Chapter 54 Hi

Chapter 54 Hi
      Sebastian POV 
      “Damn it!”
      Edgar lunges again.
      I barely get my arm up in time as he shifts midair, his teeth snapping shut inches from my throat. The force of it sends both of us crashing into the dirt. He claws at me like a starving animal, his claws digging into my coat as he tries to drag himself closer.
      His breath smells like rot.
      Not normal rot.
      Something darker. Like decay mixed with magic.
      “Hold him!” Sybil shouts.
      “I’m trying!” I grit out as I grab him.
      Edgar thrashes beneath my grip with terrifying strength. The veins spreading from the bite on his shoulder pulse black beneath his skin, creeping farther up his neck.
      Luther grabs one of Edgar’s arms.
      Aven grabs the other. The look on their faces says everything. They’re truly afraid. But not for their lives, for Edgar’s. He’s a good friend of ours.
      For a moment we manage to pin him.
      But it doesn’t last.
      Edgar’s body convulses violently, half his body is shifted, the other is human. A guttural snarl rips from his throat as he throws all three of us off like we weigh nothing.
      Aven hits the ground hard with a grunt.
      Edgar whips toward her instantly.
      Predator.
      Target locked.
      “No!” I shout.
      He launches.
      Before he can reach her, Sybil steps forward.
      Her voice cuts through the clearing like a blade.
      “Dormire.”
      The word vibrates through the air.
      Not loud.
      But powerful.
      The ground beneath our feet hums.
      For a split second, silver light flares around Sybil’s hands. It spirals outward like threads of moonlight weaving through the night air.
      The magic slams into Edgar mid-stride.
      His body freezes.
      Every muscle locks.
      His eyes widen in shock.
      Then the strength drains from him all at once.
      Edgar collapses like someone cut the strings holding him upright.
      The clearing goes silent except for the crackle of the fire.
      For a moment none of us move.
      Aven slowly pushes herself up onto her elbows, staring at Edgar’s motionless body.
      “…Is he dead?” she asks quietly, pain etching his voice. 
      Sybil exhales and lowers her hands.
      “No.”
      She walks forward carefully, kneeling beside him. Her fingers hover just above his throat.
      A second later she nods.
      “He’s breathing. Just knocked out.
      Relief hits my chest like a wave.
      Luther lets out a long breath and rubs his face.
      “Goddess above..”
      I walk over slowly, staring down at Edgar.
      Even unconscious, his face looks wrong.
      Those black veins are still there.
      Still spreading.
      “Can you fix it?” I ask.
      Sybil’s expression tightens.
      “Not here. The forest dampens my powers.”
      That answer sits heavy in the air.
      Aven swallows. “Then what do we do?”
      Sybil stands.
      “We keep him alive until we get him somewhere safe. I’ve slowed whatever curse or corruption is spreading through him, but I cannot remove it tonight.”
      She looks at me.
      “We tie him up.”
      Luther raises a brow.
      “You’re serious?”
      Sybil gestures toward Edgar’s body.
      “You saw him. If he wakes up like that again, he’ll try to kill us. And if he bites someone else..”
      She doesn’t finish the sentence.
      She doesn’t need to.
      The forest around us feels suddenly colder.
      I crouch down and grab Edgar’s wrists.
      “Luther,” I say quietly.
      He nods immediately.
      Aven pulls a coil of rope from her pack.
      Within minutes Edgar is tied securely against the thick trunk of a fallen tree near the fire. Wrists bound. Ankles bound. Extra rope across his chest.
      Just in case.
      None of us speaks while we work.
      The fire pops softly beside us.
      Finally, when everything is done, Sybil kneels in front of him again.
      She presses two fingers gently against the side of the bite wound.
      The black veins flicker faintly beneath the skin.
      Her eyes darken.
      “That rogue bite wasn’t natural, like I thought. It’s magical,” she murmurs.
      I cross my arms.
      “I figured that much.”
      Sybil looks at the two artifacts still resting on the cloth beside the fire.
      The crown fragment.
      And the Petrified Heart.
      Their faint glow reflects in her eyes.
      “I believe whatever corrupted those wolves.. may be tied to the same magic Cassian used for the spell.”
      A cold knot forms in my stomach.
      “So this is connected,” Luther mutters.
      Sybil nods slowly.
      “I believe so.”
      A heavy silence falls over the campsite.
      Finally, Aven glances toward the waterfall, where the mist curls silver under the moonlight.
