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Chapter 18 - The Oigd’yiadttigdeit

Claudia was standing in the middle of the dirt road, only a minute away from my house. She held her umbrella in a strange manner, where one paw held the handle, and another gently held the pointed end. She had kept it perfectly level to the ground.

The skunk’s stance was anything but dramatic, however. Her shoulders slunk down with extreme comfort, and her weight was perfectly balanced between her two hindpaws. Her builky green jacket seemed quite adept at keeping the cold at bay. I applied the brakes, or at least I attempted to apply the brakes in a manner that held any tact. Even though we were on a dirt road, pools had formed in the morning that froze briefly. I skidded a few hindpaws further than intended, and came within a single hindpaw of running the skunk over. She didn’t move a muscle, and walked over to the driver’s side, rapping hard on the window with an expression that remained completely calm, juxtaposed to my look of panic.

I rolled the window down. “Claudia! What are you doing here?”

“I’m being dramatic.”

“Yeah but, like- What?”

“The Record told me to.”

“The Record told you to do what?”

“To be dramatic.”

The earlier panic was gone, and now I was actually frustrated at the mephit pedestrian. “Claudia, please use a sentence with more than five words, just once.”

She shrugged. “It’s for your book.”

“What’s for my book?”

“Me being dramatic.” Claudia’s voice remained diligent and even-leveled while I was practically shouting.

“You standing in the road is dramatic?”

She opened up the door to the backseat and clapped my shoulders. “Just drive. Trust me.”

I gave up on arguing and finished the last stretch of the long journey home. Standing at the front of my house was my husband, Zuma the Puma.

“You couldn’t just tell me-”

“This makes your book dramatic.”

I stopped the car in the middle of the road, flung the keys into the cup holder, and poured out of the car, actually falling over on my back in the process. I scrambled over towards the puma as though I had rabies, completely failing to notice the other cars that sat in my driveway. He was wearing a deep-blue polyester windbreaker, and thick, black jeans. “Hun, what are you doing-”

“Claudia told me to come, because you’re going to be facing the Archlitch tonight, according to the Record, and you’ll need help.” I had been attempting to text the puma all throughout the stretches of our drive towards Minnesota as Florence drove, but I didn’t get any responses until we were well on our way. Now I knew why; he’d been in an airplane, and this time, he forgot to get on-flight WiFi. Though I was concerned that my husband’s sudden arrival didn’t pop up on my Record radar. it is to establish the climax. or finality.

“You shouldn’t be here, though, this is literally the most dangerous thing that I’m about to do-”

“What are you talking about, hun? That’s exactly why I needed to come. We’re in this together.”

“What about the Academy?”

“I faked a sick note. They’re a school, hun, not a cult.” A fair point. But then, I finally noticed one of the cars in the driveway; a black, compact Toyota, one that I’d driven countless times myself when I lived in Chicago. “Wait is-”

As if on cue, the door opened, and standing at its precipice was the hedgehog, Beck. “Aaron, you’re home!”

“What the hell are you doing here? This isn’t safe-”

“Zuma and Zippo needed a ride-”

“Wait; Zippo’s here?”

It was at this point that Florence and Claudia approached from behind, continuing to allow me to carry the entirety of the dialogue weight for this sudden onslaught of dramatic reveals. Creeping into view was a large, bulky white tiger, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. But Zippo wasn’t the first person to appear from behind the hedgehog’s spiky back. Touchstone crept into view on the other side, beside the one-eyed wolf, Hawthorn. Despite the myriad of scars, the wolf’s smile was warm and friendly, which brought me hope that the inevitable argument regarding Jouxlya would be avoided after all. Hawthorn was the first to provide us with more context. “Oh hey there, Forsy, glad you made it back safe. I should, um- So I know there’s a lot of people in your house, but I picked up Ciro after he arrived on the ferry-”

“Ciro’s here too?” My eyes were wide enough to make the full moon develop an inferiority complex. And as though this were a perfectly rehearsed play, the coyote was diligent in making their cues as well, gently pushing the blackbird and wolf aside to appear in the doorway.

Though the two canines were far from the only Canadians present. A familiar otter also pushed past the doorway and into the yard, an otter who’d tagged along with Zippo on his journey across the Atlantic.

Beck, who came to the conclusion that their spikes probably weren’t helping with the traffic jam at the door, stepped into the yard and explained. “I also picked up Mako, and Clare too! We somehow fit five people in that tiny car.” It didn’t even have doors to the backseat.

Ciro then spoke, “I was trying to surprise you with a visit, after we heard you were working on a book, but apparently I’ve arrived just in time for the dramatic conclusion of that book, from what Zuma’s told us.”

“Yeah,” added the otter, “It’ll probably have a much better ending if you don’t die in the middle of it.”

“Oh, God, this is not the middle. This is Chapter 18. But I appreciate you wanting to help prevent me from dying.”

Despite the fact that I was doing bits, I couldn’t deny my urge to indulge sentimentality, and went to collectively hug the remaining members of our small, international polycule that I hadn’t seen in quite a while. I was married to the puma, but the five of us were fundamentally all connected in a deep, fulfilling relationship that transcended mere friendship. Some point, down the line, we all hoped to live together.

The coyote, having prepared for any magical conflicts, was covered in more mud than clothing, and a large swath of it managed to cake itself into my fur and coat. The tiger and otter wore more practical windbreakers for the punishing, wintery north. I did not envy the ochre-furred canine one bit; freshly thawed mud was cold. Mako didn’t have to do any additional shopping, having lived long enough in places that are prone to getting cold, though the metal bits and bobs of his piercings and enormous collar were sure to be quite cool to the touch in this weather. Zuma swooped in from behind me to finish the hug, and Hawthorn also joined in for some reason, though it wasn’t unwelcome. Enough animals were shivering that we all slowly moved into the cabin as the conversation transpired.

The white tiger was quick to get us back on track. “Now fox, stop doing bits and actually explain what the Archlitch is. I think I know the least out of anyone here-”

But then, Florence burst into the room, ruining the big cat’s momentum and noticing something that I had missed entirely. “Wait, is that-”

“We’re here too, bitch,” mocked the cat Jacksie, decked out in an actual witch’s hat, “But to clarify, we didn’t get any text from the skunk or anything. We just got advised to not be in Chicago for a while, and decided to just check in on you after you sent the most panicked consecutive texts I’d ever seen in order. This is a weird coincidence.” The deer, Rowena, towered over the cat and waved shyly, adding on no more than, “Hey, Florence!” She was the only animal wearing a cotton coat, and though it looked thick, I definitely noticed the white-spotted cervine shivering.

“I’m gonna be real,” admitted the orange cat; now one of three felines. “I know less than the tiger, and I don’t think we’re going to be that much of a help, but I bought a crossbow.” At her hip swung a wicked, yet modern-looking crossbow, painted entirely black and decked out with a stock and trigger that wouldn’t have looked out of place on an assault rifle.

“I just got a t-taser,” admitted the doe sheepishly.

Claudia had somehow snuck up behind me after I broke the group hug. “Told you. Dramatic.” they are here and so the fox cannot die.

“Is there anyone else that decided to show up at my house?” I scanned the living room, and failed to notice any other animal.

