“Sweet, Saints,” Aldric said in front of me, and for once the twins had stopped their whispers.

The Crim headmaster gestured Chrisser toward the Healer, and the boy seemed to come to himself enough to stumble in that direction. He fell before reaching the overlarge man, and so the awakened was forced to bend over him to administer care. The air around the Healer’s hands glowed a sunny yellow as he called forth the power of his order and then a matching yellow glow enveloped Chrisser’s hand and even probed other parts of the boy. No sooner had the light appeared, then the magic vanished in sparkling motes, and the Healer helped Chrisser to his feet. The four fingers of his left hand were still gone but they had skin covering them and the spilled blood had disappeared.

The boy wiped his face with the arm of his sleeve, looking scared and humiliated. I didn’t get to see his reaction long though because some of the townsfolk from the gauntlet moved over to him. Not all of them, as his injury would stop him from performing some tasks. However, while Chrisser was no longer whole, he had survived the ordeal and could still have a life in town.

It was something.

The girl after Chrisser, Holry, stood longer in front of the doorway, her hesitation certainly caused by what she had just witnessed. But I knew her to be not only funny but strong of conviction, so I wasn’t surprised when she eventually leapt into the portal.

Our headmaster was droning through his second count of ten when someone in a bluish-gray cloak approached our line.

“Hey now,” I heard Tamra say, who was now in the lead position. “The gauntlet is over.”

Aldric also perked up at the words, but I called to them both. “It’s fine,” I said, motioning the newcomer closer. I stepped back as I did, to the disgruntled whispers of Oph and Orm, making space in front of me.

“Maphen,” I said, when the cloaked figure had taken the new spot in front of me. “Took you long enough.”

He flashed a roguish grin underneath his cowl.

“Timing is everything. I’ve told you that on more than one occasion.”

“As you say,” I allowed. I didn’t know Maphen as well as I did my brothers and sisters in the Crim, but somehow an accidental meeting followed by a one-sided sparring session had created a bond that managed to rival those I had spent years cultivating.

Holry didn’t emerge, so it was Tamra’s turn now.

She turned to us and said verbatim what she had always claimed she would: “See you on the other side, boys.” She even managed the wink she had planned, somehow not looking worried in the slightest. Then she sprinted into the doorway.

“I’m strongly considering that forager girl right about now,” Aldric said as he shuffled into the lead position.

“Truly?” Maphen said in front of me. The two had never met before, but I had also never seen Maphen be shy around anyone. “You could deny the pull of your soul? I’m not sure how those who left the line already can live with themselves.”

Aldric looked around the cloak that separated us, clearly annoyed. “Who is this, Sett, and what is he on about?”

“The count is up,” I told him, for Turplane had counted all the way up to ten for Tamra without her reappearing.

“Sheol take it,” Aldric said turning back around. He walked toward the portal with a jerky, forced gait.

“Think he’ll make it?” Maphen asked me, leaning slightly back to do so.

“If he doesn’t, Tamra will have his hide.”

Maphen laughed. “Will she now? The red-head, I assume? I’ll have to introduce myself in the tower.”

My friend’s confidence was no shock to me, but I was only listening to him with half an ear. Closer to the door now, I swore I could see something lurking on the other side, waiting for Aldric. I instantly associated the dim form with the demons I’d seen in the Crim’s bestiary books: it stood twice as tall as a man with limbs that bent the wrong direction, and had a wide, crescent-shaped head.

I was still trying to decide if I should shout a warning to him, when Aldric managed to throw himself into the doorway with a yell. Unlike with those before him, I could see him take a few steps into the foggy entry. He certainly saw the demon now, for he tried to run around the hulking beast. Almost lazily, the hazy shadow reached out, slashing him across the chest with obscenely long, razor sharp nails. Aldric stumbled from the attack, still managing to keep some of his previous momentum, tripping forward. As if his steps had gone one too far into the shifting whiteness for me to follow, he vanished.

“Maphen,” I said, having trouble finding my voice. “Did you see –”

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“Don’t worry,” he interrupted me. He turned his head enough over his shoulder that I could see half of his face. “Just follow me in. Easy enough. Besides, you promised me a rematch, didn’t you?”

I said that every time I lost to him, which was every time we sparred. But his easy grin coaxed a hollow nod from me. Then he was walking away, meaning Turplane had finished his count for Aldric--I hadn’t even heard.

I stepped forward numbly to the first position, watching the demon I now knew was the cause of Chrisser’s injury. Had Holry made it past the creature, or Tamra? What of Aldric? Was he bleeding out in the space between the town and inside of the tower? Nothing of this had been in the headmaster's talks of the portal, only a danger we must face or flee.

