Instincts told him there were more, and they’d be coming soon enough. Better if he could get the jump on them.

Ren sat where he could see the cave opening, a black hole that called to him. He pulled his final talisman from his pocket, pushed Qi into the reservoir and linked it to a trigger script. Settling into a three chamber meditation, he reached out to the night once more and allowed Aether to flow into him, the shadow wrapped around his spirit breathed with him and together they refined the energy into Qi till his dantian was brimming with all the power he could contain. His body ached. Not just from the physical toll of running and fighting and slamming into that giant, but a tingling sting of strain in his meridians. Every active push of Qi through his channels burned and grated. But the darkness clung to him easily enough. He could do this. One last push.

One of the watch fires was almost dead thanks to the corpse that had smothered it. Ren passed by that one as he approached the cave mouth along the base of the rock face.

Pausing by the opening, he heard nothing. Silence. The drip of water into a puddle. He pushed his Qi into a partial Silver Fox Meditation to open his hearing and crept around the corner.

His heart hammered with both fear and excitement. The rage that sustained him had settled from roaring fire to glowing ember. But the coals held more heat than the flame.

One hundred fifty men and women who he’d worked beside, lived beside, laughed beside, fought beside, marched beside, ate beside. Gone, for what? Greed?

He paused at a corner. In the distance, whimpering. Faint.

Snapping. Crunching. Sounded like bone.

Footsteps close. Distorted by a few turns of rock.

“Where are those bastards? Aren’t they done already?”

“You go check. You know the boss doesn’t like us all gone at the same time.”

“Why don’t you fuckin do it, eh?”

“Cuz I’m not a little bitch like you.”

A sigh. Muttering.

Ren turned the corner and slapped his talisman on the wall, then stood in front of it and to the side. He held the remote activation script between his palm and the bow.

A set of footsteps approached. Only one turn away now.

Ren fitted his arrow to the string.

The man rounded the bend and stopped. Ren drew back slowly and gave the sentry time to process what he was seeing.

“What the-”

Ren fired, catching the man right in the mouth. The body fell with a clatter and running footsteps approached. He pierced the activation script with a needle of Qi and it burned away in his hand.

The moment the three incoming bandits rounded the bend the talisman went off. Blinding white light flashed in rapid bursts plunging the cavern into strobing chaos.

Thirty paces. One man stopped, covering his face with his hand and Ren nailed the two together with an arrow.

Twenty paces. The second arrow scraped a breast plate.

Ten paces. The third slid off a helm.

Five paces. The fourth pushed through mail and the man collapsed, tripping his companion. Ren dropped his bow and leapt on them with Hamsa’s knife. The blade scraped down a metal collar and he cut his hand on the edge of a helm. But he didn’t stop, plunging in any armor gap he could find till the flashing light died down and he was bathed in darkness again, the torches buried under their bearers.

Even as his eyes adjusted, he could sense the space, and reached for his bow before stalking forward. Adrenaline pumped through his limbs and his whole body shook with it, but his steps were sure.

He came to a four way intersection. Straight ahead was the whimpering. To the left, the overwhelming stench of rot. To the right, flickering light and a familiar voice.

It really didn’t matter. If the Black Claw was in here, he was going to die anyway.

Ren headed toward the light.

*****

“So, what is your rank anyway? Captain? Major? Commander?” the boss smiled down at his prisoner. Without the shackles, he knew this man could kill him. Even with those injuries. All the more reason why he would prefer cooperation rather than just feeding the man to his pet to strengthen it further. How long till that collar stopped being able to contain the beast? If he could learn the man’s cultivation secrets… “Come on, drink some water. Eat some bread. I’m trying to be nice here. You help me. I help you.”

The man spat on the floor but didn’t look up.

“Hey, these are nice rugs! Someone paid a lot of money for them, show a little respect.”

“Respect?” The man looked up. “What is there to respect? Thief. Murderer. Thug. Your very existence shits on the graves of all who came before you. Pathetic.”

“You think you can get me riled up with insults?” He stood and grabbed the man’s glaive from where it leaned against the wall, spinning it around, then batting the cup and plate away from his guest.

“What? Are you going to torture me now?” The prisoner smiled. “A little pain and hunger–even death is a fair price to pay to deny a dog like you.”

The boss sighed. Why did military folks have to be such a pain in the ass? “Very good. Keep your honor—” he peered closer at the insignia on the man’s uniform and guessed “—Commander. We’ll see what your honor counts for when it isn’t your pain on the line.” He winked then called out, “bring the girls in, King’s-Ear. We can start with the mad one.”

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He took deep satisfaction in the poorly suppressed twitch of his prisoner’s jaw.

No response.

*****

Ren fired at the hulking man in the carpeted room as soon as he rounded the corner, but the man looked up and his hand blurred into motion, batting aside the arrow.

They both froze. Eyes locked.

The man had a red silk bandage wrapped around his head, covering his right eye. But even so, his face was not one Ren would ever forget. Basher.

“Do I…” Recognition flashed across the thug’s face. “The little street-rat, right? Well, come on. You waiting for a speech or something? Put that little twig launcher to use.”

Ren’s mind lurched into motion along with a surge of cold fury from his inner shadow. Hungry hate crawled to the tip of his arrow, almost unbidden, and he fired.

The brute’s hand blurred again, catching the arrow only to let go with a hiss, opening his palm to find a dark gash. “I guess you’ve got some tri-”

Ren fired again and again, as fast as he could, but Basher deflected every shot with his steel vambraces, dropping the glaive he held so he could use both hands while he closed the distance.

Ren dropped the bow and drew the sword halfway out before a stone-hard fist crashed into his side and sent him slamming into the wall. He gasped for breath, looking up at the smiling nightmare from his past.

