Within seconds, the forest had enveloped him. The trip to the abandoned temple had been nerve-wracking enough, but at least he hadn’t been alone. Now though, he was keenly aware of just how isolated he was.

The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint sounds his feet made as they brushed against the thick bed of needles. Progress was slow; the trees had grown so tight together that in many places they formed almost impenetrable walls, but he pushed on, breaking down branches when necessary to form a makeshift path that Kaṣîtūma could follow.

Jasper's trip was uneventful, though. He saw no signs of the dangerous qebrū nor the even more monstrous utukku. Once he thought he heard the faint cry of a child echoing from the woods behind him. The blood in his veins turned to ice as he stood there, paralyzed, but the cry didn’t come again. Must have been my imagination, he consoled himself.

Still, he was beginning to fear that, misled by the twists and turns of the dark forest, he had strayed from his course when he finally broke free into another clearing. The architecture was the same as that of the abandoned village, but the settlement was far smaller. I wonder who lived here? Why not with the others?

About eight houses were clustered in a semi-circle around a small village square dominated by an old well. A large metal rod with a crank attached to it ran across its top, with a few broken chains hanging down from it, but they had long ago lost their buckets. Perhaps the well had been abandoned even before whatever tragedy had consumed this island and its inhabitants, for the top was covered with thick planks firmly bolted in place.

He lurked on the edges of the village for a few minutes, watching from the dense thicket of woods. There was no sign of movement.

When he was satisfied that he was truly alone, he moved. Jasper dashed across the open space, feeling oddly exposed, and looked for a place to set up the supplies Kaṣîtūma had given. He settled on the well.

Putting the meat down, he uncorked the first of the two potions. A sickly sweet smell wafted from the bottle, though he thought he detected just a trace of something bitter hidden within. A poison, maybe? He poured it over the meat, careful to keep his hands away from the liquid, just in case it really was poisonous. Then he opened the second.

In a moment his stomach turned inside out. He narrowly moved his head to the side in time to avoid hurling on the meat. He hit his shoes instead. Yuck. The smell was horrible, pungent beyond anything he had ever had the misfortune to encounter. The only thing he could think to compare it to was a Vietnamese fish sauce an old college roommate of his had loved to cook with. This was definitely worse though. He threw up again, thoroughly emptying his stomach this time.

Then, once his stomach had nothing more to give, Jasper managed to pour the liquid over the meat. It bubbled as it came into contact with the other potion, soaking deep into the meat though, sadly, it did nothing to improve the smell. All that was left for him to do, then, was to affix the strange handcuffs.

Beating them into the cracks of the paving stones was harder than he expected but, eventually, he managed to get both of the manacles standing upright. Examining them closer, he realized they were covered in the same not-rune symbols - glyphs? - that his aunt had sketched out for his weapon, but he saw no way to activate them. Hopefully, they activate themselves. Somehow.

Then, done preparing, he retreated from the small courtyard. Ensconcing himself in a corner of a broken-down home, he hunkered down out of sight and waited on his aunt.

At first, he mistook the sound for the faint rustling of branches in the wind. But the trees were not moving nor, as he realized after a moment, had the unnatural silence of the island been lifted. But something was moving in the forest, hidden just out of sight. Kaṣî? Please be Kaṣî,

Nerves racing, he kept his eyes glued to the trees. Then another sound echoed, from the opposite side of the clearing. Well, unless she failed to mention she could teleport, that’s not her.

Crouching down even lower in the thick grass, he barely dared to peek out. The sounds grew louder, now coming from both sides of the little house he was hiding in until something finally emerged from the trees.

A pale being shuffled out from the trees. Half erect, half scampering on all fours, it paused as it emerged into the clearing. Fully standing up, it sniffed the air.

Still hidden, Jasper could see the being clear enough to recognize it. Its eyes glowed with a familiar red glare, shadowy fangs peaking from between its lips, with wickedly sharp claws extending from its hands. It was a qebru, though much smaller than the ones he’d encountered before. It was only when he saw the shabby cornhusk doll clutched tightly in its fist that he understood. It’s one of the children who were buried here.