This time, Touchstone spoke up. “Marianne’s waiting in her house. She’s on standby, waiting for night to fall.” For Palais. “But as soon as that comes to pass… I suppose the eleven of us-”

Then, we all heard the toilet flush, and an eleventh animal emerged from the hallway where my bathroom was. It was the Summoner Clare, looking as preppy as the Academy he attended. The mustelid was evidently eavesdropping. “Did you forget about me?” I noticed the palpable tone of sadness in his question.

Touchstone shrugged, not letting the fiasco involving the pine marten bother him that much, “It’s all cool, man. I forgot to count myself.”

“I find it hard to believe that everyone here actively counted how many people are here,” added Zippo. Beck then leaned into my right ear, and brandishing their stage manager prowess, proceeded to whisper, “There’s actually thirteen, fourteen if you count Marianne.” I nodded without responding verbally, humoring the hedgehog. The Scottish feline continued. “I take it Jouxlya isn’t here?”

“Zippo, Jouxlya’s banished,” I answered. I made sure not to look towards Hawthorn. I wasn’t curious enough to gauge his reaction upon hearing the fox’s name.

“Yeah, it was a rhetorical question.”

Jacksie aired her concerns once more. “OK, so I cannot express enough that we should not be going in and doing whatever it is that you all plan on doing. But Florence shouldn’t go either, and Rowe and I are going to make damned sure that nothing gets to her if we’re the last line of defense.”

Beck then dutifully raised their paw, and added, “I promise I’ll actually learn some magic one day, bestie, but I’ll probably also stay here.”

Jacksie then snapped finger guns. “Damn, once again, I’m the transgender equivalent of a fag hag-”

Rowena then snapped, “J-Jacksie, you shouldn’t-”

“I can say it. I’ve slept with women.”

Zippo then interjected once more, “Alright, so I know we’re doing bits, still, unfortunately, but I’d like to actually know how we can approach this situation without dying.”

“Should we get Marianne for this?” asked the white-furred fox beside me. I couldn’t fathom why the furless cat would need to keep rigid vigilance over the petrified gargoyle. I couldn’t imagine that she’d leave a temporal key leading to the Archlitch in the lock so casually. “Or, wait, Hawthorn is the Mracksiogne here.”

The one-eyed wolf then cast a long, pensive stare out of the window, subconsciously rubbing at the eyepatch that he’d earned from the beast in question. “No, yeah, I guess I’d be the biggest expert here on the-” His speech slowed for the careful pronunciation: “Oigd’yiadttigdeit.” Jacksie, Rowena, and Beck all showed looks of confusion when confronted with the sudden alien word. “So, what we know is that it has this random transformation effect, and all of the research indicates that it can only perform this ability when it touches someone, so nobody get close to it. We also don’t believe that it has the ability to choose the things that its victim transforms into, and I don’t think that the Archlitch possessing it can change that fact, but I’m not certain.”

I knew that I’d have to cross this bridge immediately, but despite the dread therein, I decided to start divulging what Jouxlya told me. I saw a look of hurt flash across Hawthorn’s muzzle as I discussed the other fox, with whom the baggage continued to weigh heavily, but I had to assume that a Mulgywai would have told the wolf of my whereabouts at some point, and now was the time for honesty. “Jouxlya was able to give me this.” I pulled the glass jar from my coat pocket and held the vessel aloft for all to see. The dull violet liquid swirled idly inside. “It’ll work to automatically kill the Oigd’yiadttigdeit as long as a considerable amount of it gets into physical contact, which, unfortunately, means that one of us will have to get uncomfortably close.” I saw Florence then move her furry arm to scratch at the scales of her transformed arm, but thankfully, the vixen stopped herself from volunteering to do the job, knowing that everyone in the room would stop her.

“OK, then we’ll table that idea. What else did Jouxlya tell you?” The Mracksiogne was taking the new information in without any anger, but it wasn’t hard to notice his normally aloof nature so suddenly shift into such a serious mood.

“That the Oigd’yiadttigdeit is dead, due to the fact that, y’know, anyone that the Archlitch possesses is automatically killed. In fact, we probably shouldn’t wait for long. The Archlitch’s Shadow is also coming. But Jouxlya and I think that the Oigd’yiadttigdeit approached the Archlitch because, well, um… We think it wanted to die, so that’s probably how the Archlitch got it to open up to the possession.”

“Should somebody pick up a Super Soaker from Walmart?” asked Clare in complete earnestness. Zuma moved across the room to stand next to his roommate, and shook his head, quietly murmuring. “No, Clare, just no.” If it wasn’t the fact that my husband shot down the idea, I’d probably agree with it.

“So- Um, so sorry-” Hawthorn moved on, ignoring the pine marten, “So we also know that the Oigd’yiadttigdeit has some sort of ability to slip into a pocket dimension, or that, well, um- Quote-unquote ‘spirit world,’ or at least use some form of teleportation. Did Jouxlya mention what that entailed, fox?”

I shook my head, “No, we never figured that out.”

Hawthorn nodded his head once sharply. “OK, so everyone note that. The Archlitch can probably teleport now.”

“In addition to all other sorts of painful magic,” the black-feathered songbird commented snidely, rubbing at his ribs that were thoroughly broken a day prior.

“So we need Hard Counters. Touchstone, Beck, Jacksie, Rowena, and Florence don’t use magic, so I’m sorry to exclude you, but you probably won’t help. I have a couple of spells prepared, I see Stone Skin being useful to prevent from directly touching it, I don’t imagine making a campfire or purifying water or anything are going to pull much weight. I’m not using Applied Force either, and I don’t think I have anything powerful enough regarding putting it to sleep or giving it pain. So, yeah.”

Ciro then stepped forward. “Actually, Hawthorn, I also can cast Stone Skin, as well as a couple of other spells regarding Earth manipulation- You know Earth Magic, it’s very flexible.”

“That’s really good to know. It’ll be good to move things around with non-biological matter.” Hawthorn was now officially in charge. “Forseti has Fungal Magic, I don’t see that being too useful, but we’ll see. Claudia has the Blade-'' Claudia patted at what looked to be her umbrella, but was really an ancient, powerful artifact that was obscured with a glamour. I mentioned that umbrella, like, five times, you had to know it’d be important. “Zuma can use illusions, that’s never not useful- er, um, that’s always useful, I mean. You and Clare can also cast Imbound, which… Would that work?”

The two Teleraine students shrugged. “One way to find out,” answered Zuma.

“Clare, may I ask, what all do you summon?”

“Only the Daggrebosko and the Basan at the moment, though I think neither are going to be too useful, on account of being living things that need to get close to other beings to perform magic.”

“Good to know. Stick with Imbound, then. Mako, what do you have?”

“I’m a Channelor.”

The wolf squinted his eye dubiously. “Is that different from a Summoner, or-”

This seemingly offended the pine marten Summoner. “Hawthorn, the two schools of magic are entirely different, aren’t you a Mracksiogne?” The otter stepped forward to clarify, ignoring the outburst. “I let spirits, ghost, and magical beings possess me, and they usually use my body as a vessel to perform their own magic-”

The way in which Mako described his particular interest in magic horrified the Mracksiogne. “Stay as far away from the Archlitch as possible. That is- That is just the exact opposite of a Hard Counter-”

“I have to consent to it! Or… I have to consent to it the first time, the beings can then possess me anytime they like afterwards, but the first time, I have to consent!”

