Potter's Field

Chapter Sixteen/Part Nine: Nicore

Harley caught him before Mars tumbled over from walking unaided on his injured leg.  He looked up.  “Eachy?”  Harley echoed, narrowing his eyes at the approaching figure.  It was dripping wet, as if it had just taken a swim, its soggy, brown rags hanging limply. 

            Nicore reached them in a matter of seconds, pausing for a second at the edge of the cleared circular area made by the blast before jumping at least ten feet forward right in front of the magician.  It reached for the boy, but he stumbled away and kicked it.  Nicore jumped back, avoiding it easily.

            “What is that?” the boy asked, panicked, as he threw a freezing spell at the Eachy.

             Nicore dodged the weak spell, running up along the side of a fallen bookcase on all fours.  Harley heard a squeak and saw the lizard through a slit as it ducked down, trying to avoid the Eachy. 

Nicore jumped at the magician so quickly, he didn’t have time to throw another spell.  Grabbing his throat, it pulled him close enough to stare straight in his eyes.  Mars couldn’t see the Eachy’s face, but judging by the look of pure terror on the boy’s face, it wasn’t a friendly sight.  Panicked, the magician threw a small fire spell that enveloped both he and the Eachy in blue flames.  Nicore didn’t seem to even notice, still staring intently at his face.

            “Call it off, Mars,” he yelled, struggling to turn away from Nicore.  “Please.”

Finally, the Eachy seemed to make a decision, and, leaning down, latched its mouth on top of the boy’s.  He struggled for a second, arms flailing wildly at the Eachy as he tried to pull away.  Suddenly, he went limp, and the Eachy tugged its mouth away, a thin wisp of ghostly white trailing from its lips.

Silver appeared quite suddenly, as if she’d popped out of the air.  Coughing and shaking her head against the sudden, roaring pain of her broken nose, she tugged the limp body away from the Eachy and pulled the fuzzy form of Randall over.  The chain was already fading away.  “In you go,” she muttered as she shoved his ghostly mouth over his body’s mouth.  As soon as his lips touched his own, he winked out of her sight, disappearing, hopefully into his own body.  Unable to lift it any longer, Silver let the body tumble to the ground.  Falling to her knees, she grabbed hold of the limp boy’s wrist, feeling for a pulse.

Everything was absolutely still for a long moment, only the sound of their harsh breathing filling the room.  The Eachy turned its head away from Silver and the limp body that had housed the madman’s soul, its hands still curled as it held the madman’s throat.  It dropped its hands to its side and started toward Mars. 

“Nicore,” Silver called out hoarsely through her heavy nosebleed.  She half turned, her hand still wrapped around the boy’s wrist.  “Wait.”

The Eachy jerked its head toward Silver as if just then noticing her presence, though she’d been the one to tug the boy’s body away.  It hunched its shoulders warily and took a step back.  Dropping the boy’s wrist, Silver pushed herself unsteadily to her feet and staggered a couple steps toward the Eachy, stopping a few feet away.  She leaned forward, but when the Eachy took a step back, Silver stopped her movement and just smiled tiredly.  “Thank you, Nicore.”

It stared for a long moment at Silver before suddenly reaching up and brushing a sunken, gray hand across her silver bang, which had started to sag out of its braid.  It pulled back suddenly and jumped back, turning and racing easily across the toppled bookcases until it reached the spiral staircase and, climbing up the outer railing like some sort of demented monkey, disappeared into the mansion above.