Slowly he summoned his essence, a spell forming at the tip of his fingers as he watched the undead child wander around the clearing, stopping regularly to sniff the air. Once or twice it looked in his direction, and he was afraid it had spotted him, but it never came his way. Instead, it circled round and round the tainted piece of meat, clearly entranced but unwilling, for some reason to touch it.

With the appearance of the qebru, Jasper had all but forgotten the second source of sound. Until the wail of a crying child echoed through the air.

For a moment, he thought it had come from the qebru before him. It was, after all, a child. But the qebru was not so simply confused. Starting like a deer, it immediately bolted away from the well, back towards the shelter of the trees. It never got there.

The gallû materialized in front of it. It was exactly as his aunt had described. Glistening in the light of the moon, Jasper could just barely make out the pale, porcelain sheen of its skin. Long blonde hair, unkempt but not ragged, hung loosely around its face, hiding it from view. The qebru froze in its tracks, the doll still clutched tightly in its little arms.

Cocking its head to the side, the gallû stretched out its arm and grabbed hold of the being’s hand. The moment it came into contact with the qebru’s skin, the sound of crying intensified, louder and louder until it filled the air. Wincing, Jasper shrank back, clutching at his ears as the forest’s silence was banished. Then it ceased.

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Hesitatingly, his heart beating with fear, he crept forward to look. The gallû stood alone in the clearing, bathed in the pale light of Selene. There was no sign of the qebru, but a shabby, cornhusk doll lay at its feet. Bending down, the creature picked up the doll. It ran a trembling hand through the cornsilk hair, awkwardly patting it down in place, before cradling it in its own arms.

Jasper held his breath as the little porcelain child wandered across the clearing, afraid to even think. It peered cautiously at the tainted meat but turned away with a shake of its head as if it could sense the poison.

Doesn’t seem as mindless as Kaṣî said.

The instant he thought it, the being swiveled its head to look at him. His aunt’s warning echoed in his mind. RUN! he screamed at himself, but his limbs refused to obey his commands.

Kaṣîtūma had said that the gallû had only empty sockets in place of eyes, but the child staring back at him clearly hadn’t gotten the memo. A pair of all-too-human eyes stared back at him. Dark, chestnut-brown eyes that saw through his hiding place in an instant.

Half-haltingly, the being took a few steps closer as his treacherous body still refused to move, and for the first time, the gallû’s face came into full.

“Jenny?” He whispered. As soon as he said it, he knew it was impossible. She had died long ago, on a different world, in a different universe. The resemblance was there, but there were differences. It wasn’t Jenny, not quite, but he had a hard time believing the resemblance was a mere coincidence. Is it trying to taunt me?

Still, despite his inability to run, the gallû made no move to attack him. It crept within a few feet of him, standing face-to-face with him in silence. Minutes felt like hours as the deadly being stared at him.

Then it swiveled its head around. Cocking its head it stared into the woods for a second before, as suddenly as it appeared, it simply disappeared.

Feeling returned to his body as the gallû left. He was covered in so much sweat his tunic clung to his body like the aftermath of a wet t-shirt contest, and his limbs were shaking like a sapling in a hurricane. But he was alive.

A moment later, he heard what had driven the gallû off. The sounds of boughs breaking and trees groaning echoed from the trees as something smashed through the forest.

“Yas̆peh! You better be ready,” an unseen voice roared. “Use your darkness spell. The cloaking one - whatever it’s called.”

Hands shaking, Jasper released the spell he had prepared as he fought to summon Eternal Night. It took him two attempts, his focus all but shattered by the horrifying encounter, but the spell was waiting on his fingertips when his aunt finally appeared.

Her ice-infused armor sparkled in the moonlight as the elf broke free from the trees. She raced across the clearing, so fast that her feet barely grazed the ground. “Cast it, now,” she screamed.