“Is there any way in which the Archlitch can bypass that?”

The otter pursed his flat muzzle, searching for the right words. “I’m positive; no.”

“Alright then, who can possess you?”

“Any ghost, though that’s not useful if no one’s died in the house.” I knew that Mary Johannson had died in the house, but it didn’t feel tasteful to bring up. Darkly, Lavitia’s warning then flashed in my head. Mary certainly wasn’t the only one of the Archlitch’s victims in that home either. I pushed those thoughts away as Mako continued. “There’s an incubus, but he’s more for… let’s just say, adult interests. There’s this old hyena Foulgydan ghost that was an Apothecary and Necromancer, but… he also has adult interests…”

“Stick with the hyena for now, unless he’s just a, um, lewd dude?”

“He’s a Foulgydan. He knows other spells.”

“Good to know. Last, that brings us to Zippo. What is it you do exactly?”

Zippo cracked his knuckles. “A bit, here and there. I don’t specialize. I wasn’t able to bring many herbs overseas, baggage claims and what have you. But I’ve gotten fairly decent at exorcism, I’ve got something similar to Imbound, but better. I can manipulate some body parts at a distance, lungs and heart and so on. Just to name a few. It’s all quite random.”

Hawthorn’s toothy, lupine muzzle curled in a way to indicate that he was impressed. “Right on, so you’re probably the most powerful witch here.”

“Yeah, maybe? I don’t compare that sort of thing often.”

The otter winked at the tiger. “More powerful than I am, either way.”

The wolf scratched at his furry cheek and squinted his good eye. “Ciro and I will go in on point when we go through the door, Zippo can stay right behind, since he’s got more range. I imagine Marianne and Palais are comfortable taking up the rear. If we’re in a person’s house, it’ll be way too cramped for my liking, so set up Earth barriers right away- You can do that, Ciro?”

“They won’t be pretty, and you won’t be able to sell the house in any competitive market again, but I can do that.”

“Good. Claudia, your magic’s also fairly ranged, so you stick to Forseti, Mako, and Zuma in the middle. And Clare? I might actually have you stick back and also protect Florence. I want one magic user here.”

Clare nodded. “You’ll get three with me.”

The one-eyed wolf nodded. “I don’t know how this Shadow works, I’m no mathematician, but I don’t even think it’ll come by the time we confront the Archlitch. Either way, stay vigilant.”

“I’m borderline paranoid, Hawthorn. Don’t worry.”

Marianne then stepped into view, lurking silently in the hallway. No one heard her open the door. “I heard most of the plan. It works for me.” That was all she said; no jokes, no derision. Just quiet stoicism.

Hawthorn laughed nervously, “Yeah, that makes me feel good about the plan, thank you.”

“We must only wait for Palais to come out of the stone. But I must admit that I don’t want him anywhere near the Archlitch. I’d be happier if he stayed with Florence here.” as if it would help. The Sphynx glided across the room, actually dressed to look as ancient and powerful as she was. A black garment that looked like a cross between a robe and a dress flowed elegantly beneath her, trimmed in a dark purple fabric, concealing pouches with all manner of sachets and reagents for spellcraft. Her ragged, black pointed witch’s hat was twice the size of Jacksie’s, and she wore a black faux fur coat above her robes in order to handle the cold. The skin on her exposed neck bore an extravagant necklace with a chain decked out in crystals, and a menacing black gemstone cut in the briolette shape. Her thin, white satin gloves were equally decked out in gems.

The wolf nodded, quickly and awkwardly, “No, yeah, that’s totally fair. Crowded living room and all that.”

“Good.”

Rowena had offered to get pizza for the group, not being able to contribute in any of the magical discussion. Mako went with her. Even though on paper, the threats were a considerable distance away, no one felt safe if one animal went anywhere alone. The posse of animals made a great feast when the two mammals returned with a half-dozen pizza boxes. We all wanted to capture some sort of revelry as we waited for the sun to set, all silently hoping that it wouldn’t be the last time we’d feast. It was all at once a great party, a long-awaited reunion, and a burdensome wait wherein no mirth could remain for long. I kept the french press regularly topped up with coffee and a kettle filled with strong, black tea; it was going to be a long night.

The conversation between the thirteen animals was stilted and awkward, for while there was nothing more to prepare against the Archlitch, no one could focus on any other topic for long. Only one animal was missing. Florence stood at the edge of the forest, staring out into it once more.

I had no idea how long the arctic vixen was outside alone. I only saw her from my bedroom window while I went to check my charging phone. In a quick flurry of panic, I tripped over the corner of the hallway wall on my way to the backdoor, flailing like mad to try and get outside. But a red-and-yellow-feathered wing-paw touched my shoulder as I tried to climb to my hindpaws, and Touchstone asked, “Hey, I can get her. I actually wanted to ask her something privately, if you don’t mind.”

Catching my breath, I wheezed out a raspy, “Yeah, man. Go for it.” I tried to breathe deeply, and stifle the sudden onslaught of adrenaline pooling within me.

The blackbird helped me up. “Thanks, man.” He exhaled a barely noticeable facsimile of a laugh. “I haven’t, um, told anyone yet. But I think I want to ask her out. Maybe it’s… It’s not the best time, but maybe it’ll help get her mind off things, if I ask her. Is that crazy?” I saw the blackbird get flustered in a way that I’d never truly seen before.

“Damn, you have a crush on Florence?”

He exhaled another little laugh. “Oh yeah, definitely. That’s, um… Yeah, definitely. I’m…” His voice trailed off as he searched for words. “I think I might just chat with her for now, actually. She has way more important things to think about instead of dating, now that I think about it. But I’ll definitely make sure she’s not alone outside. Thanks for, um… letting me get that off my chest. I think I just needed to tell someone that I’ve got feelings. Before this all goes down.”

I clapped the blackbird’s newly-healed shoulder. “You’re so adorable, I cannot believe I’m seeing you like this right now.”

“I know you meant to mock me, but there’s a beauty in earnestness, and to accept the joy of one’s own passions is- I’m just gonna go outside. Chat with you soon.”

“Good luck, man- Y’know,when you actually ask her out.”

“Thanks, fox.”

I was going to make my way back to the pizza party, when Hawthorn appeared in the hallway, coming out of the bathroom. “Hey, um, Forsy- can we talk real quick?”

All at once, an overwhelming feeling of awkwardness filled my throat. I tried to swallow down the feeling, but I had to be ready to face confrontation. “Yeah, sure dude. Wanna just chat in my room?”

“Yeah, no it’s probably for the best. If it’s private- If that’s OK with you, Forsy?”

