lights? I don’t allow myself to open my eyes as my movements get faster and faster – the runes have taken over, carrying me with them. The soil demon growls – I stab and stab again without touching it, and the creatures howls in pain.
All of a sudden, I can’t breathe anymore – my mouth is full of soil. Muffled sounds, my lungs exploding – there’s no air, no air. It can’t be. I can’t die like this, buried alive. I can’t.
“Elodie …” I try to say, but as I open my lips soil gets in my mouth and down my throat and I begin to suffocate. I cough. My chest is in agony.
Who’s going to look after Sarah?
There’s only darkness around me, and cold, and I can’t even move a finger. A thought hits me, as clear as ice: I’m dead. I’m dead.
But there’s another jerking movement, less hard this time – and different. Different because it pulls me up towards the surface and not down towards a wet, black tomb.
“Sean!”
The voice is muffled. Something is grabbing at my fingers, hard, and is yanking me upwards with a scream of rage and terror and a voice that belongs to Elodie.
I can make out the words. “ Niryana prati Surari !” the voice is saying. “ Niryana !” I recognize it as one of the battle cries of the Secret Families, in the ancient language. Whatever had been wrapped around my ankles suddenly lets go – and the blessed, blessed hand that pulls me upwards grabs my wrists – my lungs are bursting, exploding with pain – how long can a man survive without air? Not much longer. And then, with a final terrible effort, a million stars explode over my head and I’m staring at the night sky, and breathing, breathing deeply, painfully, like a baby who breathes for the first time.
“Sean! Sean!” Elodie’s hands are brushing the soil away from my eyes.
I splutter and cough, and turn my head to throw up soil and bile. I gulp in fresh air at once, then spit some more and inhale some more, until my head stops splitting and my lungs stop screaming.
“Are you OK? Sean, are you OK?” Elodie says over and over again – she’s terrified, I can hear it in her voice. So much to lose. So much more than when there were hundreds of us hunting – now every loss is a disaster to humanity.
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” I wipe my mouth with my sleeve. I’m covered in mud, and wriggling little creatures fall out of my hair as I sit up.
“That was close,” she whispers.
“Did you see someone? Did someone see us?”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw a red light. I thought maybe a car.”
Elodie shakes her head. “There was no car. It was you. Your runes. There was a red light.” She waves her slender fingers in the air. “Like a ribbon.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about, and no time to ponder. “The soil demons?”
“One is dead.” She points to a lifeless bundle lying not far from us – it’s curled up in a ball, its white skin gleaming feebly. Its lips are blue. Elodie has poisoned it. Black liquid is pouring from where I’d stabbed it with my runes.
“The other?”
“I don’t—”
A hand spurts out of the soil like a monstrous root, and another, fumbling at her legs – and then a head, growling and sniffing the air for flesh. But this time I’m ready – I slip my sgian-dubh out of its strap and start tracing the runes once more.
The Surari lifts itself up in fury and leaps at me – I raise my dagger, placing an invisible barrier between us. The creature growls and holds its throat where I have slashed it open, black liquid spurting from the severed flesh.
“You buried me alive, you bastard!” I scream. What am I doing? Speaking to the Surari, like Sarah?
“Back soil … Me … back soil.”
“ Niryana !” yells Elodie again.
“Elodie! No!” But it’s too late. She’s thrown herself on the demon, as agile as a cat. But she is no match for it. The Surari grabs her hair, its mouth is open.
I have no choice. I launch myself towards the
All of a sudden, I can’t breathe anymore – my mouth is full of soil. Muffled sounds, my lungs exploding – there’s no air, no air. It can’t be. I can’t die like this, buried alive. I can’t.
“Elodie …” I try to say, but as I open my lips soil gets in my mouth and down my throat and I begin to suffocate. I cough. My chest is in agony.
Who’s going to look after Sarah?
There’s only darkness around me, and cold, and I can’t even move a finger. A thought hits me, as clear as ice: I’m dead. I’m dead.
But there’s another jerking movement, less hard this time – and different. Different because it pulls me up towards the surface and not down towards a wet, black tomb.
“Sean!”
The voice is muffled. Something is grabbing at my fingers, hard, and is yanking me upwards with a scream of rage and terror and a voice that belongs to Elodie.
I can make out the words. “ Niryana prati Surari !” the voice is saying. “ Niryana !” I recognize it as one of the battle cries of the Secret Families, in the ancient language. Whatever had been wrapped around my ankles suddenly lets go – and the blessed, blessed hand that pulls me upwards grabs my wrists – my lungs are bursting, exploding with pain – how long can a man survive without air? Not much longer. And then, with a final terrible effort, a million stars explode over my head and I’m staring at the night sky, and breathing, breathing deeply, painfully, like a baby who breathes for the first time.
“Sean! Sean!” Elodie’s hands are brushing the soil away from my eyes.
I splutter and cough, and turn my head to throw up soil and bile. I gulp in fresh air at once, then spit some more and inhale some more, until my head stops splitting and my lungs stop screaming.
“Are you OK? Sean, are you OK?” Elodie says over and over again – she’s terrified, I can hear it in her voice. So much to lose. So much more than when there were hundreds of us hunting – now every loss is a disaster to humanity.
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” I wipe my mouth with my sleeve. I’m covered in mud, and wriggling little creatures fall out of my hair as I sit up.
“That was close,” she whispers.
“Did you see someone? Did someone see us?”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw a red light. I thought maybe a car.”
Elodie shakes her head. “There was no car. It was you. Your runes. There was a red light.” She waves her slender fingers in the air. “Like a ribbon.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about, and no time to ponder. “The soil demons?”
“One is dead.” She points to a lifeless bundle lying not far from us – it’s curled up in a ball, its white skin gleaming feebly. Its lips are blue. Elodie has poisoned it. Black liquid is pouring from where I’d stabbed it with my runes.
“The other?”
“I don’t—”
A hand spurts out of the soil like a monstrous root, and another, fumbling at her legs – and then a head, growling and sniffing the air for flesh. But this time I’m ready – I slip my sgian-dubh out of its strap and start tracing the runes once more.
The Surari lifts itself up in fury and leaps at me – I raise my dagger, placing an invisible barrier between us. The creature growls and holds its throat where I have slashed it open, black liquid spurting from the severed flesh.
“You buried me alive, you bastard!” I scream. What am I doing? Speaking to the Surari, like Sarah?
“Back soil … Me … back soil.”
“ Niryana !” yells Elodie again.
“Elodie! No!” But it’s too late. She’s thrown herself on the demon, as agile as a cat. But she is no match for it. The Surari grabs her hair, its mouth is open.
I have no choice. I launch myself towards the
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