Renica and I kicked in the front door of the inn, charged inside–and twenty moonclaws pounced on us instantly. We fought as well as we could, but the monsters piled onto us, their claws ripping and their fangs tearing. Within a minute, we both dropped beneath the furious assault, dooming the city and probably a large part of the world to whatever was altering the balance.

At least, that’s what I imagined would have happened if we’d gone in the front door. Fortunately, I wasn’t quite tired enough to make that mistake.

My stomach churned as I slipped up to the inn and peered into one of the windows. They were shuttered, but I could see enough through the cracks to tell that a bunch of the cat monsters prowled the main floor, far more than I wanted to tangle with, even if I’d been fully healed. An odd, shimmering light filled the room; as I’d feared, our enemy had opened a portal inside it, which explained why so many of the giant kitties waited for us inside. If I wanted to close that portal, I’d need to find a way to either kill a lot of cats in a hurry or lure them out of the inn into the street.

“Fuck that,” I muttered, slipping back from the window. I didn’t really care about the portal; I was there to rescue Vikarik and the kids, and maybe Atana if she was still alive. Either the portal would close at sunrise, or it wouldn’t, and if it didn’t, the damn Cathedral people could come close it.

I’d done my part. I needed a damn nap.

Climbing up the building to the top floor carrying Renica’s rope on my wounded arm wasn’t easy, but hey, I could do hard things. Fortunately, the wall of the neighboring building was only three feet away, so I just put my back to that building and walked up the wall of the inn. The tough part was avoiding windows; I was worried that if one of the moonclaws saw me, they’d break through a window to reach me. When I reached the third floor, I tried the nearest window and found it locked. The blade of the Imperial dagger solved that problem, slipping between the two windows and sliding the lock easily enough. I slipped into an empty room and tied one end of the rope to the foot of the bed, then yanked on it twice to alert the woman below that it was safe to join me.

I sat down on the bed, closing my eyes for a moment, then rose quickly as I realized that I’d started to fall asleep. I found the room’s sink with a bucket of water still beside it and scooped some up, washing the blood from my hands and splashing more onto my face to help me wake up. That made me realize I was thirsty, and I wished that I hadn’t put my bloody hands into the bucket first. I didn’t know for sure that drinking water contaminated with moon-cursed blood was unhealthy, but I couldn’t imagine that it would be great for me.

I walked to the door, listening intently. I wished Renica would hurry up; she could feel the presence of the moonclaws, and it would be nice to know if there were any on the other side of the door.

“You know, your Sense Undead ability could tell you the same thing, John,” Sara reminded me.

“Dammit,” I sighed as I activated the ability. I’d forgotten that I had non-magical abilities as well as spells in this world. It was easy enough to blame my weariness, but the simple fact was, I really hadn’t spent enough time using those abilities to get a feel for them. That could take months or years, and after Kuan Yang, I had a feeling that the Doorverse wasn’t going to give me months just to practice. I’d been brought to that world because there was an imminent threat, not just a potential one; I had to assume the same thing applied in Soluminos.

As my ability activated, I felt the presence of the moon-cursed all around me. Several roamed the floor below me; I sensed one in the room to my right and another to my left; far below me, I distantly felt the horde of cats in the common room below. I also felt a trio of the creatures in the hallway beyond the door…

A loud bark rang out in the darkness, and the three cats screamed in reply. “Vikarik!” Renica said in a voice louder than I’d have preferred as she crested the window. “Ionat, she’s hurt!”

“She’s still alive, and she’s fighting,” I replied quietly, stepping between her and the door as she made a beeline for it. “And there are three of those things in the hallway outside, plus one in each of the rooms next to us. We can’t just charge out there, and we need to be quiet, so they don’t hear us.”

She set her jaw and nodded, lifting her crossbow. “What’s the plan?”

My plan had the benefit of simplicity, meaning it was about all my tired mind could come up with, honestly. Renica prepared herself, and I jerked the door open, stepped out into the hallway, and sighted on one of the three moonclaws trying to get into our room. The explosion from my pistol was incredibly loud in the enclosed space, making my ears ring. It also had the side effect of drowning out most of the screams of the three moonclaws; even so, the impact of those three cries made my head spin and nearly ruined my plan.