“That’s totally OK.” I ushered the wolf inside and shut the door behind him. I sat at the end of my bed as the one-eyed lupine simply leaned on the wall. I let him begin. “Yeah, no, so, um… This is all a bit awkward, and I’d like it not to be awkward, especially now that we have to fight the Archlitch today. I was really mad at you earlier, but maybe I shouldn’t be? I think I overreacted-”

I interrupted. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Hawthorn. I’m the one-”

“I know, I know.” Hawthorn looked towards the ground, though he was never really making eye contact with me in the first place. “I never told this story to anyone before, but I should probably tell you. It’s just… traumatic, I get worked up when I think about it. I really shouldn’t anymore, but I do. But that night, in the woods, when Jouxlya, Azelfrey and I were searching for the Oigd’yiadttigdeit, Jouxlya… saved my life. The Oiggy teleported into us suddenly and just… it pounced on Azelfrey, and she didn’t, um… she didn’t live for longer than a few seconds afterwards. And I went to try and save her- I don’t know what I was thinking, but the entity swiped at me, and- I don’t know how, but I ducked at the perfect angle. It somehow only scratched at my eye without touching any other part of my body. And I started screaming, and the Oiggy ran off, and, um- I couldn’t see what my eye had transformed into, but Jouxlya was so quick. She had her knife and she cut out my eye before anything else could transform, and… and she had just watched her wife die. I… I really owe her a lot, Forseti.”

I nodded slowly, letting the wolf continue. “I don’t hate Jouxlya- I really can’t hate her. I know that the whole town hates her for summoning the Oigd’yiadttigdeit and killing Foulgydan Jack, and, um… everything, but I really don’t agree with them on that. I don’t know, I… I really shouldn’t be alive right now. It’s all just really good luck that I didn’t get killed that night, and I think about that a lot, whenever I think about Jouxlya. This is all just so fickle, being alive, and that makes me uncomfortable. And I think it’s because of the trauma that I got so weird earlier, but I’m really, really not mad at you fox. I hope you don’t think that.”

I stood from the bed, losing the fight against my tear ducts. “Hawthorn, thank you so much. I could hug you.”

“I’d like that a lot.” I stood on the tips of my toes and held onto the wolf’s muscular torso tighter than a vice grip, eternally grateful for this closure before the finale.

The sun had set only minutes ago. Everyone had finished their preparations, magical or otherwise.

In Marianne’s home, the Sphynx clutched onto the temporal key with her left claws, gently hovering it a few inches away from the lock of the door leading to naught but a brick wall. She held it perfectly still.

Being a much larger cat, Zippo towered from behind. Hawthorn and Ciro’s arms were already covered with a mass of hard stone. They hugged the walls on both sides of the door, ready to rush in. I could practically feel the fungal presence within me humming in fertility. Fly amanita and panther caps dotted the sides of my face, and a healthy shelf of birch polypore sprouted from the fur on my neck. I didn’t worry too much. The fertile fungus within me wouldn’t need me to be alive in order to grow and flourish.

No one felt compelled to say anything motivational. No one had time to truly prepare their last words. Marianne was the first to cut the quiet tension. “We have the element of surprise. But expect an ambush.”

The Sphynx thrust the key into the lock, and didn’t hesitate to turn the knob of the door, kicking it in the process.

Nobody was expecting the door to lead to open air, into what looked like a field filled with large swathes of tall sawgrass, surrounded by a forest at night. I almost thought I could hear the sounds of waves lapping upon a shore in the distance. illinois beach nature preserve.

Not to succumb to surprise and hesitation, Ciro thrust his leg into the earth, immediately on the other end of the threshold. A sharp mass of stone formed a bulky, earthen wall, over a meter tall, and immediately skewered what looked like a feral deer. Except it wasn’t a feral deer, because its head was a horse’s skull, devoid of skin, and its antlers were instead wicked horns, belonging to a goat. It had intended to lunge through the doorway immediately as the door opened. If the coyote hadn’t killed it so quickly, direct contact would have biologically altered someone forever.

Another shape lurked behind the wall, aimlessly attempting to shove its misshapen hoof-slash-black-spider leg through the little gap between the door and Ciro’s barrier. Everyone stepped back, out of the beast’s reach. It wailed with what sounded like two different voices; the pained bleating of a deer that had just been shot, and the wailing of an anthro animal with a damaged lung. Marianne raised her other claw and stopped the deer aberration’s heart, and the creature died moments later. More shapes loomed in what little I could see in the distance. The entire field was filled with a cacophony of horrifying moans.

Zuma then spoke in a low voice. “I’m going to make an illusion to draw them away, we need to get into the playing field.” He spoke his plan towards the one-eyed wolf, who had become our de facto commander. The Mracksionge nodded curtly. Zuma cast an illusion, and not a glamour, so all of us could perceive what looked to be the stone wall melting into mud, followed by a spectral version of our group running blindly forward in a straight line. The groaning and shuffling seemed to chase after the illusory forms. Zuma lacked the strength to cast an illusion and a glamour at the same time, however, so Claudia jumped in. “I can do the glamour.”

Ciro and Hawthorn, under the influence of pseudo-invisibility, crept out into the open night air. The earth-molding canine only pushed aside a small part of the wall, and not the entirety of it. Zippo hung close, right behind them, ready to magically incapacitate anything that would try to get the jump on us. Thankfully, the puma’s illusions drew away anything within pouncing range. Hawthorn beckoned the rest of us with his paws, and we all made our way into the open night air.

If the sounds of lapping water, and the momentary glimpse into the Record didn’t give it away, the stinging, reedy, half-dead plants indicated that we were somewhere near Lake Michigan, or at least some other Great Lake. The tell-tale scent of salty seafoam was entirely absent, and very few other bodies of water could roar like the ocean. Though I could see trees looming in the distance, I wasn’t close enough for my half-adjusted nocturnal eyes to make out their color. I could only make out that we were certainly somewhere where the full brunt of winter failed to fling all leaves to the ground. The open air wasn’t without a chilly nip. We all stood in a circle, facing outwards. Out in the distance, amidst the sand and seagrass, I could hear the sounds of mangled animals foolishly attempting to tear into the flesh of an illusion without realizing their mistake. It seemed as though the Archlitch had infected local wildlife in the attempt to kill us, but that didn’t mean that the being’s makeshift army was intelligent. I saw no signs of the Oigd’yiadttigdeit’s body.

“We’re north of Chicago,” I announced.

“Getting anything on the Record?” asked Marianne. it lurks in its own realm.

“Just ‘It lurks in its own realm.’ It’s waiting.”

The demonic moaning ceased for a moment, and I started to hear shapes bolting towards our direction again. The furless cat, heedless of the fact that she also speaking loudly, stammered, “Shut up, fox-”

“Get ready,” commanded Hawthorn.

Without the light from Marianne’s hallway, it was difficult to see what exactly the Oigd’yiadttigdeit did to this particular herd of feral deer. But with their wheezing and groaning, and their unrelenting urge to bite, it wasn’t difficult to tell that they’d been infected.

Ciro continued to stomp into the earth, sending spires of sharp earth to skewer a few of the poor beasts. Hawthorn punched a feral deer that had gotten dangerously close, his Stone Skin preventing biological contact. The crackling blue light of Applied Force accompanied the jab, and I wasn’t surprised to see the beast fly backwards several hindpaws. Marianne sent wicked black-light bolts of energy into other feral cervines, penetrating into them with what looked like arrows made of lightning. Zuma and I huddled back-to-back, and though there was very little that I could do to help, I saw my husband making spectral visages of Florence off in the distance, to distract a few of the deer. I could tell it was an illusion, because I could make out the details and colors of the arctic fox clearly, despite it being nighttime. It didn’t seem to draw more creatures towards it than any other spectral image of us would, however. The deer seemed to be blindly attacking anything that moved. And then, Claudia finally unsheathed the Bey-Ohrial Blade.

