A Blade So Black Page 9

  No, this was something else.

  Alice held steady. Listening. Waiting.

  It came at her from the right.

  The ring of metal against metal filled her ears as an inky blade clashed with her silver one. Her attacker pressed the advance, driving her back with the momentum from a lunge. She stumbled, unable to plant her feet.

  Shit!

  When their blades came free, she twisted to avoid another strike and tumbled to the ground. The sound of her heart blasted in her ears.

  Get up! She swept around to a crouch, her blade lifted and ready.

  “You’re fast, I’ll give you that.” Amusement coated her unseen opponent’s tone, his voice smooth despite the mask he wore. Or was it a helmet? Black, it held a faint shine, along with the rest of the material covering him. Some sort of high-impact body armor. “But sloppy, tsk tsk tsk.”

  Ignoring the remark, she stood, brandishing her dagger, her muscles tense as her chest heaved.

  He seemed at ease, one hand at his waist while the other lifted his sword to rest against his shoulder. Her eyes locked on the blade: long, black, single-edged, and sleek, appearing to hang in the atmosphere as if snagged on the air itself. It didn’t reflect the moonlight so much as suck it in and snuff it out.

  “You like?” He lifted the sword. “It was a gift.”

  “Who are you?” Alice demanded through clenched teeth. “What do you want?”

  “She speaks.” His smile was audible as he tilted his head. “And I wanted your attention.”

  “Shouting ‘hey, you’ would’ve worked.”

  “Boring.” He shrugged. “And a little silly.”

  Alice snatched her other dagger free, whipping them both into a defensive stance, ignoring the throb moving through her arm.

  “Easy, kitten,” he chuckled. “We’ll get to the fun. But first, a bit of business. I need you to give a message to your handler.”

  He’s not my handler. She bit back the retort.

  “Tell him I want the Eye,” he continued. “He has it, and I’m coming to get it.”

  Eye? She blinked rapidly, frowning. “Not that I give a damn, but who do I say sent this message? Some rando SWAT ninja?”

  “The Black Knight.”

  She barked a laugh. “Seriously? The Black Knight? That’s what you’re going with?”

  He shrugged again. “The Dark Knight was taken.”

  “The Black Knight is dead.”

  “I’m afraid reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated.”

  “Sure, Jan. Either way, I ain’t no errand girl. So you can shove that and any other message up your ass.”

  “If you won’t tell him, I’ll have to come up with a more … creative way to get my point across.” He lowered his sword, sweeping the ground with the tip.

  Where the weapon touched the dirt, darkness spread outward, bubbling up out of the earth like in Ahoon. But this muck flowed on, coating the grass like oil.

  Alice recoiled, her daggers lifted as if to fend off the taint. It spread, devouring everything in its path. Plants wilted and grass withered.

  “Last chance, kitten.” He purred the nickname.

  Shoving down the panic that kicked at her heart, she lifted her gaze from the grime and glared. “Screw you.”

  He pressed his hand to his chest and gasped. “So aggressive! Have it your way.” He took a step forward and vanished.

  Movement on her left.

  She dodged in time to parry his blow. The force of the impact dug into her joints. She twisted to drive her second dagger at his hip. He pulled away.

  His next blow was easily blocked and left him open, but she hesitated. She’d never fought an actual person before. If she struck, she could kill him.

  WHAM.

  Something connected with the side of her head. Pain erupted in her skull and hammered through the rest of her body. The world winked out and she stumbled.

  “Keep your head in the game, kitten.” His voice rattled between her ears.

  Fingers curled around her wrist and squeezed so hard her bones ground together. The slices beneath her bandage screamed. So did she, her fingers jerking open. Her dagger dropped. She swung with the other. He spun with the swipe, whirled her around, and slammed her into a tree. Her vision doubled with the pain. She sank to her knees, but he kept hold of her wrist. He pressed his sword to her palm and pulled. Cold and hard, the pressure gave way to searing agony.

  Her voice cracked.

  He let go.

  She dropped her other dagger and gripped her throbbing wrist, blinking away the haze. Her stomach roiled at the sight of flesh split from her middle finger to the heel of her palm. Blood filled the gash, running over her hand in rivers.

