Fuse by E.L. Todd

Three

The Shamans had only cometo town on one other occasion, and it was to interrogate a man who served in the king’s guard. Rumors had spread of their foulness. They were covered in black clothing, every inch of their skin hidden from sight. They had the form of a man but the stench of something dead. When they moved their heads, it was with peculiar slowness, as if they were birds searching for their next meal in the soil. Just their presence chased away all hope.

Cora had only seen them from a distance, and that was close enough. Despite her brave heart and fearless edge, she knew they were unbreakable opponents. Not a single weapon forged in her finery could match their power.

They didn’t even carry weapons.

She could only assume they were mages, possessing great magical power that couldn’t be matched with a blunt ax or a crossbow. Their defenses were deep inside their brains, and the fact that no one was certain what their powers were made them all the more frightening.

Dorian pulled Cora inside the home he shared with his family. “You’ll stay here tonight.”

She didn’t want to burden him with her presence. The house was small, and they already had three boys to look after. She was another mouth to feed, another person to occupy a bed. “I’ll be fine above the shop.” She’d taken up residence in the small space. It had a bed, a bathroom, and a kitchen. It wasn’t much, but it was more than enough for her.

“No.” Dorian locked the front door and hooked his broadsword to his hip. “No one knows why they’re here or what they want. We stick together.” Dorian never showed fear, but it was clear he was worried about the safety of his family. “Lie low. Keep the shop closed tomorrow.”

“That’s our business.” She tried to keep the hysteria out of her voice. Without income, they would have no way of buying meat from the butcher or getting eggs from the farmlands. “It has to stay open.”

“Nothing is worth our lives, Cora.” His brown eyes bored into hers, somehow convincing her with just a look. He had the unnatural ability to manipulate her with simple concern. “Stay inside and be quiet. End of story.”

* * *

A day had come and gone, but the Shamans were still in town. Without leaving the house, Cora knew they were there just from the heavy feeling in the air. Fear was around every corner. The springtime joys had quickly dissipated the second the Shamans arrived.

Dorian walked through the front door with meat and potatoes. “This should hold us over for a while.”

Cora immediately moved to him. “What are people saying?” She followed him all the way to the kitchen and watched him salt and prepare the meat. Warning was in her heart that something devastating would happen now that the Shamans had arrived. What did they want? Or, whom did they want?

Dorian rested both hands on the counter. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Cora found that hard to believe.

“No one’s talking,” Dorian said as he worked with the meat. “Everyone’s lips are sealed. All I can gather is they are questioning people about something.”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “The Shamans must have made a good threat to keep everyone from talking. Whatever it is they are interested in, it must be important.”

Very.

Dorian covered the meat and let it sit on the counter. “Don’t worry, Cora. If we can’t figure out why they’re here, then that’s probably a good thing. The less we know, the better.”

“Are they interrogating everyone?”

“That I don’t know,” Dorian said. “Hopefully, they’ll get what they want and leave.”

“Yeah…hopefully.”

Dorian sent her a look of encouragement before he gripped her by the shoulder and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “We’re a tough gang, Cora. We always make it through.”

* * *

Several days had come and gone, but the Shamans still hadn’t left. They weren’t always seen, but their presence was felt. The darkness that accompanied them everywhere seemed to follow them like a heavy cloud.

Cora was bored out of her mind.

Dorian told her to stay inside and forget about the shop, but when she wasn’t doing something with her hands, she went a little crazy. She’d just finished a new crossbow, but she hadn’t had the opportunity to even test it.

She needed to get out.

Dorian was helping his brother in the fields, and everyone else was in their bedrooms. If she slipped out then returned later, no one would notice. And if the Shamans came to the shop, she would simply hide upstairs.

After she made up her mind, she left the house then walked down the dirt road. The village was completely empty. No one was coming or going. The usual buoyant atmosphere was absent, as if it never existed at all. All the doors were locked, and the curtains were drawn over the windows.

It was a ghost town.

Cora was halfway to the shop when she heard a blood-curdling scream. It made her bones tense. Her heart went from a steady and slow rhythm to an explosive pace. That scream echoed in her ears, and she couldn’t shake it off. It wasn’t the sound of kids playing together in the dirt. It was a shout of absolute terror.

Cora turned down the alleyway between the butcher’s shop and the wax emporium. All she had was a short blade hanging from her hip. With the Shamans’ presence, it would be smart to keep walking, but Cora couldn’t ignore what she heard.

Someone needed help.

When she reached the end of the buildings, she turned left and spotted Tommy, the butcher’s eight-year-old son, hunched against the back wall. Tears were streaming down his face, and he was cowering over in fright.

A Shaman was there.

He was leaning over the child, making weird movements with his fingertips. He was wafting something toward him, the air or a specific smell. The scene looked too eerie. A smart person would have turned and run.

Cora pulled out her dagger and prepared to attack. “Stop whatever the hell you’re doing, Shaman.”

A high-pitched scream erupted from inside the dark hood. The creature immediately turned to Cora, his fingers still outstretched. His face couldn’t be seen inside the hood. It was just a sea of black. The creature was unnaturally still while he watched her. Then, he crooked his head to the left.

And that sent chills up her spine.

A low hiss erupted from inside the hood, formidable even though it lacked any words.

“Tommy, run.” Cora refused to take her eyes off the Shaman. To do so was instant death.

“No…” The carnal voice came out almost as a whisper. He turned back to the child and resumed whatever foul thing he was up to. His fingers started to work the air again, and he resumed his attempt to suck the life out of Tommy.

Anger exploded inside Cora’s heart, and she lunged forward with her blade at the ready. Without thinking twice about it, she stabbed her blade deep into his side and was repulsed to feel how soft it was. It wasn’t hard with muscle and bone. In fact, it felt like there was nothing there at all.

The Shaman turned quicker than the eye could follow, and without touching her, he threw up his open palm and sent her high into the air and across the dirt ten feet away.

She crashed hard onto the ground, immediately making her body ache from the collision. She knew she couldn’t stay down, no matter how much it hurt. If she didn’t get up, she would die.

Cora rose to her feet then pulled out the small dagger she kept in her boot. She took a defensive stance and eyed the Shaman without blinking. Now the creature adopted his own defensive stance like he was about to charge her.

That’s when she noticed Tommy was gone. He must have run off during the fight.

Thank goodness.

Cora knew she couldn’t outmatch this thing—whatever the hell it was. Her only option was to run. Even though her dagger was special, the first one she ever made, she grabbed it by the hilt and threw it as hard as she could, penetrating him right where the eye should be. The hilt extended past his hood, embedded into whatever flesh the fiend was composed of.

The Shaman shrieked and reached for the dagger.

And that was when Cora ran like hell.