Duskfall

5. True

The Nightshade, unsurprisingly, had no sun. Daytime, as it was, was marked by a bizarre navy and purple miasma that hung in the coal black sky. The glow dialed the total pitch black up to the darkness of, say, a night in the country. Not especially great for navigation, but better than before.

Lia had not powered up again. She told Vigil that it was to further conserve energy. Her transformation was nearly instantaneous. If there was trouble, she could be ready. She'd even placed firm hands on his waist and held him over her head to demonstrate how much of her strength she still retained in her human form. He stared down at her, pupils wide in the dim light, and mumbled his concession to her point.

But the truth was, she wasn't entirely sure that she could change, even if she needed to. Overnight, her accelerated healing had gone to work, and many of the aches and pains that she suspected had been fractures and other more serious injuries had faded. But though she felt slightly better holistically, she was near running on empty. It didn't help that there was nothing around that looked remotely safe for her to eat. Vigil hadn't even bothered mention her stomach growling, though she was certain he'd heard it. Even he probably thought it would be too cruel, given that he didn't need much food himself.

The only good news was that they'd managed to avoid running into any of the patrols Vigil had been worried about. They traveled at a steady pace for the first few hours after "dawn," but as time went on, Vigil slowed. He'd let his corona go out entirely by midday, and a few hours later, even his skin and his bright shock of hair seemed to be fading. Eighteen hours, evidently, had been an optimistic estimate. By her calculations, they only had a few hours of light left, and she would be shocked if, after another night, Vigil wouldn't be entirely dead weight.

Then, they saw it. Vigil's vision was better, and his sharp inhalation signaled Lia. She looked up, straining her eyes, following his line of sight until she saw it too. A jagged spire jutted up in the distance. Not even that distant, Lia realized as they kept moving forward. The visibility was so poor that had she been alone, Lia would practically have tripped over it before noticing it.

"Please tell me that's a waystation," she said.

"It is." He didn't sound particularly happy about it, but Lia was happy enough for the both of them.

"We need to get closer," she said. "Figure out a plan to get inside."

"I don't think that'll be necessary," Vigil replied softly. His corona flared back into life as the first shadehound leaped out of the darkness. Lia ducked under it and Vigil hit it squarely with one glowing fist. It yelped and limped back a few paces. Lia gave it a stiff kick while it was still off balance. It went down, but another took its place. Bracing herself, Lia changed.

Or rather, she tried. The buzzing current of power under her skin was replaced by crippling pain. Her muscles twitched wildly, her skin turning blue in blotches. She had been right to doubt. There wasn't enough left in her to change. She let go, the pain stopped, and she fell, hard, to the ground. Underneath her, shadows rose and wound around her limbs. She could feel the unnatural burn of them even through the reinforced microfiber of her uniform.

Shadereavers stood on either side of Vigil. His corona flickered, erratic, as he looked at her with desperate eyes. The reavers began to speak: sibilant whispers and creaking, scratching sounds that rang through the air. One spoke, another responded. Vigil's eyes widened, shocked and desolate, and his corona blinked out leaving him dull and faded in the sickly purple glow of the day. The shadows engulfed him right before they rose up around Lia's head and blocked out all else.

The barest bits of light returned when the Shadereavers dropped Lia and Vigil in a cell. It wasn't, in essentials, much different than their cave had been. Transparent globes held little puffs of the sky miasma on either wall, enough so that Lia could make out Vigil's profile and the outline of her own body as they sat on the floor. It was smaller too than the cave; there was barely a foot of space between them as they leaned against opposite walls. Her legs, stretched out, were scant inches from touching the door.