In the darkness, it was impossible to make out the details of the ancient sword, but I’d seen it many times before. The steel was black, and it curved upward like a scimitar. A gold trim ran along the length of the blade’s blunted backside. Its guard and pommel were also forged of black steel; the exact same shade of the blade itself, and its wooden scabbard was likewise painted an inky black. The blade made no sound, and cast no strange light, but it had an uncanny aura to it that couldn’t be perceived through normal senses outside of gut instinct. Staring at the blade for too long gave an animal a migraine.

Claudia raised the blade high and sliced the open air. Off in the distance, a corrupted feral cervine was split into two pieces from its torso, as though its flesh was butter. The skunk swung again, and killed a second deer several hindpaws away in the exact same fashion.

I almost failed to notice the otter, who began to cackle like mad. Sparkling, purple-and-black energy crackled from his paws, and it was clear that Mako wasn’t in control anymore. Heinrich the Chaste took over. The corpses of several felled cervines came to life once more, and ran blindly towards the rest of the herd, biting back at the still-living cursed creatures. No other beast was able to make any considerable distance towards our position, and then the swarm of birds came.

I almost failed to regard the massive flock with any caution, until I realized that the swarming swirl of insane, cawing, and darting feathers was headed our direction. Zuma was quick to react, and formed about three or four mirror images of our group, but only half of the dedicated flock peeled off to attack. Claudia focused on slicing into them, but wasn’t able to make any cuts that felled the avian number in any meaningful way. Ciro formed a curved slab of stone to act as a makeshift roof, but the Earth Magic wasn’t cleanly performed, and an entire open side remained, easy for any bird to find the way through. They were almost ten seconds away from physically attacking when Marianne produced a gnarled piece of gypsum with an herbal sachet tied to the side. A sticky note was stuck to the side of the cloth bag, bearing a circular glyph scribbled in charcoal. She whispered “Appeler le foudre,” and the glyph began to glow with crackling electricity. The skies above began to swirl. Within the span of a microsecond, a massive sphere of ball lightning spawned in the middle of the swarming birds and instantly vaporized a majority of the flock. The accompanying sound of thunder nearly shattered my eardrums half a second later, and a thin, shrill ringing noise was all I could hear for a considerable amount of time. In the brief flash of light that the powerful spell produced, I could see everyone’s fur standing up on end; everyone save for the Sphynx herself.

The cat bought enough time for Ciro to sink his arms into the sand and seal the rest of the earthen structure, and the added presence of electricity made it even easier for the witch to mold sand into hard stone. Naturally, the coyote left only the smallest of holes to allow us to breathe.

Half a minute had passed, but I realized that the rest of our little party was already mid-conversation. Marianne’s antagonistic voice was the first I could make out “...can’t let even a single bird touch us.”

Zippo then performed Cast Light; no one thought to do it first. The static-filled air still caused everyone’s fur to stick out, and I couldn’t shake the scent of iron from my nasal palate.

“Well, we’re sitting feral ducks here,” countered the one-eyed wolf, “Do you have another one of those lightning spells?”

“That was my only one.”

“And it wasn’t Chain Lightning?”

“Listen for yourself.” It was at that point that I began to hear the mad, ear-splitting ravaging of the remaining birds, clawing desperately into the stone. I noticed Claudia occasionally waving her blade around in the confined quarters, apparently cutting down a few feral birds while we waited for a better plan.

Hawthorn then turned his one good eye towards me, “Forsy, are you with us?”

“Yeah, sorry, lost my hearing for a second.”

“Can you release your spores from here?”

I shook my head, “I can, but the Oigd’yiadttigdeit’s whole thing is just gonna change ‘em. Nothing poison will stick.”

Hawthorn turned to Zuma, “Illusions?”

“You saw what happened earlier. I can get most of them, but I won’t get all.”

Mako, or more accurately, Heinrich, brushed a miniscule amount of fallen dust from the shoulders of his coat. “I’d be able to reanimate them if someone didn’t completely vaporize the bodies.”

“Who the fuck are you again?” shouted the Sphynx angrily, not one to be talked back to.

“Heinrich the Chaste, my dear. You’re old, certainly you’ve heard of-”

“Yeah, we’ve met. You’re literally dead.”

The hyena dexterously fluttered the digits of the otter’s paws. “Astutely observant as always. I would have thought you’d be able to recognize-”

“A Channeler. Whatever. Shut up, Heinrich.”

“Hmm, gonna send an electric shock my way too, dear? The otter wouldn’t mind one-”

“Guys-” interrupted Zippo, “Everyone shut up, stop doing bits. I have a plan. I can just cast Agdwar’s Straightjacket. It’s like the Teleraine Imbound, but I can cast it in a way that works like Chain Lightning. The tendrils will wrap around every airborne bird, bind them to the ground, and we’ll be free and clear.”

The furless cat scowled, “You could have brought that up before I cast my thing-”

“Well, to be fair, you hardly announced that you were going to shatter my eardrums all-of-the-sudden.”

Marianne grumbled anyway, “Waste of components,” while the tiger nudged the coyote, who’s forepaws had thoroughly sunk into the sand and soil. “Leave a couple holes in the ceiling big enough for me to see through-”

Hawthorn then blocked the tiger from moving towards the center of the room. “Don’t get your eyes close to the birds.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Parts of the roof magically crumbled into sand, and I could immediately see a few beaks try to shove their way through the gaps. Some of them had teeth, and some of them were made of bark. Zippo closed his eyes, waved his arms around, and cast Agdwar’s Straightjacket without any verbal components. He lost his focus on the light spell, and the room was plunged into darkness. It was impossible to see what was transpiring outside, but the maddening chorus of birds quickly grew mute.

“I’m going to need to stay here and focus on keeping this spell in place, so someone watch my back, but if any other infected beasts come into the area, they’ll be bound to the ground as well-”

But that seemed like a short term solution, and I was quick to contest. “They’re not just going to go away if we kill the Archlitch, Zippo-”

“Then- I don’t know, they’re all stuck to the Earth, just swallow them up, Ciro.” He pronounced the coyote’s name with a hard “C,” unlike every other person I’d met.

“I can do that, sir,” replied Ciro dutifully, and then more magic happened that I couldn’t see because we were in an earthen igloo.

“Well, that’s sorted.”

The structure then completely melted into sand, which poured into every nook and cranny of my fur in a rather unpleasant manner. I imagined that no one was immune to the presence of the granular particles, save for Marianne, who inquired, “Alright, where’s the Archlitch-”

All around us, the grass started to writhe, melt, and dissolve into biological abominations that I couldn’t quite make out in perfect detail in the darkness. The fact that the feral deer were brushing up against the vegetation caused a few aberrations here and there, but the sudden avian mass grave altered the area completely. Little black-lit tendrils, sparkling with energy, stuck out of the ground here and there, and writhed slowly like worms towards unseen targets.

