Naz ran her knife over the sharpening block one last time, eliciting the drawn-out scraping sound of metal against metal. The weapon was different from the utilitarian knives that Ember had seen in Ciradyl and in the countryside, curved and claw-like. She gripped it by the leather-wrapped handle, slashing it diagonally through the air to test its sharpness.
“What type of weapon is that?” Ember asked.
“It’s a karambit,” Naz replied as she sunk the tip into the wooden plank by the door. “My martial arts instructors gifted it to me after I passed the first exam since it’s used for self-defense, my specialty.”
Ember looked at her quizzically. “Then should I bring a weapon as well?”
Naz shook her head. “Just remember what we prepared, though I hope it won’t come to that. A knife will do you more harm than good if you don’t know how to wield it.”
Ember nodded as the pisces strapped the knife to her waist. The all-black, form-fitting clothes that Ember had lent her covered the majority of the shimmering scales on her body, and she had let her hair down to conceal the sides of her face. Though she looked grim in the ensemble, her grip on the karambit was uncertain, and Ember had no delusions about her chances against the rogue.
“If he insists on going to the party, I’m going to the authorities,” Ember warned.
Her friend nodded, peering through a gap in the wooden planks. “It’s dark now. Let’s go.”
Careful not to make too much noise, Naz pried the boards off of the window using her knife. With a small boost from Ember, she scrambled onto the sill and jumped to the forest floor. Ember handed her their hand-held paraffin lantern and then climbed out herself, propping up the boards behind her to maintain the illusion that the barrier was still intact.
The two wasted no time in beginning their hike through the forest. It was a straight shot to the amphibia dorm, which was on the west side of campus, bordered by the Lion’s Tail River. They slipped between the trees, using game trails to skirt the main path and avoid the junctions where they knew officers would be stationed. The night was shrouded in darkness: the moon was a waning crescent, and the cooler weather had reduced the number of fireflies to only a handful. It seemed as though even the animals had sensed the tense atmosphere of the last week, because the usually-bustling forest was unnaturally still. The young women moved quickly, saying nothing as the disquiet weighed heavily upon them.
Naz grabbed Ember as a diagonal path intersected the trail that they had been following. “Let’s stop,” she whispered. “If the canines are coming from the mammalia dorm, they’ll have to pass through here.”
She blew out the lantern, and the two crouched amongst the fallen leaves. The darkness crept up between them, turning the world dark and fuzzy, and Ember found herself wishing that one of her mutations had been night vision.
The minutes passed agonizingly slowly. Branches rustled overhead, and Ember could hear the cracking of underbrush as larger animals moved somewhere in the distance. Her breaths came quickly and shallowly, feather-light yet too loud against the backdrop of the forest. Naz pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin atop them and rocking slowly back and forth.
It seemed a lifetime before the long-awaited sound of footsteps appeared behind them. Making its way down the path was a group consisting of the six canines that Ember had seen at the club, including Carn, and a handful of female students. They talked in loud whispers, snapping twigs with their heavy footsteps and playfully pushing each other toward the trees. They’d brought at least three lanterns, oblivious or uncaring to the danger that light could bring.
Ember cringed. Clearly, some of them have already had something to drink. It was a miracle that they haven’t been caught.
The two friends pressed themselves between the tree roots as the group neared, keeping in mind the canines’ keen sense of smell. Luckily, the unruly Linnaeans were too preoccupied to notice that anything was amiss, and the group passed by without incident. Ember and Naz exchanged a glance—they had no chance of talking to Carn with the others by his side. They followed close behind the group as it continued toward the abandoned equipment room, checking vigilantly for any sign of the rogue or campus patrols.
After a few minutes of walking, the group inexplicably came to a halt. One of the girls gestured animatedly, starting an argument within the group. Ember and Naz stayed back, hiding just within earshot.
“She said that she was coming,” the girl snapped. “She was supposed to meet us here.”
There was murmuring amongst the other Linnaeans. “I want to keep moving,” one interjected, pulling her jacket more tightly around her shoulders. Around half the group nodded their assent, while the rest seemed uncertain.
The canine with disk-shaped ears held up a hand. “Hey Carn, why don’t you wait here for Maria? You can join us once she comes.”
Ember frowned. The slight edge to his voice made his words seem more like a threat than a suggestion, and the timing of the incident was suspiciously convenient.
“Wait here… alone?” Carn asked, looking to the other canines for support. Some shrugged and others looked down, seemingly disinterested.
“Don’t worry,” the lead canine said smoothly. “The rogue won’t be interested in a mutt like you.”
Naz muttered something, and Ember elbowed her to be quiet. If they discover us now, the rogue might be the least of our worries.