  “Looks like that hurts.” The flat of the Black Knight’s sword tapped the side of her cheek. She twisted away to protect her wounded hand. The other slid through the dirt in search of her weapons. Tears filled her eyes. Her teeth tore a hole in her lower lip.

  “Now, about that message.” His boot connected with her shoulder and pinned it to the tree. She fought for freedom as he tapped the tip of his sword to her injured palm.

  The pain faded, replaced by a low burn that traveled up her arm. Her entire body quaked as the wound sewed itself shut. Blood blackened against her skin, seeping into it, staining it.

  “W-what … what did you do?” Her heart thrashed in her chest. She scrubbed at her palm in vain.

  “What I had to. It’s not permanent, I promise.” He sounded far more chipper than a psychopath should. “Deliver the message. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

  It wasn’t coming off. It was inside her. It wasn’t coming off! She shrank in on herself, muscles tensed to aching, head pounding. No no no.

  He knelt at her side. “Calm down, you’ll give yourself an aneurysm.” One of his hands closed over the mark, and he brushed her cheek with the other.

  “No!” She lashed out with a kick as he disappeared, her foot connecting with nothing.

  “If you keep fighting me, I’m going to have to do this the hard way, kitten,” he called, from everywhere.

  Alice jerked away from the tree as the echoes of his voice crescendoed. She scrambled to her feet, to chase him down, make him undo this, but she couldn’t keep her legs under her. “What did you do!”

  The Black Knight appeared a short distance away. “My job, unfortunately.” He held his sword toward her. Her eyes fastened on the blade, a slice of black in the light of the moon.

  “The sword, the sword, a blade so black,” he said. The words danced on the wind, echoing faintly.

  Each one drove into Alice like nails.

  He tapped the tip of the sword against the ground. The same blackness that had spilled free before, probably what tainted her hand, crawled outward. Decay followed, chewing up the dirt and grass, surrounding him.

  Alice wanted to run. Everything in her screamed to get away, but she couldn’t move. She could only stare, trembling, hot tears scorching her face. “N-no.”

  “The Vorpal Blade went snicker-snack.” He flicked his wrist. The sword swallowed the moonlight, defiling the very air around it.

  Alice’s head buzzed. Her skin flushed, her muscles threatening to burst out of it. This was wrong. “Stop.” Something inside her shouted: This. Is. Wrong.

  “He left her dead, and with her head.” Lifting his sword, he plunged it into the dirt. The blade sunk in clear to the hilt, same as hers did with the purge, only this was different. The ground shuddered before the area encasing the sword rose, hilling itself beneath the hilt.

  “Stop!” she screamed.

  He couldn’t hear her. She could barely hear herself over the shrieking wind. It whipped up a hurricane of dust and leaves, snatched at her clothes and hair, battered her body and senses. She pressed her hands against her ears.

  “He went galumphing back.” The knight’s words somehow rang clear. He pulled his weapon free, but the ground continued to bulge, higher and higher.
Branches snapped and leaves shivered as the growing hill broke through the canopy, a huge mass of blackened dirt and stone.

  The mound rippled, the various textures smoothing out or melding together to become a single amorphous blob. It shifted and shuddered, solidifying as it took on a familiar inky quality. The wind vanished. The world stilled. A low rumble Alice recognized as a growl filled the air.

  The Nightmare spun in a slow circle until the crimson orbs of its pupil-less eyes fixed on Alice. With the body of a bear and the head of a turtle, the damned thing stood twice as tall as her. Its beak parted to reveal dozens of long, thin teeth the size of her fingers. It snarled, a forked tongue darting at the air.

  “This is his fault.” The knight sheathed his sword at his back. “All of it!” he shouted, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. “Now we’ll all suffer her darkness.”

  He was talking nonsense, but Alice didn’t give a good gotdayum. Her attention was on the Nightmare, now fully formed.

  “I’m sorry it’s gotta be this way, kitten, but you can do this.” His voice echoed as he faded from sight. “Fight.”