We were stuck in our little sand circle. We couldn’t walk anywhere without risking contact with the hellish growths, despite the amount of clothing we were wearing. I was finally able to look back towards the door we came through, however. Apparently, the Archlitch used some old maintenance structure directly next to some out-of-commission radio tower. It didn’t sit well with me that the door remained ajar.

“Guys, someone’s gotta get over to that door and take the key out,” I warned in a panic, “I don’t like-”

The Sphynx cut me off, practically screeching. “The Archlitch could have gotten in! Somebody get in there, now-”

“How?” shouted Hawthorn. “The grass is messed up?” Ciro attempted to mold and reform various patches of soil and sand, but nothing he could do could create a path that perfectly buried each and every square inch of corrupted plant matter. “Oh wait.” The wolf stuck out his paws, and performed Cast Fire, starting off with a meager little campfire, before slowly moving it over a straight path of plant material towards the door. I was glad that the wolf’s proclivities towards wilderness survival prompted him to keep that spell ready.

A few other shapes moved through the bushes; thankfully terrestrial animals instead of airbourne ones. Claudia cut a few down, while Zippo’s tendrils grabbed hold of a few others, binding them before another animal could take them out of their misery. Marianne ran towards the door, regardless of the fact that the path in front of her was literally on fire. The flames licked around her long, flowing clothing, and I was certain that the burning sensation would get to her, but she walked on fire as though it were nothing but bare air. Zippo, Hawthorn, and Claudia were distracted with keeping the beasts at bay, and Zuma stuck by my side, the both of us not really able to contribute too much in the lieu of combat magic. The puma didn’t bother with the Imbound spell while Zippo’s was active. But Mako-slash-Heinrich was able to keep up with the Frote Foulgydan; the fire probably singed the otter very painfully, but the hyena wasn’t all too concerned with that.

“I’m going to Florence, to make damned sure that the Archlitch hasn’t gotten to her-”

“I’m going with,” added the Foulgydan hyena.

“Whatever. The rest of you, guard this door, now.” Marianne and Heinrich squeezed through the gap left by Ciro’s Earth Magic, and the rest of us slowly ambled our way towards the old radio tower, fully focused on preventing any aberrant animals from crossing the threshold and keeping a weather eye out for the Archlitch. Without putting his plan into words, Zuma even cast another projection of Florence in an open field in order to draw the damnable adversary out, but no five-limbed being crawled out from the proverbial woodwork.

The fire died down eventually, and Ciro covered up the smoldering remains with soil, far easier than he was able to before. Claudia continued slashing at oncoming deer with her Bey-Ohrial Blade, and Zippo maintained the Straightjacket with all of his magical intention. Hawthorn, Zuma and I took advantage of our compatriots’ magic, and ended up in front of the door before too long. It took all of my willpower to not succumb to the potential that the Archlitch had already claimed the arctic fox, and that our last stand was an exercise in futility. But then I checked the Record. the fox yet lived. The Archlitch hadn’t gone through the door yet. “Just checked the Record, the Archlitch is still here, guys!”

The last of the feral deer had come to a brutal end as Claudia cut off its head. My heart writhed in sympathy, despite the killings being done out of mercy. The rest of our party had managed to circle up near the entrance to the door. Miraculously, not a single one of us had come into physical contact with a corrupt biological abomination.

Preemptively, Ciro formed another circular stone barrier. This wall wasn’t as high as the first, but it’d stop any creature that might pop up out of nowhere and run straight towards us. Zippo eased up on Agdwar’s Straightjacket, in order to focus on other spells, and the bound creatures failed to stir in response. I stepped forward, but Zuma grabbed my wrist. “What are you doing, hun?”

“I don’t know, goading the Archlitch?”

Within earshot, I heard Claudia announce. “We should grab Marianne,” and Hawthorn reply, “Go for it.”

“What do you mean ‘goading the Archlitch?’”

“Like- OK, so this is an ambush, right? I bet it thought it could surprise us and kill us with… whatever this was, and swoop in and grab Florence, but it didn’t work. So maybe it’s best that we grab Marianne and get it to come out here before it corrupts more creatures-”

“You’re not thinking of grabbing Florence, right?”

“Of course not. Just use me as bait.”

“It’s not going to go after you. It knows you can kill it.”

I shook my head, “But not now, right? Spores won’t work on the Oigd’yiadttigdeit’s body. And it doesn’t know about the poison.”

“But if it possesses you, you’ll both die.”

“I just gotta be quick with the poison.”

I was standing out, only a couple hindpaws or so from the rest of the animals, casting my gaze towards where I heard the Great Lake rumbling. It was a windy night. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and I scrutinized every bush and every shadow for potential hiding spots that the Archlitch might use, but I came up empty-pawed.

“What are you two talking about?” asked the Mracksiogne, approaching my husband and I.

I responded first. “Ways to not have to fight a bunch of feral animals again.”

“Claudia’s grabbing Marianne, we’ll go from there.”

“Sounds good.”

“Jouxlya didn’t clue you in on a way to draw the, um, Oiggy or, um, Archlitch out?”

I shook my head and patted the pocket with the potion. “Nope, we never figured that out.”

Just then, The three of us heard what sounded like the trunk of a tree splintering, followed by an enormous thud. The snapping sounds of broken wood didn’t cease, however, and it sounded as though something massive was crawling towards us.

“Stay alert, everyone,” commanded Hawthorn, “Group up by the door.”

Zuma, Ciro, Hawthorn, Zippo, and I all huddled up in a half-circle in front of the radio tower maintenance building as the slow, heavy thudding started marching closer and closer towards us from the tree line. I didn’t even need to access the Record to deduce that the Archlitch had fucked up a tree and sent it after us. We waited as the monstrosity crawled closer, closer, and closer. I could even see the sway of seagrass, as the plant-life wriggled and writhed, giving way to the long, hulking vegetable beast. I then proceeded to see dozens of thin, lashing tentacles striking madly into the air, seemingly coming from the body of the tree trunk. And finally, the horrid monster came into view

Alligator forearms and legs grew from the side of the trunk; six of them. Its backend was composed of clean-cut wood. It looked as though one single chop was all it took to fell the mighty oak. Its back was riddled in scales, moss, and tentacles, and its leaves were a bubbling mess of branches, rotting skin, shaggy white fur, and dripping white fungi. It couldn’t move fast, but considering the monstrosity’s weight, it wasn’t going to be easy to stop. Ciro stomped a hindpaw into the ground and attempted to skewer the being with stone spikes, but the tree monster seemed to feel no pain, and shook free from the spikes with ease. Zippo raised his paws towards the being, in the attempt to control its body functions, but the tree beast’s organ structure was far too alien for the tiger to find much success. Hawthorn tried to start another fire beneath it, but couldn’t conjure a flame large or hot enough to set the entire tree trunk ablaze. It wasn’t more than twenty hindpaws away, and crawled forward unrelentingly. All it had to do was touch us once, and we were dead.

All of the sudden, I saw the rotted, injured face of a deer out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t react before it proceeded to bite hard into my neck. I was so shocked, that pain hadn’t even set in yet as I watched fleshy tendrils like intestines spill out from my neck. I couldn’t even bring myself to scream. In a defeated, agonized stupor, I turned my head to see a dozen other deer suddenly manifest beside the five of us, sealing our fate.