I managed to pull myself back through the doorway and off to the side, drawing my saber as the first moonclaw burst through the open door–and took Renica’s crossbow bolt directly in its face. I kicked it back into the hallway, then stabbed at the last of the creatures as it scrambled past the falling body of its comrade. The saber felt slightly awkward in my hand, but I slid the curved tip into the monster’s throat and tore it free with a spray of hot, red blood.

Screams rang out along the hallway as more moonclaws raced out, drawn by the scent of blood and the sounds of battle. I pulled another pistol, stepped out, and shot a monster in its chest before slipping back into the room. Another creature appeared, but I held it back with my saber, cutting at its chest and face. It dropped back, bleeding badly, but another took its place.

“Ready!” Renica shouted, and I thrust at the creature, forcing it back, then stepped to the side. Renica’s bolt slammed into its chest, and I kicked it back into the hallway, then cut at a new creature that lunged for me.

Keeping the monsters in the doorway helped me more than I anticipated. The moonclaws preferred to slash at their victims with their long arms, but the narrow door blocked their strikes. While the saber was meant to cut, it also had a sharp tip, and I had no problems thrusting it into the beasts’ bodies. I left them bleeding but still alive more often than not, and their thrashing and convulsions hampered the others who tried to attack. Whenever Renica called out, I slipped to the side, allowing her to kill a creature with her crossbow, and any time the beasts’ assaults slackened, I stepped over their bodies into the hall to kill another with a pistol and draw them our way.

Eventually, the press of bodies eased, and Sense Undead told me that the hallway was clear at last. I kicked the bodies of the cats aside and walked out cautiously, my senses extended. I couldn’t feel any creatures on the floor below us–apparently, we’d drawn the monsters from there as well–but I could feel them still gathered in the common room below. That was fine; I had no intention of clearing that. I just wanted to get Vikarik and the kids out, nothing more.

Vikarik stood in the doorway of our room, favoring one leg and growling as I approached. When Renica rushed past me and knelt beside the cairnik, wrapping her arms around the animal’s neck, though, Vikarik flopped down, her tail wagging happily.

“Oh, you’re okay,” Renica said, tears rolling down her face. “I’m so glad you’re okay! My sweet girl!”

I stepped past the pair into the room. Melania and Ferka huddled on the bed, their eyes wide and a little panicked as they stared at me. I didn’t blame them after a glance down at myself; I was covered in blood, bits of fur and flesh clung to me, and my shirt and pants were both ripped and torn from the cats’ claws.

“Are the two of you alright?” I asked them quietly.

Ferka blinked and seemed to recover himself. “Y-yes, sir,” the boy nodded, still holding his sister close, his eyes darting between my face and the saber in my hand. “The cairnik kept us safe, sir.”

“Of course, she did,” Renica said, her face pressed against Vikarik’s neck, muffling her voice. “That’s what I asked her to do, after all.”

“Is she okay?” I asked Renica.

The woman nodded. “She’s hurt, but she’ll be fine in a few days.”

“I’m glad.” I walked over to the window and pushed it open, peering out into the street below. I glanced at the three-story drop and the lack of good handholds and shook my head. “We’ll be better off getting out at the end of the hall. The rope’s already there, and we won’t be as visible when we climb down.”

“Out?” Melania squeaked, burrowing into her brother’s shoulder. “Go out there? We can’t! There are moon-cursed out there!”

“There are a lot more of them downstairs,” I shook my head. “We’ll be better off outside. We can make our way back to the Cathedral, get some rest and healing, and let them deal with this building.”

“Vikarik can’t climb down a rope, Ionat,” Renica pointed out, shaking her head. “And I won’t go without her.”

“We’ll tie the rope around her and lower her,” I said a bit impatiently.

“Why can’t we stay here, sir?” Ferka asked cautiously. “The cairnik was holding off the moon-cursed, and it looks like you fought them to get here. The three of you together…”

“Would be overrun,” I cut the boy off. “There are at least twenty of them downstairs, and more will keep coming every minute. I’m exhausted and Vikarik’s hurt.” I shook my head. “If we stay here, we’ll all die.”