Nearly to the entrance, Maphen surprised me by turning around. His eyes caught mine and he jerked his head in a clear indication I should follow. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Turplane frown at Maphen’s cheery, unorthodox behavior – and also most likely because he didn’t recognize the boy. Maphen shocked me again by not bothering to turn round to finish the trip, so that he entered the tower in a backward stroll.

Like with Aldric, I managed to see some of Maphen while he was within the gate, and my sight of the creature who loomed behind him remained unchanged. The demon seemed even less fond of the cloaked boy’s gall than Turplane had, actually taking a step forward and raising a clawed hand high.

This time I couldn’t stay silent. “Maphen, look out!”

I’m not sure if he heard me, but if he did it didn’t help because the demon brought a hardened nail as long as a sword down on Maphen’s shoulder. The claw severed the limb, dropping Maphen’s left arm into the mist where it vanished.

Unlike Chrisser, Maphen didn’t cry out. Instead, he grinned, turning around and charging straight at the demon. The creature moved faster than I could have guessed, contemptuously slashing its nails across, severing Maphen’s head from his neck. The rest of Maphen’s body fell to the side, vanishing just as his arm and head had.

I stood frozen, unable to understand what I had just seen.

“Next,” Turplane wheezed.

“Go on,” Oph said behind me. Or maybe it was Orm. The twins sounded nearly identical despite Oph being a girl and Orm a boy.

When I still didn’t move, Turplane squinted in my direction. “Sett? What are you doing, lad? Either enter or leave. The choice is yours, but you must make it now.”

A seamstress called out that she could use my unharmed hands in her shop, and something about that finally pushed me into movement. I walked forward, barely conscious of it, my eyes unable to look away from the demon who waited for me.

Reaching the shifting fog, I felt its coolness caress my skin. I took a deep breath and the coolness filled my lungs, too, energizing me. The presence of the demon was understandable in a way, since I knew at least one of the sacred Orders used their power to enslave the evil things, but what I could not fathom was how Maphen had acted. He was easily the best fighter I had ever faced, and I had grown up with fifty-one sparring partners, not to mention skilled instructors like Himra and Welden. Why would such a natural warrior run toward a superior enemy after being grievously injured? There was something I was missing, but I couldn’t see any way of figuring it out without putting myself into the same situation.

I stepped into the fog, leaving Misfell behind and entering fully into the world the demon occupied. Within, the space looked much the same as it had without, rolling fog coming up to my waist and all around, so thick I couldn’t see through it in most places. However, the demon was clear in front of me, its coloring very similar to the shifting mist and no eyes on its crescent head I could spot, making it seem even more otherworldly.

“What do you want?” I said, trying the first tack I could think of. I clearly felt myself speak the words, but the sound of them never reached my ears. I grimaced. Obviously, this was not a trial we were meant to talk our way out of. Next, I shifted to the left and then to the right, feeling with my feet to see if they encountered Maphen’s body since my eyes couldn’t pierce the fog. I found nothing, and though it lacked eyes, the demon’s crescent head followed my movement, seemingly ready for either way I might run.

I sprinted to the right. The place I was in seemed to have no walls or limits, so I would just run well beyond the creature and then cut inward. It was a simple tactic, but should allow me to –

I was running full out, but with a shock I realized that my position in relation to the demon hadn’t changed. Apparently there were bounds to this place even if I couldn’t see them, so I stopped my pointless sprint, not wanting to waste any more of my energy.

The creature tilted its head at me as I paused to consider my next plan, and then, suddenly it was in front of me, three of its clawed fingers plunging into my gut. I gasped at the unexpected impact, like someone had knocked the air out of me, but so much worse. Liquid bubbled in my throat, and I coughed, feeling wetness dribble down my lip.

The massive demon pulled its arm back, and I was pulled with it, impaled on its talons, but that tugging pain was nothing compared to when the creature flicked its hand, flinging me off and into the swirling mist. Its blade-like nails hadn’t exited my body straight like they had entered, and I felt cut from groin to chest. I couldn’t see my arms in front of me, but looking over my shoulder in fear, I could still see the demon.

I expected it to step in for the kill, but instead its back was to me, as if I no longer held any importance. I coughed again, more wetness spraying into the fog. My mind tried to put thoughts together through the pain of my ripped body. I wasn’t that far from the entryway. I could crawl back out and be healed. I could survive.

Despite these thoughts, my unseen hands pulled me forward, farther into the tower instead of away. My legs soon joined in the effort, scrabbling pitifully behind me but still creating some movement. I could feel my lifeblood pouring out of my split belly, and my rational thoughts told me that I was crawling to my death, but in the deepness of my soul, a single word resonated through my being: onward.

I used my elbows to drag my body along. Onward. Bloody spittle dripped from a mouth I couldn’t spare the energy to close. Onward. I fell to my stomach, agony exploding from my belly outward, but my knees pushed from behind, sliding me along the ground and only adding to my suffering. Onward.

I wouldn’t be left behind. Not again. Never again.