“Meal time!” Basher whistled.

He was answered by a growl that shook the floor.

Ren reached desperately for the shadow, for the darkness, for anything, but the room was too bright, and he was too weak to fight these monsters anyway. His insides felt like soup and tangy blood dribbled from his mount.

Though his meridian’s screamed, he activated the Silver Fox Meditation just as massive black claws padded into the chamber. A jagged scar on its side told him what he’d feared since he first saw the signs near Farming Complex 34-B. It was bigger than he remembered. Almost the size the Alpha had been. But this was definitely the one he’d let get away.

It moved strangely as it stalked over to him. Like it was fighting every step. Its eyes held the same petrifying hunger and hatred, but also a cold, tortured defiance. It took its time, apparently aware of the fear that bound his limbs.

The beast looked back to Basher, and that’s when he saw it–a collar of dark metal engraved with circuits of blue glowing Aether.

“Go on,” said Basher. “What are you waiting for?”

Ren reached back and pulled a black fletched arrow from his back. The wolf caught the motion and turned to him, growling. It leaned in slowly, unhurried, savoring his terror. Jaws larger than his head opening, hot breath, rancid stink-

He drove the bone arrowhead into the collar.

Clang

Again.

Clang

The shaft disintegrated and fell from his hand. Runework flickered and guttered out. Their eyes met. Two beasts of the hunt. Two creatures that disdained chains.

It turned and leaped at its former master. Basher caught it with a glowing fist, and bone cracked, but its claws continued, stretching out to rend his flesh.

Ren stood on shaky feet and ran to the commander, chipping away at the manacles with a bone arrowhead.

He froze when the sound of struggle behind him ceased. Commander Narwalla shoved him hard enough he toppled back to the center of the room, barely missing the blade of the glaive lying in the middle of the floor. He turned in time to see the wolf rip Basher’s throat free of his body.

“My weapon,” called the commander. Ren grabbed the glaive and tossed it over.

The Black Claw ignored Ren as it approached the officer. The man’s chains were secured to the wall. He had nowhere to run.

“Taste my steel, beast.” He brandished his weapon and snarled. His wounds opened and blood poured down his side.

The wolf circled, drawing back as sudden thrusts sliced through its hide.

The commander might’ve been weakened and immobilized, but he was clearly a master of his art.

Ren grabbed his bow and drew another bone-tipped arrow. He lined it up with the gap under the beast’s armpit. A lung shot if it pierced far enough.

Thwap

The arrow splintered like the others had, but as the splinters fell away, a bleeding wound was revealed. The beast roared, rearing back and turning to face Ren. His heart stopped in its gaze.

“Noooooo!” bellowed the commander, throwing his glade like a javelin. It flew straight and true and pierced into the Black Claw’s neck with the full depth of its blade, sticking clear through to the other side.

The beast turned back to the chained warrior and gurgled. Then it leapt, slashing his armor open in a spray of blood and landing on him bodily.

It gurgled again, then went still.

Ren rushed over and pulled, and tugged and pushed and wrestled the huge carcass off the officer.

Blood ran from Narwalla’s mouth, his eyes distant. “Save… the others…”

Those were his last word, no matter how hard Ren beat his bloody chest, or begged.

Ren’s insides became a storm, and shadows began to twist and warp and stretch through the cavern.

The pain was too great.

The shadow hissed in wrathful hunger. More blood. More. More. He just needed to let go, just a little more, and it could take all the pain away. It was inevitable. He should just give up. Just surrender.

A giggle burst from behind him and Ren spun and launched, knife drawn.

The blade froze against the soft skin of a dirty neck. And Ren’s eyes met those of the intruder. His blade pressed against her flesh drawing blood, thirsting for more.

Kill them all. The shadow’s voice was clearer now. Smooth and enchanting.

Her eyes were a shining amber brown. No fear. He pressed the blade harder against her throat and she smiled. Why wasn’t she afraid? Something was wrong in her eyes.

Shadows are the place where secrets are kept. Like his anger had been. Like his hate. Like his power. He peered into the darkness behind her eyes, beyond the broken doll glee of her gleaming gaze.

The air in his lungs froze as memories that were not his own—images of cruel, dirty faces; and the stink of unwashed bodies and blood and rot; and the sound of screams and slapping flesh; and the taste of tears and-; and the pain of intrusion, of violation and fear and helplessness; horrors he wished he’d never seen, should never have seen, never have felt—they crashed upon him and he stumbled back and gasped and saw.

She’d been the daughter of an overseer. The gem and pride of her family. She’d been engaged. Till she watched them feed her betrothed to the wolf. Piece by piece. Then watched herself disintegrate, piece by piece. Till torture upon torture flayed her soul and she cracked, like a vase left too long in the kiln. And now she was pieces. But still there was love. It was the only answer she’d found. Abandon the body and cling to the light. Laugh and find the pleasure in the pain.

Her agony buried his anger. The light that shone through the cracks in her broken vessel pushed the darkness back.

And he breathed.

He looked at the bodies, at the wet stains on the carpet and the stone walls, at the blood on his hands. Doubts and questions and regrets rose up to crush him. But now was not the time.

The commander had made a final wish.

*****

Kareem was a fool. He’d dared to hope when he heard the shouting and fighting. But a deep growl had reminded him of the truth. Whatever hope existed in this world had abandoned him the moment he joined Cloud Company 7.

He didn’t bother to stir when the door to his cell opened to bring upon him fresh torments. He’d thought they would have waited for at least a day before taking the next finger. But maybe it was better if they just got it over with.

“Kareem?” A young voice. Ragged, but familiar. He looked up.

“Ren? Did they capture you too?” No, that didn’t make sense. And why was the air around him so dark?

The forester said nothing, just extended a hand.

Kareem took it.