Kialo stood amongst the stirring wind, her face shadowed by the crimson light of the moons. Siam watched her leader anxiously. The young healer hadn’t been able to find a cure when Ciaràn fell ill and now Gargoyle had fallen under the dark spell as well.
“Vankandra has been silent,” Kialo said, at last, her face twisted with worry. “I fear these gods-forsaken red moons are to blame.”
“Surely,” Siam said quietly, “that spirit couldn’t have really closed off our connection to the gods… right?”
Kialo didn’t reply.
Siam gritted her teeth and turned towards the cliff that overlooked the tundra. The landscape was stained in a macabre red as if a deadly battle had just been fought, though the snow was untouched and laid peacefully. What will become of us if these phantom moons don’t disappear? She wasn’t sure, and she was afraid to ask.
After a long while of silence, Kialo spoke again. “I am loathe to say this, but perhaps we need help from… him.” Her lips pulled back in a ghost of a snarl, her fangs bared against the thought of reining in her pride.
“Darkling, you mean.” Siam cringed inwardly. She didn’t like the strange shaman – he watched her like a wolf would watch a rabbit, his eyes full of dark mystery. But still… the shadowy spirit that had appeared to them before was an eerie imitation of him. “Where would we find him?”
Kialo hesitated for a moment before admitting, “I don’t know. But I’m sure he’ll know we’re looking for him.”
Siam shook her head, her mane ruffling in the freezing wind. “Can you be sure he’ll actually help us?”
“No,” Kialo admitted, looking gaunt. “But it’s the only hope we have right now. Take Sixx and Aconis with you and go. He should be in the moorlands.”
Siam dipped her head, but her heart was heavy. “Will you not come? If you were the one to ask I’m sure-”
“No,” Kialo said immediately. “You know what he’s like. If I were to be forced into a deal with him, it could affect the entire Clan.”
With a heavy sigh, Siam nodded. “I know.” Dread curled at her stomach. That means I’ll have to be the one to take the deal. What would the shaman want from her? A cub? Herbs from her storage? She would never be able to tell until he came to collect the debt.
As Siam trudged down the snowy path to camp, she forced her heart to harden against her doubts. This is the responsibility I must take, then. She hoped she had the strength to do it.
The moorlands were too warm for Siam and her little patrol. Summer had warmed the heather and sand to a blistering swelter, even under the unsettling red light of the nightmare moons.
“How do these sabers live like this?” Adonis hissed, his thick pelt soaked in sweat and mist from the endless fog. “They must not have any fur at all if they think this kind of heat is good.”
“Quiet.” Siam snapped, her heart leaping to her throat. “The Mist have eyes everywhere. Do not risk insulting them.”
“Insulting us?” A lilting voice made Siam wilt. From the shadows and mist came shining yellow eyes. For the briefest of moments, the healer thought they had run into Fang, the leader of the Mist, but to her eternal relief, she realized it was a sabress who was approaching. “I wouldn’t call it insulting. More like… funny.”
The relief was short-lived. Even through the swirling fog, Siam could see this saber’s fur was glossy and her muscles were taut – she was fully-grown, well-fed, and clearly confident.
“I am To Strike Without Mercy.” The sabress announced, standing tall. “You may call me Strike. My dam is the Teachta of the Mist.”
Siam hesitated. What was the proper way to reply? Did she need to give her name too? What was a Teachta? Was there some sort of rule-
“My name’s Adonis and I’m from the Black Claw Tribe!” Adonis announced loudly. “We’re looking for Darkling!”
The sabress inspected Adonis for a long moment and Siam’s soul shot straight out of her body. However, Strike just laughed. “A bold one you are! I suppose you’re here for the cure to the nightmares, yes?”
“So you know about them?” Siam’s fur began to prickle.
Strike shifted on her paws, looking uneasy for a moment. It was just a moment though – she was back to her cocky self immediately. “Darkling said they were a… misfire of his ritual.”
Siam’s heart froze. She had known Darkling’s shamanic powers were strong, but strong enough to summon a demon? It was unheard of. If Darkling really released this… thing, then he’ll definitely know more about it than we do.
Sixx spoke up then, her voice trembling with rage. “Darkling made the nightmares?! They’ve spread across this land like a disease. Gargoyle and Ciaràn are sick. Did your tribe-”
“We didn’t send them if that’s what you’re going on about. Not on purpose at least.” Strike rolled her eyes and turned her back to the little patrol, as if she was confident none of them would attack.
She’s right. Siam thought, grinding her teeth. “Well, would you please take us to Darkling then?”
“I suppose.” Strike turned her head with a dramatic flair, her thick mane creating a dark halo around her head. “But what will you offer me in return?”
Damn! Siam dug her claws into the earth, ripping at a sedge plant. Of course the gods-forsaken Mist would abuse their time of need like this. “I suppose if you need-”
“Prey!” Adonis interrupted. He pushed his way to the front and stood taller, ignoring Sixx’s hiss of warning. “I’ll come and hunt for you for a moon.”
“A season of hunting.” Strike retorted, her eyes shining with interest.
“Deal.” Adonis did not even hesitate. “Now take us to Darkling.”
Strike laughed deep in her chest before beginning to pad into the swirling fog. “Keep up then, little snowcats. If you get lost, it’s not my problem.”
Sixx and Siam shared an uneasy look before following, but Adonis seemed quite pleased.
Please, Vankandra. Siam thought. Spare the child. She had no idea what the Mist would have in store for Adonis, but she knew Strike would manage to twist their deal around somehow. But we’ll have to cross that stream when we get to it. We need to focus on the nightmares right now.
