The Weaver's Source

Chapter 101

I hummed, trying to ignore the churning in my stomach at the idea of facing another witch. I glanced up at Grigore, eyeing the crooked bridge of his nose and dark eyes, the only parts of him not covered in fur. I had Grigore with me this time. She couldn't hurt me. I was safe.

*

I stared up at the sky. It was black. Not a normal inky black where the moon was too dark to brighten the night sky. It was pitch black. A void of any colour. No stars. No clouds. Nothing.

I looked down. The road before me was familiar. It was the one that lead into the square dotted with rickety stands filled with food and furs. But the road was different. The brown mud had been churned up by boots, hooves and wheels and frozen solid by the cold and snow. It wasn't quite right. It seemed to bubble and pop and a large reddish stains were dotted everywhere.

I stared at the collapsing houses and the remains of those that had fallen. Some were flickering as fire engulfed them, belching black smoke and golden ash. Some had broken windows, rotting doors and webs covering the bending wooden walls. All were empty.

I was curious as to where all the people were until a hand grasped my shoulder. I turned, smiling in welcome, but that smile twisted into horror. A rotten hand gripped my shoulder and the woman's face was green from rot and was falling away from her face, showing her jaw, crooked teeth and muscle. She stared at me with grey dead eyes, opening and closing her jaw in clicks as if to speak. I stepped away, violently ripping myself from her grasp. I vaguely recognised the woman as Olga but only barely. I heard footsteps behind me, shuffling and groans. I turned around sharply and felt a wave of cold fright swamp me.

The villagers shambled towards me. All were dead and rotting with their faces gone or their heads littering the bloody road. Some had barely any skin and were just raw skeletons. Others lacked limbs or flesh around their gut so their innards hung out, trailing behind them in a horrible mess. And each one came closer, step by step.

I desperately looked for a way to run and saw a gap among the trees. I fled, running fast, evading the rotting fingers and bones that scrapped at the air, trying to grasp a scrap of flailing cloth or lock of hair. I ran though, charged through the snow, not paying attention to where I was going.

Soon the shambling dead were left behind and I was amongst the trees. It was utterly silent but I felt a presence watching me. Golden eyes were in the darkness, staring at me when I wasn't looking. I forged my way onwards through the bitter snow, terrified and desperately wanting Grigore by my side.

I suddenly burst out into the open yet even here there was an ominous darkness. The sky was still a void and the world was still covered in a red hue. A gust of wind burst behind me, tugging at my hair and furs violently. I barely managed to keep my hood on. When it died, I turned to see and the forest was not there anymore, instead a great looming dark and ominous fort stood behind me.

I stared up at the walls and turrets, barely seeing hundreds of white eyes staring down at me. They glittered like tiny stars, filled with nothing but malice. But it was the man at the mouth of the gate that scared me the most. I couldn't see him clearly as his face was covered by a white fur hood but golden locks danced in the wind and golden eyes stared at me from the darkness of their face.

As the eyes narrowed and a white smile shined, I stumbled back, scared when my magic suddenly churned in terror. A great roar thundered in the void above and wind buffeted my face. I watched in terror as a great body dropped from the sky and massive thick claws clamped onto the wall, crushing anyone beneath it.

Covered in glistening muddy scales, the dragon opened its wings and rose onto its haunches, displaying its massive size and bulk. Black eyes stared down at me while its thin long muzzle remained tightly shut with smoke boiling from its nostrils. I didn't hear it but the golden eyed man beneath him said a word. I knew he did. My magic shrunk away at the sound.