He steered Barclay in the direction of the stairs, and the two climbed up to Soren’s rooms. They were clean and polished, unlike the rest of the inn. He had a number of papers strewn about his desk, along with several jars. Barclay recognized a few from the items Viola once had, like the bubbling green goo and lump of dead bugs.
“Let’s start with examining the Mark,” Soren said. “Can I take a look at it?”
Barclay shrugged off his heavy overcoat and showed Soren his shoulder. The angry gashes across it had stopped swelling, but they still burned a vicious red. The gold Mark of the wolflike Beast was visible below it.
Soren sat down on a stool and put on a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles. “Looks like he took a chunk out of you.” He gingerly pressed on the Mark, and Barclay winced. “What do you know about Lufthunds, Barclay?”
“Not much. I know they’re Mythic class. And I remember how it looked. Like a wolf.”
“Yes. Lufthunds appear rather canine. At full maturity, they can grow to be four feet tall and six feet long. They’re clever hunters, but not pack animals, like traditional wolves. Their loyalty is hard to earn, but once achieved, nearly unbreakable. Apart from flying Beasts, they are the fastest species in the world. They’ve been known to dissolve completely into wind. Their howls can conjure storms. TheirKeepers are also given tremendous speed, and several other wind abilities as well. The powers of a Keeper complement the Beast, you know.”
There was something strange in Soren’s voice, but Barclay couldn’t put his finger on it.
Then a stinging pain shot through his Mark, just like in the Woods before the Styerwurm had attacked. Like a warning, Barclay realized.
Soren reached over to his desk and grabbed a number of instruments: some gauze, an elixir, and a scalpel.
“You were right, Barclay. I think we do have a Lufthund on our hands,” he said breathlessly.
“What are all those tools for?”
“I’m going to remove it, like you asked. Don’t worry—it will be free of charge.”
Soren pressed the edge of the scalpel against Barclay’s shoulder, and Barclay jolted back.
“You’re going to cut it off?” he asked, horrified.
“I need to see how deep it goes. It’s a shame it’s so large—some even touches your chest. Removing your arm? That would be easy. Clean. The chest? That gets messier.”
Barclay tried to scramble to his feet, but even though Soren was no longer touching him, Barclay suddenly felt a firm hand pushing him down.
Wisps of white swirled about the room. And then Barclaysawthe hand clutching him. It was pale and skeletal, its bones held together with nothing but air. A figure beganto come together beside him, and it was tall and gaunt and looked like it was made of smoke. It stood on two legs with hunched shoulders—almost like a human—but its long, narrow face reminded him more of a stag. Antlers grew out of its head in all directions. Its eyes sockets, empty and large, glowed crimson.
Barclay screamed but didn’t make a sound. The noise flew from his lips in white curls of smoke, and the Beast opened its mouth and swallowed them.
“This is an Ischray,” Soren told Barclay, his voice still calm as Barclay began to panic and squirm in his seat. “He’s truly remarkable. He can silence any noise. Ischrays are rare enough to be Mythic class, but they unfortunately aren’t powerful enough to pass the Prime class. But I’m still rather fond of him. I’m a collector, if you will.”
Soren pressed the knife into Barclay’s skin.
“And now your Lufthund will be mine too.”
Barclay should’ve heeded the sinister signs of the Bog’s Inn. Should’ve run as soon as he felt the warning pain in his Mark. He’d been so desperate for help that he’d left Viola and wandered right into a trap, and Viola wasn’t here to save him now.
Come out! Come out!he thought frantically. He didn’t know how to summon his Beast, but Tadg and the others had made it seem so simple.Come out!
A gust of wind tore across the room, making tears run from Barclay’s eyes and sending Soren’s papers fluttering tothe floor. For a brief moment, the Ischray thrashed, its body of wisps and smoke blowing apart. Then the air stilled, and it came back together.
The Lufthund stood in the corner of the room. It had black fur, matching its black claws and black teeth. Though not nearly as large as Soren had described, it was the size of an average wolf—probably not fully grown yet. Its fur was thickest along its face and around its neck, thinning all the way down its back to where the vertebrae protruded out and Barclay could see its bones.
It lowered its head and growled.
“What a beauty,” Soren breathed, and he stood up, leaving Barclay pinned down by his terrifying Ischray.
Attack him! Help me!Barclay thought, but the Lufthund didn’t seem to listen. It only growled once more as Soren approached it with an outstretched hand.
“Shhh, boy,” Soren tried to calm it.
Don’t listen to him! Do something!