Siam didn’t know what she had expected of Darkling’s den. Perhaps a mess of shattered bones and bloody pelts, or a stone prison filled with ice and fire. An owl-made firepit with a large bowl of boiling water was the strangest thing in the den, and even Siam had one. There wasn’t at least something to indicate the owner was a deranged shaman who summoned demons and turned the world into a waking nightmare.
Instead, Siam found that Darkling’s den wasn’t unlike her own. Neat piles and bundles of herbs, claws bowls of poultice, and various feathers, skulls, and other ritual necessities. It was surreal how normal everything felt.
“Well, this is it.” Strike said matter-of-factly. “Darkling’s den. Not much to look at, is it?”
“Where’s the rest of your tribe?” Adonis asked, looking around curiously. “It’s so small in here.”
“The Mist don’t live together like we do, Adonis.” Sixx gave Strike a sideways glare and Siam silently prayed it wouldn’t turn into a fight.
“Yes, we live as we please.” Strike looked rather smug about the fact. “And it’s done us a lot of good, I’d say.”
Sixx huffed, but Siam nodded hastily. “I see, I see. Now, when is Darkling coming back? We’re in a bit of a rush. I need to return home to my patients.”
“Darkling is here,” a languid voice rolled in from the den’s entrance and the saber himself appeared as if summoned by his name. “Strike, my dear and darling niece, why have you brought strangers into my den?”
As the shaman came closer, Siam noticed a white cub was following nervously behind him, his mouth full of herbs. “Is that your apprentice?”
To her relief, Darkling looked pleased. “Yes. This is Moon. He’s training to become a healer.”
Moon dipped his head before scurrying off to the clay pot over the fire, dropping the herbs into it. He gingerly took a long stick in his mouth and began stirring the water with intent purpose.
Siam turned her attention back to Darkling and cleared her throat. “I’m here-”
“About the nightmares, I’m aware.”
“Can you read minds?!” Adonis blurted out. Siam wanted to shove the bearn’s face into the den floor.
Darkling regarded Adonis with as much annoyance as Siam had for him. “Are all your cubs this rude? No, I can’t read minds. I can just use my brain, which is something you clearly lack. All the other tribes have sought me out already to help with the nightmares, so clearly you would too.”
“He did not mean it,” Siam murmured, stepping closer. She forced her irritation down and lowered her head respectfully. “We are all worried about our tribemates’ health. Please. Strike said you summoned the… creature. Is that true? Do you know a way to defeat it?”
Darkling sat down, blinking slowly. “It’s not a creature, per se.” He turned to the clay pot that Moon was stirring. “Every ritual has consequences, as you should know by now. Sometimes they go wrong and it can lead to unfortunate results.”
“Like summoning something that creates nightmares across the world,” Sixx said dryly. Darkling shot her an annoyed look, but he nodded nonetheless.
“That’s right. This… thing is not a demon or specter or anything else.” Darkling tilted his head to the side, the skulls and bones in his mane clinking with macabre music. “Rather, it’s a reflection of myself. To be clear, two different things were released from me when the ritual went wrong.”
“Are there three of you now?” Siam winced, trying to wrap her brain around what the shaman was saying. “Is it you causing the nightmares after all?”
“If I had the power to do that, wouldn’t I have done it before?” Darkling pointed out. “I don’t. And no, there aren’t three of me. More like… two of me. The things released from me were two sides of the same leaf. I refer to them as Nightmare and Moonlit. One has the power to cause the nightmares…”
“So the other can cure them?” Siam asked hopefully. Terrible names aside, if one of them had the cure…
Darkling nodded. “That’s correct. But unfortunately, he’s… difficult to deal with.” Siam’s heart sank. Another tricky saber to make deals with?
“If you wish to talk to him, Moon will lead the way. Moonlit’s power is greater than mine, and his rituals are able to cleanse the nightmares.” Darkling paused. “But… there is another way.”
Siam perked up. “Is there?” The fewer deals she had to make, the better.
Darkling’s eyes were dark. “You can go into the saber’s dream and kill the nightmare.”
For a moment, Siam wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh or be upset at Darkling for toying with her. Yet, as she searched his face, she realized the shaman wasn’t kidding. “Enter… the dream? And fight a nightmare?”
“Trust me,” Darkling said wryly, “I’m aware of how outlandish it sounds.” He flicked his tail to Moon, who hurried over with a bundle of unusual herbs. “I assume you have a fire pit, yes?” Siam nodded and Darkling looked pleased. “Good. Bring the sabers you wish to partake in the battle and burn this bundle near them. They will be able to enter the dream and fight.”
“Is it really that simple?” Siam inspected the herbs doubtfully.
“Simple, yes, but don’t confuse that with easy,” Darkling warned. “Be warned: if a saber dies in the dreamscape, their souls will disappear. The bodies will slowly rot away in a comatose state.”
Adonis gasped and Sixx cursed. “I see,” Siam said, swallowing her fear. “Thank you.” As she bent to pick up the herbs, she waited for the I didn’t say that was free! moment, but it never came. Heart pounding, she watched Darkling for a long moment. He watched her back silently.
“You should leave now.” Strike said suddenly. “It’s getting late.”
Siam nodded jerkily, bewildered and relieved. “Thank you for your help.”
“Until next time.” Darkling said passively before lumbering to his nest.
Next time? Siam hurried out. I hope there will never be a next time!