“And if we sneak out but they spot us?” Renica asked. “I’d rather fight twenty of them in this hallway, where only a couple can attack at a time, than out in the open street.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the woman was right. All it would take would be a single growl from Vikarik or cry from one of the kids, and we could have the cats all over us. If one of them happened to glance out a window or through the open door, we’d be swarmed.

“You aren’t in any shape to fight them, John,” Sara said solemnly. “You might be able to heal yourself a little now, but with that poison in you, you’ll run out of raju a lot faster than normal. Besides, you need sleep, and I can’t think of a spell that can fix that.”

“Then I just need to make sure that they’re too distracted to notice us,” I thought back at her tiredly, my eyes sweeping the room. They rested on my pack and the brace of pistols, and I nodded. “That should work.”

I looked at Renica. “Go ahead and grab our things,” I told her. “Ferka, Melania, help her carry our packs. I’ll meet you all at the end of the hall in a couple minutes.”

“What are you going to do?” Renica demanded, standing between me and the door, her hands on her hips. “You can’t go fight those things yourself, Ionat.”

“No, I can’t,” I said earnestly in total agreement. “But I can make it so that they’re too busy to pay attention to us.” I gave her a tired grin. “Trust me, Renica. I want to live through this, too.”

She bit her lip, then nodded and began to grab the packs, directing the kids to gather items we’d taken out. I turned away from them and rummaged in my pack, pulling out my spare charges of black powder. I poured the charges into a leather pouch, packing the powder down gently and adding a dozen musket balls. I picked up a spare boot and unwound the lace from it, pushing it into the powder and rolling it around to gather as much on it as possible, then slipped one end into the middle of the powder and left the rest hanging out. I rolled up the pouch and stuffed it inside the boot. Renica kept glancing at me, nodding as she understood what I was making.

“I’ll go distract them,” I said quietly. “I’ll meet you at the end of the hallway in a couple minutes.”

I slipped into Stealth as I crept down the stairs with Detect Undead active. I hadn’t used the skill in a while, but it was Adept ranked, and I moved noiselessly down the stairs, staying close to the edge of each step where the wood would be least likely to squeak. The second floor looked much the same way the third had; the moonclaws had torn it apart, broken into the rooms, and killed everyone inside. Most of the bodies lay near the iron-banded door that led into the common room. Atana lay among them, surrounded by the bodies of moonclaws. The woman’s throat had been torn out, but it looked like she’d taken eight or ten of the monsters with her.

The door hung open, and I moved toward it silently. I felt the cats moving about below, their presence a kind of brown, muddy haze in my mind. I slipped up to the door and glanced down the stairs into the room beneath me.

The common room of the Dripping Knife was a slaughterhouse.

Bodies littered the floor, and blood lay thickly in pools across it. Most of the bodies were slashed open, either eviscerated or their throats torn out. A few looked like they’d been beaten to death, and more than one hand gripping a bloody table leg or piece of firewood showed that they’d been killed by other omeni, probably during that blood fever Renica spoke about. Tables and chairs lay scattered and smashed all around, and food and drinks were splattered across the floor. The fire in the fireplace still burned, mixing the scent of smoke with the heavy stench of death and spilled beer.

I noticed all this in a glance. Most of my attention focused on the swarm of moonclaws pacing around the room. I watched as they moved across the common room fitfully. One headed toward the open door, then hesitated, stopping as if jerked backward by a leash. It hissed and shivered before turning and heading back toward the center of the room.

“Well, that’s interesting,” I thought quietly. “Did that look like the cat was tethered here to you, too?”

“Try looking at it with magical sight, John. It’s clearer that way.”

I shifted my vision to focus on seeing magical energies, and the room below suddenly blazed with power. Muddy brown raju flowed through it thickly, staining the air with a chocolate haze. That power seemed to course from the direction of the kitchen, mingling with strands of gray, white, and red that wove and twisted in that direction. Those strands wrapped about one another like braids and lashed around the moonclaws I could see, entangling them in a sort of harness or web. When one of the moonclaws headed for the door, the braid blazed with grey and white light, tightening around them. The moonclaw struggled, and more brown energy poured off its body as it fought. Eventually, it surrendered to its binding and headed back toward the room.