  Fear slithered cold and wet through her limbs, but something in her moved, lifted her weapon. With the knight gone, whatever spell had held her fast was broken.

  Roaring, the beast attacked.

  Alice jerked back to avoid a swipe of talons before it reared and swung again. She dropped and rolled, springing to her feet and away to put distance between them.

  It lumbered around to face her, then pushed onto two legs.

  She lunged to the side to avoid another swing of massive paws. Her dagger scored along its arm, earning a pained howl. A massive scorpion tail with a wicked barb at the tip lashed from over its shoulder. Alice skittered back to avoid being skewered. Dirt erupted where the tail tagged the earth, but she wasn’t fast enough to dodge when it came at her again.

  She caught it broadside and flew end over end, her bones rattling as she hit the ground in a heap of bruised flesh and rolled to a stop. The smell of dirt and grass filled her nose along with the bronzed scent of blood. Every inch of her throbbed. Her lungs spasmed.

  Something punctured her left calf. She shrieked and lashed out. Her knife caught leathery flesh. The Nightmare howled and jerked its tail, the barb ripping free. Fire shot through her leg, her nerves ablaze. She scrambled back and managed to haul herself to her feet.

  The Nightmare paced back and forth nearby. Mist curled from its flared nostrils. Another pair of red eyes on either side of its head flickered into view. Both sets blinked vertical lids. Its beak hung open, rivers of drool and venom pouring to the ground. A gash along its tail where she cut it bled green, as did the stab wound in its arm.

  It charged.

  Alice whirled and threw herself into a dead run. Molten cold shot up her leg and punched her in the stomach with each step, bending her into a hobble. Terror kept her upright, kept her moving. Hatta.

  The Nightmare gained on her, pounding the ground with large paws. The tremors hit her like a shock wave, and her legs nearly gave.

  Hatta. The name sank like a stone in the uproar of her mind. She latched on to it, an anchor.

  Hatta! Louder this time, but not enough. Leaves and branches slapped at her as she ran blind through the forest. Twigs stung her face and tugged at her hair. She lifted her hands to guard her head as her legs pumped and her heart hammered. A sudden drop into a ditch took her feet out from under her. She cried out when she hit the ground and tumbled down the incline. She flew off a short overhang and landed in a trench on her side. Agony spiked through her torso. Something hard dug into her hip. Her injured leg felt like little more than wrenched nerves and torn flesh engulfed in hot hurt, but she forced it and her other one under herself. They barely held her weight.

  The Nightmare bellowed as it slammed into the trench behind her. Branches snapped. Rocks tumbled. Alice’s heart jackknifed between her lungs. The monster flailed, trying to regain its feet.

  Her lips pursed, locked between her teeth. Blood coated her tongue, copper sweet. Her scream welled up from her gut, scorched her throat, and nearly knocked her teeth loose as it tore free. “Hatta!” His name echoed through gunk and mud, her mind frantic with fear. He couldn’t hear her. She was too far away from the Gateway.

  She tried to run, but her now-useless leg gave completely. She fell against a boulder lodged in the dirt, barely pushing away in time to avoid being impaled as talons raked along the stone. Sparks flew.

  Scrambling, she rolled in under the Nightmare’s arm and hurled herself at its body. Inky fur stuck wet to her skin as she drove the knife into its belly. The beast howled but couldn’t get at her, not with its movements restricted by the high, close trench walls.

  What looked like tar and smelled like rotting flesh spilled over her hands and forearms as she gritted her teeth, pushing, trying to reach the core with her blade. The Nightmare twisted and turned, finally able to get a swing in. The blow caught her across the face. Stars exploded against the backs of her eyes. Her teeth rattled. She staggered away, her weapon still lodged in the beast. It slapped at the hilt with massive paws.

  Alice’s vision speckled. She dropped to the ground, her ears ringing. Blinking did little to clear the haze over her eyes. Somehow, she saw the knife, saw how it caused the beast pain.

  Hauling herself upright, nearly losing her head to another swipe in the process, Alice gripped a root jutting out from a wall of dirt overhead with both hands and flung her good leg out. Her heel caught the dagger’s hilt like a hammer on a nail and drove it farther into the beast.