As if in slow motion, the group continued down the path, leaving Carn behind. He stood in the center of the trail, watching them leave with his hands held out powerlessly. He fidgeted, holding his lantern up to the tree line and whispering a curse under his breath. Even in the low light, Ember could see that his mutations had progressed even further: his back had developed a slight hunch, his red fur had thickened over his arms and shoulders, and his forearms and calves had blackened in color.
The fox paced a few steps in either direction, growing more uncomfortable with each passing second. He set down the lantern and picked it up again, squinting in the low light. An animal howled in the distance, startling him, and he looked longingly in the direction that his friends had gone. Ember and Naz remained perfectly still, cautious to approach him and content to watch him agonize for just a moment.
A gust of wind blew, rustling the dry leaves. Carn raised his nose to the air, sniffing deeply. “Who’s there?” he growled. “I can smell you.”
After a wary glance at Ember, Naz stepped into the light. “You again?” Carn huffed, but Ember could tell he was relieved not to be alone.
“Come on,” Naz urged, “it’s not safe here. Let’s go back to Ember’s dorm.”
He tilted his head, appearing to consider her proposition, but soon dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “This is the last test. If I pass, I’ll be sworn in officially.”
“Don’t you understand?” Ember asked, her voice growing louder as she began to lose hope. “There is no ‘Maria’, they staged it all to haze you. Do you intend to stay out here all night?”
“I-” he stopped suddenly, interrupted by a high-pitched chirp from somewhere between the trees. It rang out twice more, sharp and unwelcome, and then faded into the background.
Ember twisted around in alarm. The noise was too loud and artificial to be from a rodent. She grabbed Naz’s arm. “We need to hurry.”
They both turned toward Carn again: he was facing the direction of the noise with his ears pricked and his nose twitching. His lips were drawn up over his canines, and his tail swished between him agitatedly.
Ember held up her hands. “Carn… calm down.” When he ignored her, she called out again. This time, he whipped around to face her, and she involuntarily took a step back. Like when he had stopped the bloodlusted wolf, the pupils of his orange eyes were reduced to slits.
He pawed the ground, taking a few tentative steps forward. “Don’t do it,” Ember warned. She stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the woods, but he stared right through her. With a whispered plea, she reached out for him, but his decision had already been made by factors out of their control.
With a snarl and a spring that marked the beginning of a hunt, Carn darted forward, catching Ember by the shoulder and knocking her to the ground. Naz grabbed for his legs, but he shook her off effortlessly, bolting into the pitch-black forest.
Naz ran her knife over the sharpening block one last time, eliciting the drawn-out scraping sound of metal against metal. The weapon was different from the utilitarian knives that Ember had seen in Ciradyl and in the countryside, curved and claw-like. She gripped it by the leather-wrapped handle, slashing it diagonally through the air to test its sharpness.
“What type of weapon is that?” Ember asked.
“It’s a karambit,” Naz replied as she sunk the tip into the wooden plank by the door. “My martial arts instructors gifted it to me after I passed the first exam since it’s used for self-defense, my specialty.”
Ember looked at her quizzically. “Then should I bring a weapon as well?”
Naz shook her head. “Just remember what we prepared, though I hope it won’t come to that. A knife will do you more harm than good if you don’t know how to wield it.”
Ember nodded as the pisces strapped the knife to her waist. The all-black, form-fitting clothes that Ember had lent her covered the majority of the shimmering scales on her body, and she had let her hair down to conceal the sides of her face. Though she looked grim in the ensemble, her grip on the karambit was uncertain, and Ember had no delusions about her chances against the rogue.
“If he insists on going to the party, I’m going to the authorities,” Ember warned.
Her friend nodded, peering through a gap in the wooden planks. “It’s dark now. Let’s go.”
Careful not to make too much noise, Naz pried the boards off of the window using her knife. With a small boost from Ember, she scrambled onto the sill and jumped to the forest floor. Ember handed her their hand-held paraffin lantern and then climbed out herself, propping up the boards behind her to maintain the illusion that the barrier was still intact.
The two wasted no time in beginning their hike through the forest. It was a straight shot to the amphibia dorm, which was on the west side of campus, bordered by the Lion’s Tail River. They slipped between the trees, using game trails to skirt the main path and avoid the junctions where they knew officers would be stationed. The night was shrouded in darkness: the moon was a waning crescent, and the cooler weather had reduced the number of fireflies to only a handful. It seemed as though even the animals had sensed the tense atmosphere of the last week, because the usually-bustling forest was unnaturally still. The young women moved quickly, saying nothing as the disquiet weighed heavily upon them.
Naz grabbed Ember as a diagonal path intersected the trail that they had been following. “Let’s stop,” she whispered. “If the canines are coming from the mammalia dorm, they’ll have to pass through here.”
She blew out the lantern, and the two crouched amongst the fallen leaves. The darkness crept up between them, turning the world dark and fuzzy, and Ember found herself wishing that one of her mutations had been night vision.