“So, someone’s keeping them here,” I mused. “Gee, I wonder why.”

“You’re right, Ionat,” Sara sighed. “They’re probably all here to make sure that if you come back, you won’t survive. It might be Renica, as well, but…”

I nodded. Someone might target Renica as a survivor of Borava; in fact, that might have been the reason the creatures attacked the Cathedral in Panja, to silence Viora and Renica. I was the one who closed that portal, though, and I was the one who’d killed the Lomoraji and Vanator. Renica was a possible threat; I was an active one. Anyone who wanted to go after her would try to take me out of the picture, first.

“So, that’s bestial magic,” I thought, examining the brown haze emanating from the moonclaws and filling the room. Curious, I drew a strand of that brown raju toward myself, coiling it around my hand. It moved sluggishly, flowing as more of a dense mist than a clean, smooth tendril. The touch of it chilled my fingers, but as it contacted my skin, the anger I felt toward the cats below and their mysterious summoner began to grow, swelling as if feeding off the brown power. I released it, and the energy flowed away; my temper settled the moment the energy left my hand.

“Okay, bestial raju affects emotions,” I surmised.

“Yes,” Sara agreed. “Or, more accurately, it enhances your emotions. Anger is the emotion that’s predominant in you right now, and it took that anger and made it stronger. I’m not sure if it could generate an emotion that you don’t already have.”

“So, death affects your life force; blood affects your body; bestial affects your mind.” I sat back on my heels thoughtfully. “But all of them just change those things, right? Death can’t create new life, but it can destroy it or weaken it; blood can’t regrow or heal parts of your body, but it can make the ones you have stronger. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, that seems to be the case,” she answered.

“And solar magic strengthens and improves, but it doesn’t really create either,” I added. “I mean, I can turn sunlight into fire or light, but I’m not creating them, just changing them. I can speed up my natural healing, but I’m not actually creating new cells, am I?”

“No, you aren’t. You’re just vastly improving your body’s ability to heal itself and providing it the energy it needs to do that. It’s still doing all the work.” She hesitated. “Why, John?”

“Well, if neither solar nor lunar magic creates,” I said slowly, “then–where do the moon-cursed come from? They’re created, after all. What creates them?”

Sara remained silent, but my mind was already racing ahead. “You said that the world itself has an energy field,” I mused. “In fact, I think you were attributing some things to that field early on, right?”

“The world’s energy field,” Sara whispered. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“It makes sense,” I thought at her. “If the sun and moons generate magic, why not the world itself? Maybe the world creates things, and it’s the interaction between the magic of the sun and moons with the world’s magic that makes–well, everything, I suppose. Would that be possible?”

“More than possible, John,” Sara said excitedly. “If you’re right–and I think you are…” She fell silent. “I need to consider this. It’ll change some things. It might even explain…” She fell silent once more, and I could almost feel her shaking her head.

“You didn’t come down here for this, though,” she reminded me. “We’ll talk about it later, when you’re not stalling because you’re worried about what might happen.”

I grimaced but pulled the boot out and hefted it. She was right; I was stalling. I had no idea what this was going to do. Black powder burns rapidly, but uncontained, that’s all it does: burn. To make it explode, you have to contain it. The leather pouch and boot should have have turned the powder into a sort of pipe bomb, but they might not restrain it enough to really damage the moonclaws. It should still at least hurt their ears and maybe blind them a bit, though; that was about the best I could hope for.

I took a deep breath, waited until the area before me was clear, and tossed the boot into the center of the room. The cats whirled instantly, turning to face the boot before whipping their heads toward me, but I already had my right hand up, one finger pointed at the extended wick. I channeled what little raju I’d collected up along my body, into my arm, trying to avoid the poisoned left shoulder and hand. Despite my efforts, I felt a bit of the gathered raju vanish into the numbness of my shoulder, weakening the spell I was casting and causing the numbness to warm ever so slightly.

Less power than I’d intended rolled down my right arm, collecting at my finger and lashing out in a line of almost invisible flame an inch thick. The beam struck a moonclaw’s arm, burning through it, and I panicked for a moment, but the fire continued past the crippled monster and slammed into my target. The boot’s wick sputtered as it burst into hissing flame, the powder embedded in the cloth lace carrying the fire quickly along its length into the depths of the boot.

