Arc 2: Chapter 22: Crow
I found Emma, as Nath had promised, wandering lost in the woods. She didn’t look amused. Indeed, she’d drawn her fine sword and was in the process of swiping it at Wil-O’ Wisps.
The ghostly spirits, for their part, seemed to be enjoying the game. They swept in and out of Emma’s reach in turns, giggling like children. Sweat beaded on Emma’s face, and she looked very pale — they’d drawn some of her warmth out of her. These had little in common with the small, mostly harmless spirits I’d encountered at the House of Irn Bale. In the Wend, the wisps had grown large and glowed a sickly blue-green, bloated from the stagnant od.
Sighing, I stepped out of the shadows and drew on my aura. “That’s enough,” I said, my words carrying a slight echo of power. “Begone.”
The spirits scattered, vanishing into the forest. I stepped forward, taking a moment to make sure we had no more unwelcome company, then turned my attention on Emma. Winded, she took a moment to catch her breath before glaring at me. “I had it under control.”
I nodded. “No doubt, but we’re on a timetable. If you want to keep practicing swordplay on incorporeal spirits, though, be my guest.”
Scowling, she sheathed her blade and cast a furtive look into the night. “They are malicious things. I’ve been going in circles, and…” she swallowed. “Well, it wasn’t just them. I do not like this place. The air feels foul.” She returned her amber eyes to me. “Where were you?”
“Talking to your benefactor,” I admitted. “Nath wanted a private word.
Emma’s eyes widened at that. “Then… what now?”
“Now…” I sighed. “Now, we talk to your ancestor.”
***
Fresh snow had fallen over the field beyond Orcswell, veiling the signs of the furious battle that had raged there little more than a day before. I could no longer see the patches of burnt ground, the ichorous sludge the hellhounds had dissolved into, the evil rune with which the Scorchknight had scarred the frozen earth.