“Get back!” Simon shouted at Kate as he leapt onto the white creature. His bare hands seized it by the throat. The homunculus thrashed, but Simon held firm.
Something seemed odd. Simon wasn’t moving, but neither was he quivering in near paralysis. He was rigid like a statue with his fingers dug deep into the creature’s flesh. What Kate could see of Simon’s skin appeared pale and lifeless, but perhaps that was the sheen of the moon. The flailing homunculus was dragging Simon awkwardly after him. Spines shot, clicking off the walls and the chair Kate scrambled behind.
The thing crashed through the French windows, sending shards of glass twinkling in the moonlight. It slipped in the wreckage and collapsed to the walkway under Simon’s immobile form. He was grasping the creature with so much strength the thing wriggled like a fish in a vise, but the magician had yet to even flinch, as if frozen in place. The homunculus’s chest was heaving. Pale hands dropped away from Simon’s back to splay out beside it. Like a trapped animal that had exhausted itself and succumbed to debilitating terror at being confined, it fell into stillness. Somehow, Simon was choking it to death.
Kate rose carefully, noting numerous quills sticking out of the chintz fabric of the chair. Foot by foot, she drew closer. The homunculus panted in a hoarse gasp like a baby with the croup. The creature’s bulbous eyes shifted to her and she froze. It didn’t move further, except to close and open its mouth. Kate reached Simon’s feet. There was something odd about the way his clothes fell over his unmoving frame. It was like cloth draped on stone rather than a man. There was no rise and fall to Simon’s chest. His eyes were open, but glassy. She pointed his stick sword toward the creature.
“Simon?” Kate murmured, and the creature’s eyes slid to her again. She pressed the point of the blade against the thing’s chest, but again, it only moved its gaping mouth. “Are you alive?”
Simon flinched and drew in a gasping breath like a man breaking the water after a long time submerged. The white creature flicked its attention to him and quills rose along the thing’s shoulders.
“Kill it,” Simon wheezed.
Kate instantly plunged the blade deep into the soft white flesh where she knew a human’s heart would be. It was disturbingly easy to stab the thing. The homunculus gave a sharp hiss. Simon whispered a word and the blade of the sword glowed blue and hot. Kate felt a strange vibration through the silver handle and almost let go of it. The creature gurgled and fell still.
Simon gasped in pain and wrenched his fingers from the creature’s neck.
“Were you struck?” Kate placed one hand on his back, which felt stiff and corded, but she maintained an eye on the homunculus.
“No.” His voice was deep and strained. His arm drew back with aching slowness and he put his hand flat against the ground. He began to hoist himself up off the homunculus as if a crane lifted him. He fell over and lay supine, nearly motionless, beside the white creature. Kate shouted in alarm. Simon raised an arm and it sounded like twigs snapping. His eyes caught hers and, impossibly, his mouth curved into a slow smile. “I will be fine in a moment. Would you mind checking to ensure it’s dead?”
Kate looked at the motionless thing. The thin sword, now plain steel, still protruded from its rib cage. Then it fell over with a metallic clang. Kate jumped back, fearful that the creature was stirring. Rather, the thing’s chest was collapsing into a sizzling crater. The tips of its fingers and toes began to bubble into whitish liquid. The eyes popped and its face caved in.
Simon’s head turned with a grating rumble. He scowled at the dissolving thing.
Kate grabbed Simon under the arms and dragged him away from the pool of ghastly ooze that drained from the white creature’s boiling remains. In less than a minute, it went from a body to viscous mush interspersed with odd metallic lumps.
“Well,” groaned Simon, “that’s unfortunate.”
Suddenly the pool of ichor stirred with a muffled, clicking sound. Short metallic rods lifted from the morass as if alive. They pivoted and jammed their ends into the large bulbous object that had been the creature’s skull. Metal rods extended and lifted the dripping skull from the ground.
Kate scrabbled for the sword. She leapt to her feet and slashed at the horrific, insectlike object. The tip of the sword rang off the skull. Kate found it disconcerting that the eye sockets were staring back at her as the thing scuttled through broken glass and raced away. With spindly metal legs, it veered one way, and Kate turned, but then it made a quick swerve, nearly causing her to lose her footing trying to follow. It accelerated onto the lawn and slipped into a row of sculpted hedges. There was a brief rustle of leaves, then silence. Kate stopped and tried to listen for the sound of clicks over her own breathing.