Page 25 of Shadowed Summer Sun
“No, I’m not, am I.”
Moira’s voice was putrid knife slices with a rusty blade, and as I stood, she lowered herself to the ground, dropping the shroud clouding her.
I nearly retched. Immense wrongness clung to Moira. The Taking had suffused into her mortal form to change it. The sky was past dark, the moon strangled away, and the stars absent.
The warm yellow and soft greens of the meadow and fields surrounding the Coven house became an ashen gray as I faced her, matte shadows losing their depth, reflections losing their shimmer. Animal sounds were stolen as the noise of sucking and tearing filled the space around us. There was no breeze, no subtle chirping of crickets. Just the stagnant air and the constant swirling of Darkness that swarmed Moira like a cloud of insects.
That unnatural black swam in and out of her body.Her body.
My mind struggled to comprehend the being before me as I fought to stand. In life, Moira had been a dark-haired, tan-skinned woman of slim stature. She preferred the heights of luxury and excess when it came to dressing, and her deep sapphire eyes had always burned with conniving motives.
She had been beautiful, a presence that demanded regular attention to feed it, and honestly just… mean. She was cruel and callous, and her acceptance into the Coven had been one provided only because of her birth. A descendant of the original witches of Cragsrest.
In truth, I hated her.
Taking in her new form, my assessment of her inner Darkness appeared to be all too accurate. Where once there were flowing dark locks, there were now festering sores that oozed a black, tar-like substance that hovered around her head like a twisted halo. Barely covering them was a long, tattered veil of sorts that was nailed into her skull, her wounds dripping coagulated, old blood.
The entirety of her face had been contorted into a giant maw with rows of sharp, crooked teeth, two protruding from the center like a rat’s. Danging from the drooling mess was a massive, tentacled tongue that curled and flicked out. Worse, the area of her lower jaw and chin was stripped, ragged flesh that exposed her bulging esophagus that swallowed up the sludge that the Taking created from its victims.
Pale sagging skin was draped across her elongated bones—muscles and fat long since eaten by the Taking. Her enormous hands were all fingers bent with extra joints. Both feet, covered in a layer of rancid Earth, were pigeon-toed and connected to too-long legs possessing several more hinge points than before.
Around her hips was a decrepit bit of matted olive fabric that hung to her ankles and a thick cord that tied it to her protruding bones. Decorating it was the still-beating hearts of those claimed by the Taking. Her exposed chest showed drooping breasts that framed a massive hole in her chest where I could see clean through to the other side.
She held a massive lantern in her hand that cast a sick glow of muted gray light. The lantern’s skull face dripped evil from its crying eyes in a similar non-light, and in her other hand was the torn page of the grimoire, stained with blood and excrement.
“What have you done to yourself?” I shook my head.
“Me!” Her sloppy words struggled against her sucker-ridden tongue. “What have you done, innocent Summer?! Romping with a King of Darkness yourself, I see!”
The ground beneath Moira’s feet slowly blackened, reeking a horrid sweet stench of decay and pain.
“The King of Summer’s End respects the cycle!” I pulled my vines forward, circling them around my hands as I held out my arms. “You have defiled it! Dozens of husks scattered throughout the forest, cracking open the gate to the Pit, and all for what?! Because Betty told you no?! Because she tried to educate you about your disregard for the natural way?!”
Her sickening laugh echoed, a slimy, wet sound that dragged over my skin and left it burning.
“Fuck your natural order! There is more, so much more! And it’s mine. It should always have been mine! None of you ever saw my greatness, and you never hid your secrets well enough from me. Betty may have locked up the Grimoire, but all it took was a little push, and her nightmares offered up all the information I needed.”
I growled low in my throat, my claws lengthening and fangs descending into my mouth.
“Betty helped raise you, as she did me, and this is the thanks you reward her with! You have disregarded the Warnings, the Teachings, and everything we seek to protect.”
“Betty was in my way. They were all in my way. And that way is that of conquering, of devouring. Soon I will feast on your soul, dragging it into the Pit forever.”
She tucked the page into her waistband, baring her claws at me.
“You petulant fool! Your Taking doesn’t care about your mortal desires. It consumes, takes, and will take you along with everything else.”
Moira took a step forward, the clacking sound of her bones rattling as she moved.
“The Taking and I are one. We are the true End for dear old Summer. For everything. And there is nothing you can do about it.”
“Watch me.”
I launched myself into the air, vines swirling as I channeled more of my radiant glow to entwine with my Darkness. The King’s claws shadowed mine, his essence pulsing through my vines. The heat of the Sun exuded from my paler skin and golden eye as the chill of Death flowed from my black flesh and midnight eye.
A blinding eclipse of light and dark suffused my being as I fell toward Moira and raked my claws through her face, slashing through her tongue. The howl of the King’s Servant barreled through the disgusting tearing noises leaking from the Taking as it dashed through the field toward the fray.
Badb screeched behind me, and the sound grew, strengthened. Landing and quickly rolling away from Moira’s swiping claws, I took in my familiar’s new form. My dear friend had grown to a size capable of carrying me. I hopped behind her wings, holding tight with my legs, and we took off into the air.