He released the spell, letting the chilling void of darkness flow over him as she flung herself down beside him. His aunt was shaking, her eyes wide, but she tried to flash him a reassuring smile. “Thanks, that was a little closer than I expected.”

Whatever else she might have said was lost as, barely a second later, her pursuer emerged. A utukku.

The accursed priestess was not as fast as the elf, but she possessed speed in other ways. As if alive, the trees of the forest twisted and squirmed out of her way, opening a path before her as she burst into the clearing.

But there was no sign of her prey, hidden as she was beneath the cloak of Jasper’s spell. Confused, the creature stumbled forward, her movements once again awkward and jerky now that she was no longer running. Her head lolled to the side grotesquely, bouncing with every step she took as she wandered around the ruins.

It did not take the utukku long to notice the offering laid out on the well. Jasper held his breath as she approached the bait, afraid she would shy away. But whatever sixth sense the gallû had possessed that warned them away from the poisoned meat, the utukku did not share.

The shambling priestess circled twice around the offering before drawing near. Then, its movement stiff and jerky, it bent low over the meat. Suddenly its neck opened up, swinging wide as if on a hinge. Row upon row of razor-sharp teeth glinted in the moonlight, many of them entwined with thin, rootlike tendrils as it fell upon the offering, tearing into it like a shark in a feeding frenzy.

Entranced by the utukku, Jasper hadn’t been paying attention to his aunt. But now she stepped forward out of his protective spell. With a flicker of her wrist, she threw two small daggers, so thin and narrow that they were really closer to needles, at the shackles Jasper had planted in the ground.

When the daggers clanked into the shackles the utukku jerked up, immediately alert, but it was already too late. A wave of light spread across the instruments as the glyphs activated. Suddenly growing in length, the shackles slithered the short distance between them and the creature. Then, striking like a viper, they clamped hard around the being’s wrists and ankles.

Pulling back hard, the creature was suddenly pinned down tight against the well. He hadn’t heard the cursed priestess utter any sounds up until then, but now, its screams filled the silent night.

“Quick, help me,” his aunt snapped as she rushed over to the well. It thrashed violently against its restraints, as the stakes that clung to the ground shook suspiciously. “We only have a few minutes before this place will be crawling with them.”

He ran over to help her as she pulled a serrated crescent blade from her pouch. Holding a vial close, she sliced the skin open and let the creature’s blood flow in. The creature’s writhing smashed into her hand, and the vial went flying. It rolled across the pavement stones, landing on its side. Jasper moved to grab it, but she shook her head. “Leave it. Just hold her down,” she said, producing another vial from her pouch.

The moment his hands came into contact with the utukku’s skin, he felt physically ill. If he hadn’t already voided the contents of his stomach, he would have then. Gagging and wheezing, he somehow managed to hold on. The creature was simply too strong for him to truly keep still, but he slowed the worst of her movements long enough for Kaṣîtūma to fill the vial.

Snapping a lid on it, she tossed it in her pouch and turned to leave. “Come-“ She hesitated as her eyes fell on the partially filled vial. “Hold her another minute.” It took but a second for her to reach the spilled vial and, snatching it up, she pressed it again to the being’s flesh, digging in with her dagger.

The screams filled the air and, still a distance off, Jasper could hear howls returned. The others were coming. “We should leave.”

She ignored him, pressing tighter against the flesh. The vial filled, and she tossed it too into the pouch. “Let’s go.”

They had taken perhaps five steps away from the well when it happened. The thick boards that covered the well had stood the test of time for far longer than could have ever been expected. Generations had come and gone since those trees had given their life for those sturdy planks. But they were not built to withstand the thrashing of an utukku.

In a shower of splinters, the wood finally gave way, and as the utukku plunged downward, the stakes binding her pulled free. They stood frozen as they watched the creature disappear down the well shaft, the metal shackles clanging against the old stone dully. The creature’s screams ceased and there was a moment of silence.

Then, a chain spiraled out of the opening. It hung in the air, suspended for a moment, before clanking to the ground. It was the handcuffs.

“Run,” his aunt hissed.

He was already running.