But then, I continued to feel nothing. The deer continued chomping into me, but I then realized that it was merely passing through my body. These deer and my injuries were just an illusion, conjured by the puma, and they were enough to stop the arboreal monstrosity from inching forward further. In fact, the tree stood still, right where Hawthorn was attempting to cast another bonfire, but the entity was far too large and far too moist to burn with the size of flame that the scarred wolf was able to conjure.

Just then, Zippo shouted, “Quick, someone toss me a blade!”

Ever the Boy Scout, Hawthorn fetched a fold-out pocket knife from his pocket and thrust it into the white tiger’s grasping clutches. Zippo proceeded to slice a thin wound in his left paw in order to draw blood, and started whispering an old spell, almost sounding like Scottish Gaelic, but certainly composed in a lost Awngaimene tongue. “Deign moh theign sc’ourreduidh!” And just then, the sizeable orange-and-red fire that the Mracksiogne had summoned started to take on an uncanny blood-red hue, and bubble out as though it were also composed of lava. The fire spread out horizontally, and almost trapped the arboreal menace as though it were a tar pit. It took no time at all for the tree to succumb to the bloody fire, and flames of a more familiar color began to form on the beast’s back the more that the monstrosity lingered in Zippo’s trap. It wasn’t a spell that I’d seen the tiger use before. It was almost uncomfortable to watch the adhesive, blood-red puddle of liquid fire glow menacingly in the darkness, fed by magic and the big cat’s own blood.

“That takes care of that, dunn’it?” remarked Zippo casually as he began to cast Close Wounds on his paw.

Hawthorn was quick to clap the Europeans on their back. “Excellent work, Zippo and Zuma. This is great!”

“My paw disagrees, but you’ve piqued my curiosity. What’s great about that?”

“That tree monster formed just now, right? Which means that the Archlitch is nearby, instead of in some spirit dimension, and it doesn’t think it can take us out by itself.”

“That’s great and all,” started the Canadian coyote, “But why haven’t Marianne and Claudia come back yet?”

I stepped forward. “I’ll poke my head in there and be right back. I’m kind of useless here anyway.” Hawthorn nodded in a terse, affirmative manner, and I bolted towards the gap between Ciro’s stone wall and the door. It took me a few seconds of squeezing to get through, but I wasn’t about to advise that Ciro dismantle the wall. Within no time, I was once again in Marianne’s hallway. It was dark and silent, and I couldn’t even pick up any noise from the door that led to my own home. But somehow, I felt an almost throbbing sensation; breathing in the shadows of the home without any sound. I chose to ignore it; there was no time. When I thrust that door open, however, I was blocked by the gargoyle Palais, standing with his wingspan totally extended. “Oh, terribly sorry, Forseti,” retorted the gargoyle in his typical, light continental accent, “I wasn’t about to take any chances and let anything through.”

“What’s up, Palais? Why haven’t Marianne or Claudia come back yet?”

“Clare has disappeared, and the hyena possessing your otter friend believes that the poor pine marten has gotten himself possessed.”

“By what, exactly?”

The grotesque’s pig-and-reptile face dissolved into a grim visage. “He was able to deduce that the Archlitch created some bastardization of life through the Oigd’yiadttigdeit’s magic, killed them, and flung their spirits into the Summoner.”

“What in the- What the fuck does that mean?”

“The pine marten went mad and ran off into the woods.”

Palais stepped aside to let me in, but the horrifying concept stopped me in my tracks regardless of where the gargoyle stood. “That’s fucked up, is Mako OK?”

I then heard the hyena utilize Mako’s vocal chords to don as effeminate voice as possible. “That’s why I’m hanging around in poor Mako’s body, darling. Three’s a crowd, and all that.” The bruised, burned, and slightly static otter then sauntered towards me as though he were on a fashion runway. “I’m afraid it’s up to the otter to exorcise the poor mustelid, though. I’m more skilled in waking dead things up than putting them to sleep.”

“Then… do that?”

“Well, it’d be a bit foolish of me to skedaddle while the Archlitch is still out there, despoiling the sanctity of life as we know it and all that. Wouldn’t you agree, fox?” And then Heinrich proceeded to kiss me on my cheek. I’m not really sure what that was about. Even in dire, horrifying circumstances, the ancient hyena loved to embarrass the otter. I carried on without humoring the old Foulgydan ghost.

“OK, OK. Do you think you need Marianne to find Clare? I think we’re close to clinching this Archlitch thing for good-”

Just then, I felt my arm get severed off again.

Palais was quick to deliver a staggering blow to the perpetrator, and Mako-slash-Heinrich backed away from whatever attacked me, but it happened too quickly for me to see who exactly struck me. This time, the attack was no illusion. The all-too-familiar flood of bright, white pain seared through the gaping wound that once connected my right arm to its shoulder. I instinctively grasped the wound with my left paw, and staggered back towards the otter, letting Palais take on whatever had stricken me. I only saw the hind leg of a thin, wiry creature disappear behind the corner of a hallway, running towards my kitchen. I also spotted the tip of a thin blade. The Daggrebosko had just struck, one of Clare’s summoned beings. Whatever was possessing the pine marten had the ability to access his magic, and once again, it was being used to our disadvantage.

Palais turned to address my wound. “Forseti, your arm-”

“I know! It’s fine!” It still hurt badly enough to bring me to the threshold of shock, but there was too much at stake for me to submit entirely. “That’s… Clare’s thing, it’s an assassin, get the non-magic users into Marianne’s house, it’s not safe here.” I remember Zuma telling me about the beings his roommate could conjure, and what sort of threat they possessed. I wished we’d come across the fire-breathing chicken instead.

Heinrich behaved for once, and joined Palais as they ran outside towards the members of our party, waiting on standby. I rushed into my room, grabbed a scarf and a Wand of Sutures, haphazardly fixed my arm to the point where it wasn’t just dangling by the thin rhizomorphs that grasped at each other as they got close, and took a couple ibuprofen. All the while, I trained my gaze towards my door, waiting for the blade-wielding being to make a move against me again. I was ready this time, I could actually poison this thing.

It didn’t take too long before Jacksie, Rowena, Touchstone, and Florence scrambled single-file into Marianne’s home. Palais and Claudia took up the rear, I imagined that Marianne and Heinrich-slash-Mako stayed behind to attempt to exorcise Clare.

“Palais, could you not grab Marianne?”

“She didn’t want to leave the otter alone-”

But then I heard Marianne spew forth a flurry of French curses from my front lawn. I couldn’t make out any of the words from inside my house, until I heard the cat say something loud and clear. Something that completely stopped me in my tracks. “Rend Magic Asunder.”

Claudia and Palais were the closest animals near my immediate field of vision, though the gargoyle was quick to push past me towards his lover, declaring a panic-stricken “Merde!” Claudia knew I was going to chase after, and grabbed my shoulder. she too saw what fate had planned. “Stay safe. I’ll watch Florence.”

“Thank you.” I clutched at my severed arm and ran after the impossibly quick grotesque.

And there, in my snowy front yard, once again stood the body of the Oigd’yiadttigdeit. The Sphynx stood before it with her paws raised high.