      “…You said you know where the third artifact is.”
      Sybil stands slowly.
      “Yes. So let’s get some rest.”
      All of us look at her.
      She points toward the rising mist where the waterfall crashes into the pool below.
      “That way.” 
      I stare at the rushing water.
      “You’re kidding.”
      Sybil shakes her head.
      I look where she’s pointing, the edge of the falls. Where the water drops by more than 100 feet. Way past it, I swear I see a little town.
      “The magic is strongest in that direction. I can feel it.”
      Luther groans.
      “Fantastic.”
      I rub the back of my neck and stare at the roaring waterfall.
      “Is that a town?” Aven asks.
      Sybil nods. “Everyone should sleep. We leave first thing. I’ve got us covered for the night, no one needs to watch. And Edgar is out and won’t be awake for hours. We all should rest.”
      ••••••••••••••••••••
      Day three in the Dark Forest.
      Another artifact is waiting.
      Another chance for something down there to try and eat me.
      I glance back at Edgar tied to the tree, unconscious but breathing.
      Then back to the falls.
      “How do we get there?”
      The burnt-out fire crackles as the embers slow. 
      “Down and straight through,” Sybil says.
      Sybil studies the waterfall a moment longer before shaking her head slightly, like she’s correcting herself.
      “…Actually,” she murmurs.
      We all look at her.
      “That’s strange.”
      Luther groans from where he’s sitting. “Please tell me the strange thing is that we’re done and can go home.”
      Sybil ignores him.
      Her eyes close.
      For a moment the only sounds are the waterfall crashing nearby and the faint crackle of the dying fire.
      Then she opens her eyes again.
      “It’s moving.”
      I blink. “What’s moving?”
      “The magic. The artifact.”
      Aven frowns. “Artifacts don’t just get up and walk away.”
      Sybil’s gaze drifts toward the trees beyond the clearing.
      “This one did. And it’s closer to us.” 
      That sentence settles into my stomach like a stone.
      I stand slowly.
      “What exactly are we looking for?”
      Sybil tilts her head slightly, like she’s listening to something none of us can hear.
      “..A blade,” she says quietly.
      Luther straightens. “A sword?”
      “No.”
      She lifts her hand and holds it about the length of her forearm.
      “Shorter.”
      A dagger.
      The word hangs unspoken in the air.
      “What kind of dagger?” Aven asks.
      Sybil’s brow furrows as the image sharpens in her mind.
      “Old,” she says slowly. “Very old. The metal is dark. The edge is chipped in places from its use.”
      Her eyes flicker.
      “..but it’s sharper than any blade I’ve ever felt.”
      I glance at Luther.
      He whistles quietly.
      “Sounds friendly.”
      Sybil’s expression doesn’t change.
      “The magic in it is.. vicious.”
      That gets everyone’s attention.
      Before anyone can say anything else, a faint rustle comes from the trees beyond the clearing.
      All our heads snap toward the sound.
      Instinct tightens every muscle in my body.
      Luther quietly reaches for his weapon.
      “Did you hear that?” Aven whispers.
      I nod.
      The sound comes again.
      Soft footsteps.
      Too light to be a wolf.
      Too uneven to be an adult.
      A shape moves between the trees.
      Small.
      Very small.
      Then a child steps into the edge of the firelight.
      Everyone freezes.
      The boy can’t be older than eight.
      Maybe nine.
      He’s barefoot.
      His clothes are torn and muddy, hanging off his thin frame like they’ve been through the forest for days. His dark hair sticks in every direction, and his face is smudged with dirt.
      But that isn’t what makes my stomach drop.
      It’s what he’s got wrapped around his tiny waist.
       A dagger.
      Old.
      Dark metal.
      The blade chipped along the edge.
      And even from ten feet away, I can feel it.
      The magic in it hums through the air like a nest of hornets.
      Sybil inhales sharply beside me.
      “Well.. That’s it.”
      The boy stares at us.
      Wide eyes reflecting the firelight.
      Not scared.
      Just.. watching.
      His small fingers tighten slightly around the dagger’s handle.
      And the blade gleams. 
      Luther mutters under his breath.
      “…Please tell me we’re not about to fight a kid.”
      The boy tilts his head slightly.
      Then he takes a slow step closer to the fire.
      And the dagger pulses.
      Once.
      Like a heartbeat.
      “Hi!” The boy chirps with a bright, toothy smile.