  It loosed a wail, tearing at its flesh with one arm, the other trapped by the trench. The knife was too deep and couldn’t be pulled out. The monster bucked and thrashed, putrid pus pouring to the mud beneath it.

  Alice dropped, catching herself against a trench wall, exposed stone scraping her back. She crawled through the muck as the beast flopped and rolled. It shrieked and hissed like a tire losing air.

  Something struck the back of her head, and everything went white. Pain carved out a hitch between her ears. Her hands groped against the cold dirt. She tried to push, but it was like her arms weren’t a part of her body anymore.

  The Nightmare caved in on itself, its tail whipping like a water hose on full blast. She fumbled in her attempt to get up, her hands sliding in mud. She slipped again, and this time when her arm stretched forward, pain burst from her side. She whined, pitching herself onto her back.

  Red stained her ruined shirt below her ribs, hot and warm against her skin. It spread outward from a slice in her flesh. The sight of the wound stole her remaining strength as shivers invaded her limbs, the growing cold wrenching away the last of her control. She wasn’t strong enough, couldn’t do it on her own. She was a helpless little girl again.

  “Ha-Hat…” She tried to call to him again, but the words died on her tongue. Her mind filled with him, the feel of him steadying her as they crossed the Veil. The smell of him, like bourbon and licorice. The sound of his voice, “I’ve got you, luv.”

  Her hand outstretched, blood smeared her fingers. The mark left by the Black Knight nearly glowed in the blue moonlight. Images of her insides blackening before rotting away tumbled over her fractured thoughts. She saw herself shifting, morphing, her body contorting into some hellish beast. She saw her mother curled in bed when she didn’t come home, refusing to eat or drink until she, too, faded away.

  “N-no,” she gasped.

  Nearby, the Nightmare finally stopped writhing, a mere boiling mess shrinking away.

  So was she.

  Shadows danced at the edges of her sight as the voices melded, calling to her.

  “Alice.”

  Leave me alone …

  “Alice.” The call was more insistent this time.

  Fingers latched on to her shoulder. The icy burn beneath her skin roared at the contact. She tried to scream, to fight, but the touch pinned her arms.

  “Alice, open your eyes.”r />
  Her lids fluttered sluggishly.

  “That’s a girl.” A shadowed blob hovered over her. Fingers touched one cheek, then the other, gentle and warm. “You’re burning up.”

  Yet her insides trembled, frozen. “H-Hat … tell … knight…”

  “Shh, don’t try to talk.” The voice was soft, careful.

  Mom?

  Those hands repositioned and pulled, lifting her. “Look at me. Can you look at me?” A pair of eyes blazed white in the haze, sharp where all else blurred, bright where all else dimmed. “Hold on.”

  Something pricked her arm. The ice building in her limbs began to melt in a wave of wet warmth. A weight settled over her body and blanketed her mind. Together, the heat and the heaviness brought the darkness.

  Eight

  AND CURIOUSER

  Alice hadn’t dreamed since becoming a Dreamwalker.

  “One of the prices paid to do what you do,” Hatta explained once.

  Dreams made people vulnerable and simultaneously strengthened the Nightmares. But now, she had to be dreaming. That’s what she told herself as she stood in shadow, surrounded by nothing.

  Emptiness expanded outward, endless in all directions save for a faint glow somewhere beneath her feet. It chased back the black just enough for her to see her hands. A white haze coated them, along with her arms and body.

  It’s me, she realized as her gaze roamed her form. I’m the light. Rather, she wore it.

  Fluid and weightless, the brightness wreathed her body like fabric, stark against her brown skin. The light painted her curves like a luminous corset, with hints of silver and gold streaked in vine-like detail. From there, the glow fell in thin folds forming elegant skirts concealing her legs. She gripped the fabric and lifted.

  Water swirled beneath her bare feet. It tossed and turned, churning with erratic waves. The fitful roll was hypnotizing, almost concealing the fact that something waited beneath the surface, still in the midst of the maelstrom.