Two-dimensional black-and-gray boxes sat in the middle of the air like free-hanging glass panes. The squares intersected with the Oigd’yiadttigdeit’s body, and even though the creature was already fairly muted in tone, the direct contact with these squares drained the entity of the rest of its color. This was the effect of a spell I’d never seen before. It seemed to completely immobilize the body of the creature possessed by the Archlitch.

Palais was also immobilized, however, having seemingly intersected one of the black panes while attempting to strike at the Archlitch. Marianne simply sat there, maintaining the spell, though a quick look at her face told me that the cat was entirely consumed by rage. The wrinkled lines on her face tightened as she furrowed her brow, and her cats’ eyes were narrowed enough to cut glass. But despite the strange reaction, everything seemed to have fallen into place. The Archlitch had been successfully trapped. I grabbed at the glass vial filled with poison and ran towards the Archlitch.

But then, the furless cat pivoted towards me and dropped one of her claws, extending it in my direction. “No! Not now!” I felt a sudden constricting in my chest, as though I were suffering a heart attack. It took every ounce of willpower not to drop the poison as I fell to the floor.

“What… are you…”

But the Sphynx ignored me, and turned back towards the Archlitch. “Teach me the spell.” That was the only thing she said. She made no ultimatums. She made no deals. She simply demanded that this evil entity teach her the spell to destroy magic, forsaking every single plan we had concocted to kill this damnable foe at the first opportunity.

I couldn’t catch my breath, and my chest screamed in a slow-burning agony that challenged the ardent pain emanating from my severed arm. I gripped at my breast uselessly with my one good paw. I looked towards the twisted, mantid face of the Oigd’yiadttigdeit. The Archlitch almost made the horrifying creature’s insect features look serene. It was uncomfortably calm amidst this sudden trap.

But then, Florence let out a blood-curdling scream from inside Marianne’s house. It was enough to break the Sphynx’s focus, and both the spell and the Archlitch disappeared within the blink of an eye. Though catching my breath was a herculean feat, I was finally able to fight the magical heart attack and pull myself to my knees. Marianne paid me no mind and sprinted into the house with unprecedented agility, and Palais scooped me up in his arms in order to chase after. The gargoyle’s pig face was grim. I didn’t have to ask him to know that he’d not been privy to this sudden betrayal either.

We crossed the threshold between Michigan and Louisiana, and I noticed Rowena sitting against the wall of the hallway, struggling to breathe. Her taser idled uselessly on the floor, having been knocked clear down the hallway. Jacksie, too, found herself coughing as though the wind had just been knocked out of her, collecting herself while on all fours. Something powerful seemed to have slammed the two animals into the walls. Zuma was feeling Rowena’s ribs for any sign of injury, and Claudia stood next to the doorway in case anything tried to get inside. With a wheezy voice, the deer begged, “It took Florence, go!” Palais carried me into Illinois.

That’s when I saw it. The Shadow. Now in the shape of a fox. It held Florence in its arms, carrying her as though she were a stuffed animal. Marianne stood in front of the stone barrier and screamed out, “No!” and blindly rushed towards the Shadow.

The other animals were on the beach, naturally. They were either fending off afflicted feral beasts or suffering some form of spell, but my focus was now entirely on Florence, Marianne, and the Shadow. Palais laid me on the ground before extending his wings and flying after the three of them. Even through the panicked daze, I found myself running as well. The Shadow ran with its trademark incredible speed into a clearing off in the distance, well out of the immediate reach of anyone else. But even from far off, I could see the obsidian being dripping black ooze that dissipated in the air, and I could see the whites of Florence’s eyes, fully exposed in fear. Then, the Shadow slammed the arctic vixen into the earth and held her in place, awaiting its master. Marianne and Palais weren’t close enough to fend it off. We were too late.

Florence kicked and writhed as we rushed towards the Shadow, but before anyone could so much as cast a spell, Florence’s draconic arm slashed at the neck of the entity.

And the Shadow’s head came off.

Where once stood a shadowy fox’s neck, instead streamed forth a flurry of rosebuds and ivy fronds. The being was biological after all, and Florence was able to use that to her advantage. No longer alive, the Shadow collapsed to the floor, unable to keep up the strength to pin the vixen. The shadowy essence dissolved in thin air entirely, and there, in the sand and grass, lay the body of Mary Johannson, now decapitated.

And then, the Oigd’yiadttigdeit, possessed by the Archlitch, manifested out of thin air once more.

Mariannne was quicker than both Palais and myself, and thrust a ritualistic dagger into her breast.

Palais recognized the spell immediately.

With a voice terse and rich with anguish, a tone I’d never heard from the gargoyle before, I heard him shout, “Marianne, no! No!” But the cat ignored him, mumbling the words to a spell over and over again. Words I’d never dare write down in print. Words to Eviscerate.

I still couldn’t notice anybody else. I vaguely recall watching the Archltch raise its sharp, segmented limbs and pushing somebody back with telekinesis, before doing it to a second animal. I didn’t notice who they were. I could only watch as Palais reached his own claw into his chest in order to pierce his own heart.

When a gargoyle dies, it petrifies, regardless of the time of day. Palais used this to his advantage, and while his claw was made of stone, he could come into contact with the Oigd’yiadttigdeit without succumbing to its changes. The gargoyle flew across the plain before his wings turned into stone entirely, and delivered two entirely surprising blows into the Archlitch’s head, completely staggering the being before it could resort to any magic. Palais had managed to push the five-limbed, pale entity far back from Florence’s body, and continued to land blow after powerful blow into the dazed Archlitch.

Marianne realized what had happened, and pulled the dagger from her chest. It wouldn’t kill her, she knew how to heal her wound. She could heal Palais’ as well, if only she could get close enough.

But the Archlitch faded from existence once more, teleporting away, and Palais had succumbed entirely to the petrification process. It was unreasonable to think that the cat could make it in time. And now, instead of changing into a whole statue, the gargoyle crumbled into dust.

Marianne let out a viscous, guttural scream that sounded nothing like a normal animal’s crying. She ran towards her deceased lover, incapable of heeding any danger or rationale. But her form began to change. An enormous hunch jutted out from the cat’s back, stopping the feline in her tracks. The sound of creaking, breaking bones resonated clearly throughout the night air as her limbs elongated, as well as her muzzle. Almost ashamed, she dug her face into her chest, obscuring it from view.

And she had begun to grow fur. Russet, red fur began to fill in over every square inch of the cat’s flesh. She continued to cry out; the same guttural, pained cries that sounded as though someone had forcibly ripped out her voice box. And she attempted to speak anyway, but no words were intelligible.

Hawthorn ran up towards Marianne first, but she pushed him backwards with an unnatural strength. And that was when she reared her head. But it was no longer the head of a cat. Her face was now that of a wolf’s, for indeed, Marianne wasn’t able to fight the overwhelming grief within her and prevent her curse from overwhelming her in turn.

La Bête du Gévaudan stalked once more.

And Florence was the only one close enough to reach out, to embrace the fell, cursed lycanthrope. Indeed, she stuck out a single arm, white as snow, beckoning towards the beast that was once Marianne. La Bête slashed a wicked gash across her face and ran off towards the treeline.