While they talked, the priestess continued to crouch just outside the protective bubble. Her glowing eyes were riveted to theirs, filled with an unblinking, unyielding hatred. And as much as Jasper tried to come up with a plan to deal with her once the shield fell, no real options presented themselves. She nearly killed S̆arrābī - what chance did he have against her? Just got to distract her long enough for Ihra to escape.

But the priestess's unyielding stare was finally broken when the sound of a child’s cry echoed amidst the smoldering trees. Immediately, her head swiveled away, searching for the source of the sound.

The cry echoed again, and Jasper's blood ran cold. It's the gallû. But why?

“What’s that?” Ihra started to ask, but he shushed her.

The cry grew closer as the pale figure of a porcelain-skinned child wandered out of the ruined forest. The three of them froze as she approached, her footsteps clattering over the rocky pebbles.

Then, in a blur of frantic limbs, the priestess bolted from the beach, abandoning her trapped quarry. The gallû made no move to intercept the utukku, ignoring it in favor of casually approaching them.

“What's a little girl doing here?” Ihra asked, unable to see in the darkness that the child's skin was unnatural.

“That’s not a little girl,” he managed to choke out as the being slowly approached them. It was the same one as before. The doll she had stolen from the qebru child was clutched tight in her fist, and her face still resembled Jenny’s. He felt a surge of anger against the being for stealing her face, but it was quickly snuffed out by overwhelming fear.

Stopping in front of them, she reached out her little hand to touch the shield. As her chubby finger traced the outline of the glowing runes, the shield flickered, then went out.

For a moment, the two stood frozen, staring at the child. She stretched her hand out to him, and he tried to shrink back, but his treacherous body refused to budge. Closer and closer her hand came to him, only to pause so close to his skin that he doubted anything more than slip of her paper could have been slid between.

He could feel the endless, unyielding cold of the void radiating out from her as she looked him in the eye. Why is she hesitating?

The hand withdrew and he flinched as a high-pitched giggle broke the silence of the night. The girl bent down and, in a small patch of sand between the rocks, traced the outline of a large paw. Then clutching the doll tightly to her chest, the gallû wandered back into the forest, leaving the two of them on their knees, petrified.

“What the hell was that,” Ihra finally managed to gasp out, when the last sign of the not-child had disappeared into the trees.

He stumbled to his feet as his body came to life again. “I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care. Let’s not wait around to find out if she comes back to finish us off.”

Realizing the Spectral Wing spell had finally run its course, he cast it on the two of them again. His uncle’s skin was paler than Jasper had imagined possible, but he stirred weakly in his arms as Jasper scooped him up, reassuring him that he was still alive. Slowly lurching into the sky, with his uncle propped up between them, the pair headed out toward the boat, finally leaving the accursed island behind. He could only hope that the rest had made it back in safety.

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Ihra’s arms were tingling with pain by the time they finally drew close enough to the ship to actually make out a handful of black forms dancing across the deck. Good, they made it. She shifted uncomfortably, struggling to keep her hold on the dead weight sagging over her crooked arm. Selene’s Grace, how bloody heavy is his uncle.

She cast a glance down at the still unconscious Djinn, who was so heavy she could have sworn he was carved from a solid block of granite. Just a little further.

Jasper had it worse than her, his breath coming hard and fast as he continually shifted and reshifted his uncle's weight. He wasn’t exactly a weakling, but strength wasn't much of a priority for a mage. Or at least, most mages - judging from his uncle's weight, the Djinn must have put a substantial amount of points into the category.

As they flew closer to the ship, her eyes narrowed. Two, five… There were too many forms on the ship, far too many. She bit back a curse, forcing herself to remain calm. “Jasper, I think we have a problem.”

The next few minutes proved her right. As the ship came into view, the gentle light of the moon illuminated a small ring of fighters. Standing back to back around the body of a woman - Jasper’s aunt, no doubt - the crew and S̆anukkat were fending off the attacks of a small horde of monsters. How did they get on the boat? She shook her head, willing herself back into focus. It doesn’t matter.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

They weren’t utukku at least - they were far too small for that - but whether they were qerbū or something else was hard to tell in the darkness.

“What’s the plan?” She yelled over to Jasper.

“Well, I’ve still got some essence left, so I could fly overhead and strafe them with my fire spells.

"You know the boat’s made of wood, right?"

"You don't think it's fireproof?" he called back.

On reflex, Ihra tried to shrug. Her shoulder, weighed down by the Djinn didn't move, though she nearly lost her grip on the unconscious man in the process. Once she'd stabilized her hold, she finally answered. "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but it's a hell of a gamble?"

After a moment, Jasper sighed. "Crap, you're right. I don't know how far away we are from the capital, but I’m pretty confident we're too far away to swim.”

Ihra agreed; now that the worst of the fog had cleared, she could see the lights of the city on the edge of the horizon, but they certainly didn’t look very close. Plus, as everyone knew, distances over water could be deceptive.

