Summary:The final battle between Skyla and the escaped clone.
Previous Parts (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)
In the Pit
Pretty exciting stuff, that last bit, eh? With the escapes and the kidnapping and the tranq guns and the rescues and the injuries and the miraculous healings- all the good stuff, right? Let me tell ya, you ain’t seen nothing yet, my friends, nothing yet. To get back into the story, there is Skyla, again on the trail of the nasty beast 9836-A, the head of lab security, Arthur Cummings, was looking for her, and Docs Mears and Kelly were at the university hospital, Doc Mears having been injured during the escape of the clone, 9836-A.
The trail of the Beast was wide and easily followed. The coward was running from Skyla rather than face his judgment- and he was brutal and careless in his panic. Sklya soon came upon an innocent- an elderman, weakened by time, beaten down on the path. He was bloodied head and shoulder, and he reeked of the monstrosity she hunted.
“Please,” the elderman whispered to her, the red of his lifeblood trickling out of his mouth and over the dark brown of his skin as he spoke.
“Take your ease, uncle,” Skyla soothed, “I will set it to rights.” She placed one slender hand on his bruised face and the other at the his heart, letting the healing bleed through her and into him.
Often in those times, Skyla had found this simple act of healing an innocent far harder than she remembered it to be. It seemed to take a great deal more of her strength than it used to, and more time as well. She was all but certain that it was to do with how those at the strange keep knew few or perhaps none of the True rituals. They showed Skyla little deference and took no particular heed when she advised them. They keep her vouchsafed inside the keep as if she did not have work to do in their world. They expected her to create havoc instead of restore peace. Mayhap the calling ritual they were using lacked something critical, and that lack hindered her access to her true font, to her powers.
The elderman beneath her hands gave a harsh, wet cough, rolled to his side and spit up lifeblood. Then he pushed himself up to sit and looked at her in awe and wonder, asking, “How did you…”
“Rest the next three days and nights,” she instructed him, and could not tarry any longer. The beast gained advantage with every breath she waited. She stood and followed the wide, wild trail again.