The moonclaws rushed toward me, but I slammed the heavy door shut and twisted the lock. The beasts struck it with a loud thud, and the door shook; I knew it wouldn’t last too long beneath their claws, but then, I hoped it would only have to hold for a few seconds. I quickly turned and sprinted toward the stairs, rushing up them as fast as I could. I didn’t know what kind of explosion I’d created–or even if there would be an explosion at all.

The sound of the boot going up reminded me a little of the sound of fireworks. It was a dull, low boom with a sharp crack at the end, followed by the screams of the moonclaws. I stumbled as the power of those screams slammed into me; even with my apparent resistance and blocked by walls, doors, and floors, the power of that many screams made my head spin for a moment. I picked myself up, noting that several of them had winked out to my Detect Undead’s senses. Even as I staggered back to my feet, though, more seemed to appear below me from nowhere.

I raced to the top floor and saw Renica leaning out the window at the end of the hall, her teeth gritted as her hands slowly let out loops of her rope. I rushed to her side and saw Melania clinging to the rope that was tied beneath her armpits, spinning slowly in the air as Renica lowered her gently toward her brother, waiting below.

“Need some help?” I asked her, grabbing the rope and taking up some of the weight.

“Yes,” she grunted. “Those kids are heavier than they look.”

Melania reached the ground, and Ferka quickly untied her. Renica hauled the rope back up, and the two of us tied Vikarik into a sort of cradle. Lowering the cairnik wasn’t easy, especially as tired as we both were, and my injured left hand screamed at the use I put it to, but I ignored it. Renica went down next, and I shimmied down last, my body aching and screaming at me from its wounds and the overuse it had seen.

“Okay, back to the Cathedral,” I panted. “We should be safer there, and we can get some help to clear this place out…”

I twisted as something moved in the corner of my vision, bringing my arm up to block. I faced a window leading into the common room; at least, there had been a window there. My little pipe bomb had worked, it seemed, and it shattered most of the room’s windows. Glass littered the ground below the window, and the shutters hung open, revealing a moonclaw scrambling through the window and leaping toward me. As the creature sprang, I jammed my already wounded arm into its face and snatched out my hatchet. The monster slammed into me and crashed me into the wall behind. I sliced the hatchet into the thing’s side, burying it between two of its ribs even as a crossbow bolt thudded into its throat. Blood spurted from both wounds, but as the creature kicked in its death throes, its fangs lashed out and sank into the meat of my forearm.

I roared as fire coursed from the wound, spilling up my veins and flowing into my chest. Every nerve shrieked in agony as the liquid flame flowed through my heart and poured out into my body. My vision tinged with red, and I knocked the dying moonclaw off me with a cry of rage and pain. Dark shapes appeared in my vision, and in my torment, I lashed out at them, assuming they caused my pain. I slashed with my hatchet and cut with my dagger, not caring about my injuries. Compared to the fire coursing through my body, the burning in my hand and shoulder was almost a relief.

More shapes swarmed toward me, seeming to appear from nowhere, and I cut into them mercilessly. My exhaustion vanished before the agony that filled my body, and I snatched a dagger up with my left hand, driving the blade into a shadowed figure. I didn’t recognize my attackers, but I didn’t care; in my pain and terror, I struck at anything in reach.

The last of the dark shapes fell, hacked to pieces, but a sound behind me made me whirl around to see four other figures sneaking up behind me to attack. Two smaller shapes clung to the legs of the tallest, presumably the leader and probably the inflictor of my torment. I hefted my weapons and readied myself to kill it, to end my suffering, but before I could, another shape appeared before me, its arms stretched wide.

“No, John,” it said, its voice speaking directly into my brain and cutting through the fog of pain. “Don’t let this control you.”

I roared with fury and struck at the figure, who seemed to slide past my blows like it saw them coming a mile away. I slashed and thrust, screaming and leaping at it, but it dodged my blows without effort, always seeming to hover just beyond the range of my strikes.

