gripped the knife and pulled, willing it to slide free.

Nearly dropped it as it cleared the sheath. 

I tightened my grip.

Slammed it into the mutt’s neck. 

The hollow shrieked and let go, jumping back, taking my knife with it.

I scrambled to my knees and found my staff. 

The hollow lunged again.

My left arm screamed.

I swung anyway.

I got lucky.

The staff hit the knife at an angle, tearing a larger wound. The hollow howled and backed up.

I scrambled to my feet and ran for the grove. 

It gave chase.

How was that fair? One bite to the arm and I could barely hold my staff. This thing had a knife in its neck and just kept coming.

My lungs were on fire and it was a miracle I hadn’t tripped again.

I rounded a corner of the trail. A low glow caught my eyes. 

There. Our campfire. I just had to make it to the circle.

I opened my mouth to call for Lusa—and a wave of oily cold washed over me.

She wasn’t alone. 

Eyes.

Everywhere.

Hollows.

Why hadn’t I felt them?

Then a taller shadow shifted among the trees.

The corrupted.

The hollows’ attack—they hadn’t really wanted me. I wasn’t a threat.

They’d wanted to keep me from her. 

The demanding pull in my chest made sense. 

Lusa thought I wasn’t coming. 

Something in me snapped. 

I pelted toward the circle, gripping my staff. No way I was slipping past them unnoticed. I was making too much noise.

I yelled a wordless cry of defiance and leaped for the circle, swinging at the hollow that tried to intercept me.

Claws raked my leg. I screamed as fire seared, then I crashed into the ward. 

The barrier wrapped around me, resisting—

—and folded. I landed hard. 

I pushed myself up. Limped deeper into the circle.

Lusa sat, holding the stone, her eyes were wide. 

I stood in front of her, staff in hand, and stared at the corrupted.

What was I doing? 

Two of his weaker minions nearly handed me my ass out in the woods and here I was acting like I could take him on?

“Little Warden,” he greeted, sounded amused. “Dear Lusa’ta thought you’d abandoned her.”

I didn’t reply, just stared, trying to remember how to breathe. 

Fear gibbered in my brain. I didn’t think I could form coherent words. 

I shoved the fear down when it tried to bubble up, to tell me I was out of my damn mind.

“You look rather—worn,” he said, as if we had met out in town.

“Monologue,” I heard myself say. “Pretty standard for you evil types.” 

I snapped my mouth shut as my brain caught up. 

Where had that come from?

He looked me over, then addressed Lusa as if I wasn’t worth further notice. “Mortals these days are so weak. Take away their comforts and they crumble. When this one abandons you—and he will—I will come for you.”

Lusa didn’t respond.

I kept my grip on the staff and said nothing.

I didn't dare look at Lusa. 

The corrupted made a grating, impatient sound.

“Come, you’ve played with the mortal enough for one night.” 

And he was gone. The hollows melted into the darkness.

But the shadow kitties remained.

No surprise.

Pain caught up with me. Blood ran down my arm. The wounds on my torso and legs were on fire.

I sagged, wanting nothing more than a bottle of pain killer and to sleep for a week, but—Lusa.

“You okay?” I managed.

She stared at me with wide eyes. “You came back.”

“Said I would.”

“But you said by sunset. I thought—“

“Sorry. Work. Couldn’t leave until late.”

I shrugged off my backpack, hissing through my teeth as I tried—and failed—to not use my left arm. The containers I’d brought were cracked, some leaking. My backpack was shredded.  

“You need to clean—“

“Food. You eat—then I’ll clean these.” I said. “I’ll get you a phone tomorrow.”

The corrupted had that much wrong.

I wasn't leaving her to face this alone.

We’d get her anchored and find someone who could truly protect her. If tonight had taught me anything, that person was not me.