Jasper shifted his uncle’s weight again. This time, though, his hand slipped, and his uncle tumbled out of his grasp. Ihra’s arm was nearly yanked out of its sockets, her shoulder screaming in agony as the full weight of the ponderous Djinn dragged her down. Somehow, she managed to hold on and prevent the unconscious man from falling into the waters. It only took a second for Jasper to regain his hold, but it was one of the longest seconds of her life.

“Sorry,” he barked out, sheepishly. “Anyways, I think I better stick with my non-fire spells, which means I’ve got to get up close. Drop him on the deck, and I’ll land.”

She nodded in understanding. “Got it.”

The handful of fighters on the deck didn’t even dare to look up as the two swooped low overhead. “Now,” he shouted, and Ihra let go, gasping with relief as the onerous weight was lifted from her aching shoulders. Rising up into the air, her bow was already drawn taut as she turned to face the deck.

Jasper had timed it well. Lord S̆arrābī plummeted like a rock straight toward the deck, landing with a crash in the center of the circle, next to his wife.

A second crash followed swiftly as Jasper accelerated into the deck, squashing a child-sized qebru beneath him like a bug. A pang of pity plucked at her heart, but Ihra brushed it away, forcing herself to focus. Whatever blasphemy had caused these poor souls to rise was a tragedy, but they weren’t children now. They were monsters. Giving them death would be a mercy.

Her hands flickered like lightning as she fired one arrow after another, doing her best to avoid Jasper, who was dancing around outside the ring with a short sword in one hand and his spectral whip in the other. His specters had joined the fight, but it wasn’t enough to even the odds.

She rained down volley upon volley, eschewing careful aim for speed. It wasn’t like she was going to run out of arrows. The blows added up, and with it, her piercing rose quickly, but the damage was less than she could hope for. An arrow through the head would put down a human pretty quickly; for an undead child, it was a minor inconvenience. If only I had my rune still, she thought bitterly, remembering the poison rune she had finally, painstakingly carved into her flesh only to immediately have to sacrifice it.

She choked the thought immediately. There was no need for regret. If she hadn’t sacrificed the rune for the Aegis of Ayyālu, they would have all died. It was the right decision. Still, without the rune, she was a poor match-up for the monsters.

From time to time, little flashes of ice magic would strike out from the ring of the crew, impaling one of the qerbū - probably the daughter, she figured - but the rest of the crew were struggling simply to fend the attacks off. Turtled up, they were surviving, but barely making an impact.

Jasper, though, was making a quick impression. Her arrows might not be doing a good job of killing the creatures, but they sufficed to give him an opening. He followed her shots like a woodland trail, taking advantage of the qerbū's momentary flinch when they were hit to sever one head after another. But it was coming at a cost. The deck was quickly growing red, and it wasn’t coming from the crew. A dozen open wounds crisscrossed his face and arms, torn open by the razor-sharp claws of the monsters. She wasn't sure how long he could keep it.

Damn it. Wake up! She wanted to scream at the unconscious couple, guarded by the crew, but what was the point? It's not as if they can hear me. Her hands flew faster than ever and her movements became almost frantic as she tried to pin the swarming beasts down, cursing her inability to do serious damage.

Then, as if in response to her inner screams, one of the bodies lying on the deck lurched upright. In the confusion, Ihra couldn't see who it was, but the enormous blasts of ice that suddenly broke through the ring of crew made it clear enough. Lady Kaṣitūma. In a matter of seconds, she had forced the frenzied qerbū away from the others, skewering half a dozen in place with large, icy shards. For a second, the qerbū drew back, intimidated by the display of power, and the elf took the opportunity afforded to her. Leaping out of the ring, she grabbed Jasper by the arm and pulled him back to the rest. Then she cast an icy dome.

With the brutal attacks suddenly gone, the qerbū once again sprang into action, hammering and beating at the protective shield. Ihra tried pelting them with arrows, but as the only one still attacking them, the qerbū simply ignored her. Redoubling their attacks, the shield began to flicker. What's she playing at? The shield's going to collapse at any minute.

But she had underestimated the older elf.

As Ihra watched, the hundreds of intricately carved lanterns that lined the ship begin to flicker in unison. Once, twice, five times. Then they exploded in a shower of icy water that washed over the entire ship from bow to stern. The icy shield collapsed beneath the tsunami of water, and most of the qerbū were dragged overboard. Those that remained, waterlogged and clinging desperately to whatever support they could latch on to were frozen a moment later as Kaṣitūma stepped out of the ring. In a single moment, the battle was over.

Ihra sighed in relief. Selene's Grace, that was close. Sheathing her bow, she began her descent toward the deck, eager to check in on Jasper. It was at that moment, that her spectral wings finally dissipated, plunging her straight into the freezing waters. It just wasn’t her night.