The scratch of claws against the wood was sickening, like nails against a chalkboard. But it was nothing compared to the smell that the Wendigo gave off. It was like rotting carrion, thick and ripe in the air. Arcturus felt as if it coated the back of his throat, so strongly did it reek of death. He sensed the demon was creeping toward them, cautiously. Arcturus supposed that it must have not recognized his scent, since humans were not native to the ether. It was suspicious of the unknown—yet it approached nonetheless.
“Get back!” Arcturus yelled, slamming the dirk through the keyhole, twisting and scraping at the mechanism within.
He heard the skitter of claws as the Wendigo leaped away, like a startled bird. Even so, it was but a moment before he heard the slow creep once again.
Strangely, it did not seem to be approaching him this time, or at least, not that he could hear. Instead, the Wendigo appeared to be heading toward the lockers on the other side of the room. As Arcturus honed in on them, he could smell a trace of something he hadn’t before: a mix of bath soap, sweat and leather. Perhaps both he and the Wendigo could smell the aprons within, and the creature had decided they were easier prey.
Arcturus didn’t care, as long as it was moving away from him. He could feel the lock in the door clicking with every rattle of his dirk, until finally, a dull clunk told him that the latch had popped on the other side. With a last wrench, he dragged the door open, tumbling through with Sacharissa just behind him.
He slammed the door closed, threw the latch back in place and pressed his back against it.
The Wendigo rammed against the door, its predatory instincts telling it to chase that which ran away. The door shuddered but stayed firm against the demon’s onslaught. Perhaps it had been made thick and sturdy for that very reason.
Arcturus felt a rush of hot, moist air against his ankles, as the Wendigo snorted beneath the door, smelling him. He slid down and raked the dirk through the crack, and was immediately rewarded by a grunt of pain. The blade tip came away sticky with black blood. Then there was a clatter of claws as the demon crawled away in search of less dangerous prey.
Arcturus took a deep breath and assessed his situation. His satchel was still attached to his back and Rook and Charles were nowhere to be seen. They must have returned to their rooms, in case someone heard Arcturus screaming.
It had all turned out better than expected in the end. There was blood on the floor from his nose and Arcturus was sure that if they found no body, Charles would assume that the Wendigo had eaten him entirely, then faded into the ether.
He had inadvertently faked his own death. It was perfect.
Sacharissa nosed against his palm and he gave her a brief hug. He only wished he had time to try to infuse her before he disappeared into the night. She was in enough danger, and it would save him feeding her. She was already hungry, for Ulfr had only brought her one meager portion of mincemeat in the afternoon.
Suddenly, he heard a bellow from inside the room, like the last breath of a wounded bull. Then a scream, so loud and full of horror, that it cut him through to his very soul. There was no doubt in Arcturus’s mind who it could be.
“Elaine!” he gasped.
CHAPTER
15
HE THREW OPEN THE door, the darkness inside suddenly lit by the dim light of the atrium. Wyrdlights flew from his fingers, zooming in to reveal the monstrous figure at the other end of the room.
Elaine lay curled up on the floor in front of a broken locker, covering her head with her hands. Brave little Valens was buzzing around the Wendigo’s head, stabbing his undeveloped stinger at its eyes. With each swipe of the Wendigo’s claws, the Mite dodged into the maze of antlers that branched from the monster’s forehead, so that his attacks clattered ineffectually against them. Arcturus realized that Elaine must have overheard him and Charles, and then hidden in a locker to watch their fight.
“Elaine, get out of there!” he yelled.
But Elaine didn’t move. She was motionless, as helpless as a newborn lamb.
“Fetch her, Sacha,” Arcturus ordered, running toward the Wendigo, his dirk outstretched. Sacharissa bounded beside him, skittering as she struggled to find purchase on the smooth floor.
It was a good fifty yards to run, but it felt like a mile as the Wendigo flailed its claws around the room, each step dangerously close to Elaine’s prone figure beneath.
Sacharissa reached her first, snatching Elaine’s shirt collar and dragging her to the open door of the summoning room. It was slow going, and they had barely made any progress when the Wendigo spotted his two new opponents.
Enraged by the stinging insect, it bellowed a challenge at Sacharissa, raking its claws along the ground to leave deep scores in the floorboards. Sacharissa paused, lowering her head and crouching against the floor. Arcturus sensed her intent: to meet the Wendigo head-on.
“No, get her out of here,” he yelled, stepping between them. “I’ll keep it busy.”
He held the dirk in front of him, cutting back and forth at the air. It looked tiny next to the long talons that the Wendigo bore. One blade against ten.
A wyrdlight drifted between them. For a moment the Wendigo’s eyes were transfixed upon it, then it was gone, floating past them.
“How about this,” Arcturus yelled, shooting a wyrdlight from his finger to zoom around the Wendigo’s head. It blinked stupidly, then swiped its claw at it, just as it had done with Valens. The wyrdlight was extinguished, but another few seconds had been bought. Valens took this opportunity to sting at the Wendigo’s eyes again. The monster swiped blindly at its face and left a groove of raw flesh in its own skin before the Mite was forced to take refuge in the antlers once again.
“Take this, this and this,” Arcturus yelled, sending one wyrdlight after the other to circle the Wendigo’s head. The Wendigo staggered in confusion, slapping at them like flies on a hot day. Arcturus glanced back, to see Sacharissa was almost at the door. That was his mistake.
The Wendigo lunged, its claws slicing through the air to grasp for his throat. It was only by sheer luck that Arcturus managed to dive aside, but a grasping claw sliced him at the hip.
He was barely up and running before the next claw came slashing toward him. This time, there was no time to dodge. Instead, Arcturus blasted wyrdlight in a thick pulse of mana, a beam that left the Wendigo staggering as it clutched its scorched retinas. The claw knocked Arcturus flying, but the bulk of it was caught in the satchel on his back. Still, as he landed on the ground he could feel blood trickling down his spine and a streak of fierce pain across his shoulder blades.
Then he was running again, driven by adrenaline and fear as the Wendigo roared behind him. Valens zoomed over his shoulder, abandoning his perch to return to his mistress. Sacharissa was moments from the door, but Elaine was fighting against her now, oblivious that the Canid was trying to help—beating at Sacharissa’s snout with her fists.
It was the blood that did it. The puddle of blood Arcturus had left on the ground from his nosebleed, wet against the smooth surface of the oak floorboards. His boot slipped from under him, no more than a few feet from the entrance. His head cracked against the ground, blackening his vision as the senses were knocked from him. So close. He had been so close.
He could feel Sacharissa dragging him, and the dull vibrations as the Wendigo approached from across the room. There was a strangled snarl and the pressure on his leg loosened. Then Sacharissa was leaping over his body, claws outstretched.
“No,” Arcturus whispered weakly, forcing himself to his knees.
But Sacharissa was already there, dodging beneath the Wendigo’s outstretched claws to bite at the legs beneath. She took a calf in her teeth and shook her head violently, tearing into the hard flesh. Even as the Wendigo lashed at her, she had disappeared between its legs, only to swipe at its thigh with her claws. But as Arcturus rejoiced, the Wendigo kicked blindly like a mule, catching her in the chest and hurling her across the room. She lay there, barely able to breathe. Arcturus heaved with the pain of it, and knew her ribs were broken.