“Fight it, John,” the figure said insistently as it shifted to let an axe blow slide past its flesh harmlessly. “You have to listen to me. Don’t let the pain rule you. Master it. For Renica. For the children. For those slaughtered in Borava and Panja who need avenging.”

An image flashed unbidden in my eyes, one of a creature kneeling over the body of a child, its mouth smeared with red as it drained the kid of blood and life. I blinked, shaking my head, but the vision refused to fade, blocking anything else from my sight. A second later, the vision shifted, showing me clutching a red-dripping hatchet held high overhead. A girl of about ten cowered before me, her eyes wide and terrified as she stared at me in horror. In my face, she saw her death looming, and she shook her head, her mouth silently begging me for her life.

I froze as I realized that in my pain and rage, I’d become the thing I was supposed to hunt. I’d become the monster. I was about to kill a child, the one thing I’d sworn I’d never do.

The hatchet dropped as I fell to me knees, clutching my sides against the pain flowing through my body. My brain screamed at me to lash out, to end the agony, but I clenched my jaw and forced myself to ignore it. Doing so just made the pain worse, and I shivered as it surged through me, but I refused to give in to it. I wasn’t going to hurt a kid…not even if it killed me.

“You can stop the pain, John,” the figure’s voice spoke in my head. “You just have to focus.”

“How?” I half-sobbed. “How do I make it stop?”

“Like this.” An image appeared in my mind as the voice spoke, one that showed energy flowing around my left arm. “Just think of this and will it to happen, and the pain will end.”

The image made no sense to me, but I didn’t care; I would do anything to stop the pain. Well, almost anything. I pictured the energy she showed me, concentrated on it happening. I wanted it to happen with every fiber of my being…

Warmth and icy coldness flowed over me, sinking into my arm. The pain flowing through my body suddenly ebbed, seeming to pour back out the wound through which it had entered, and I sobbed again in relief as the fire in my blood cooled. My thoughts cleared as the venom drained away from my brain, and a moment later, the world swam back into sharp focus around me. I stared at the hacked, broken moonclaw bodies surrounding me–and the face of Renica, looking at me in terror and regret down the shaft of her loaded crossbow.

“Ionat, snap out of it!” she cried, and I saw the tears streaming down her face. She’d backed up until she stood at the edge of the alley, trying to stay away from me. Vikarik stood before her, the cairnik’s head low and a growl rising from her bared fangs. “Please! Don’t make me kill you!”

“I’m okay, Renica,” I said, my voice horse and weak. My throat burned from all the screaming I’d done, and my entire body ached like I’d been beaten with a hammer. Pain stabbed into my stomach and forearm from wounds I must have taken–and compared to what I’d just felt, those injuries seemed like gentle kisses.

“Ionat?” she said, her face turning hopeful. “Are you–are you back?”

“Yeah, I’m back,” I nodded. “I’m…” I took a deep breath, ignoring the flare of agony it sent through my stomach. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” she sobbed.

“Is Melania okay?” I asked, looking around for girl I’d menaced and nearly killed.

“Melania?” Renica’s face looked confused. “Yes, Ionat. She and Ferka ran when the blood fever hit you.”

“Sorry, John, you weren’t actually about to hurt her,” Sara’s voice spoke regretfully in my mind. “I just showed you that to draw you out of the rage. I know how you feel about hurting children.”

Anger flashed briefly through me as I realized she’d manipulated me, used my guilt against me, but I pushed it aside. She’d done it for good reason, to keep me from hurting Renica–and to make sure the hunter didn’t kill me. I didn’t like it, but I understood it.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “John, you need to heal yourself, but the poison–it’s sapping your raju, and you used a lot of it during your rage. I don’t know if you have enough left…”

A loud voice suddenly shouted from the street at the end of the alley. I couldn’t make out the words, but I felt a sudden surge of solar raju swelling out in front of the building. The shouting grew louder, and my eyes widened as I realized what was happening.

“Renica, get down!” I shouted, trying to grab her and pull her back. My stomach and arm screamed at me in protest, and instead of tackling the woman, I plunged to the street and landed hard. A sudden blast of flame swept over me, filling the air above me and flinging me backwards. Screams filled my ears as my head struck the wall opposite the inn, and stars swam in my vision before I sank into blackness.