The minutes passed agonizingly slowly. Branches rustled overhead, and Ember could hear the cracking of underbrush as larger animals moved somewhere in the distance. Her breaths came quickly and shallowly, feather-light yet too loud against the backdrop of the forest. Naz pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin atop them and rocking slowly back and forth.
It seemed a lifetime before the long-awaited sound of footsteps appeared behind them. Making its way down the path was a group consisting of the six canines that Ember had seen at the club, including Carn, and a handful of female students. They talked in loud whispers, snapping twigs with their heavy footsteps and playfully pushing each other toward the trees. They’d brought at least three lanterns, oblivious or uncaring to the danger that light could bring.
Ember cringed. Clearly, some of them have already had something to drink. It was a miracle that they haven’t been caught.
The two friends pressed themselves between the tree roots as the group neared, keeping in mind the canines’ keen sense of smell. Luckily, the unruly Linnaeans were too preoccupied to notice that anything was amiss, and the group passed by without incident. Ember and Naz exchanged a glance—they had no chance of talking to Carn with the others by his side. They followed close behind the group as it continued toward the abandoned equipment room, checking vigilantly for any sign of the rogue or campus patrols.
After a few minutes of walking, the group inexplicably came to a halt. One of the girls gestured animatedly, starting an argument within the group. Ember and Naz stayed back, hiding just within earshot.
“She said that she was coming,” the girl snapped. “She was supposed to meet us here.”
There was murmuring amongst the other Linnaeans. “I want to keep moving,” one interjected, pulling her jacket more tightly around her shoulders. Around half the group nodded their assent, while the rest seemed uncertain.
The canine with disk-shaped ears held up a hand. “Hey Carn, why don’t you wait here for Maria? You can join us once she comes.”
Ember frowned. The slight edge to his voice made his words seem more like a threat than a suggestion, and the timing of the incident was suspiciously convenient.
“Wait here… alone?” Carn asked, looking to the other canines for support. Some shrugged and others looked down, seemingly disinterested.
“Don’t worry,” the lead canine said smoothly. “The rogue won’t be interested in a mutt like you.”
Naz muttered something, and Ember elbowed her to be quiet. If they discover us now, the rogue might be the least of our worries.
As if in slow motion, the group continued down the path, leaving Carn behind. He stood in the center of the trail, watching them leave with his hands held out powerlessly. He fidgeted, holding his lantern up to the tree line and whispering a curse under his breath. Even in the low light, Ember could see that his mutations had progressed even further: his back had developed a slight hunch, his red fur had thickened over his arms and shoulders, and his forearms and calves had blackened in color.
The fox paced a few steps in either direction, growing more uncomfortable with each passing second. He set down the lantern and picked it up again, squinting in the low light. An animal howled in the distance, startling him, and he looked longingly in the direction that his friends had gone. Ember and Naz remained perfectly still, cautious to approach him and content to watch him agonize for just a moment.
A gust of wind blew, rustling the dry leaves. Carn raised his nose to the air, sniffing deeply. “Who’s there?” he growled. “I can smell you.”
After a wary glance at Ember, Naz stepped into the light. “You again?” Carn huffed, but Ember could tell he was relieved not to be alone.
“Come on,” Naz urged, “it’s not safe here. Let’s go back to Ember’s dorm.”
He tilted his head, appearing to consider her proposition, but soon dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “This is the last test. If I pass, I’ll be sworn in officially.”
“Don’t you understand?” Ember asked, her voice growing louder as she began to lose hope. “There is no ‘Maria’, they staged it all to haze you. Do you intend to stay out here all night?”
“I-” he stopped suddenly, interrupted by a high-pitched chirp from somewhere between the trees. It rang out twice more, sharp and unwelcome, and then faded into the background.
Ember twisted around in alarm. The noise was too loud and artificial to be from a rodent. She grabbed Naz’s arm. “We need to hurry.”
They both turned toward Carn again: he was facing the direction of the noise with his ears pricked and his nose twitching. His lips were drawn up over his canines, and his tail swished between him agitatedly.
Ember held up her hands. “Carn… calm down.” When he ignored her, she called out again. This time, he whipped around to face her, and she involuntarily took a step back. Like when he had stopped the bloodlusted wolf, the pupils of his orange eyes were reduced to slits.
He pawed the ground, taking a few tentative steps forward. “Don’t do it,” Ember warned. She stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the woods, but he stared right through her. With a whispered plea, she reached out for him, but his decision had already been made by factors out of their control.
With a snarl and a spring that marked the beginning of a hunt, Carn darted forward, catching Ember by the shoulder and knocking her to the ground. Naz grabbed for his legs, but he shook her off effortlessly, bolting into the pitch-black forest.
