With the sudden arrival of the howlers after the stampede, many villagers still cower behind buildings and walls. Taren draws an arrow immediately, searching for the closest target.

  I lost my bow amongst the scramble of the stampede. I draw my knife. With low mana, it’s all I have until the trickle of mana regeneration fills it.

  Evening touches the village as the sun hides behind the far trees and hills.

  More noise from the howlers, then they unhinge their jaws and strike.

  Taren pins one howler down before it can rush at Ferlon and the others with him. I see Honep and Orlen in the far distance running into the village.

  “Get Raimi and Denet somewhere safe,” Taren says as he releases another arrow. He must recognize my lack of mana. Then he dashes off towards the largest pack of howlers.

  I nod and pull the other two along. We head towards Marlene, who waits by her door, watching us with concern. Never before has such a short walk felt so difficult. I don’t want to attract the howlers’ attention until after Raimi and Denet are safe.

  Either the howlers are more intelligent than I expect, or they hear my thoughts, because before we’re halfway to Marlene, four howlers set upon us.

  I grit my teeth and brandish my knife. Nox clicks under my shirt, then bites me for a small boost of mana and stamina. I will use it well.

  I stamina burst forward before they can circle us. The first howler I reach has no time to react. I slash at it, cutting its ear. It dodges the other way, into my open palm. [Leech Grip] pulses, so much more powerful than the last time I faced howlers.

  But my mana’s still low.

  The first howler whimpers and breaks away to search for easier prey.

  I brace for an attack from the side, but nothing happens. I spin and see the other three howlers circle until they are between us and Marlene’s home. One howler snaps at the widow, and she closes the door until only a crack remains, enough for her to watch for our approach.

  Too intelligent.

  I’ll need to pick a different home to barricade in. I trail back to Raimi and Denet. Raimi recognizes the dilemma quickly.

  “We should go to the chapel,” she says. “Father Edrine will protect us.”

  I look instead toward the other stone building, a little further away. “Elder Rorahn’s home,” I say. Raimi frowns, but does not object.

  I stay in the back, my eye on the howlers. They follow. Every second I can spare to build mana, the better. I want to rush Raimi and Denet, but Denet trembles and struggles to take each step on the icy ground. Him slipping would only encourage an attack.

  I see Taren up with Honep and Orlen. They are surrounding a large pack of howlers and filling them with arrows. With the three of them, the village should be safe soon enough. But I thought there were three packs.

  As we near the side of the elder’s home, I hear a cry and find the rest of the howlers.

  Elder Rorahn defends a dozen villagers. He stands straight, his cane in the snow. His entire body grows, even his bow. He has no quiver. Light arrows appear in his hand time and time again, each shot dissolving a howler into dust.

  But there are still many more of the beasts.

  Dargan, the blacksmith, and Brennic, the miller, wield tools as weapons to hold back the howlers until Rorahn can defeat them. Their families hide behind them, crying out every time a howler snaps in their direction or ventures closer.

  I cast one last glance back at the howlers following us, then push Raimi and Denet forward, toward the group. We can stand stronger together.

  Maybe if we can break through these howlers, all of us can shelter in the elder’s home until the hunters finish cleansing the village.

  One howler leaps at Rorahn, but I intercept it and [Leech Grip] the beast until it breaks away. Raimi and Denet hide behind the elder with the others. Dargan and Brennic nod thanks to me and continue to swing their improvised weapons, keeping the howlers at bay.

  I join in the fray. I may not have much mana, but I don’t show it. I dive forward to cut into the howlers in front of the pack.

  While I stab at one beast, another clamps down on my knife arm and I hear Raimi cry out for me. The howler shakes me, either to break my grip on the knife or to weaken me, I’m unsure. I lose footing and slide across the snow, my free hand failing again and again to grab hold of the howler that thrashes me.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Finally, I grip its fur and dig my fingers tight. [Leech Grip] repairs my arm and the howler drops my arm.

  I still have my fingers tightly woven into its fur. I bury my knife in it as well and drive it home, mixing my strike with [Leech Grip] to bring it down. Vitality fills me, but my mana drains to almost nothing. I release my [Skill] in time to prevent the howler from crumbling to ash. It’s so weak it collapses under my weight.

  Two howlers charge me, but dissolve into dust before I can raise my knife.

  I look back to see Rorahn pulling back another arrow. His arms tremble. The old man doesn’t have the strength for a long fight.

  Brennic and Dargan aren’t doing more than distracting the beasts from their families. We desperately need the hunters to finish this fight.

  I can’t do more than intimidate with my knife while my mana replenishes at its slow rate. I hope my earlier attacks make them wary.

  Then I hear cries from my left and turn to find two howlers bringing down Dargan. I stamina burn to reach the blacksmith and stab the first howler I come into contact with. My other hand snatches at the second howler, whose long teeth pierce Dargan’s arm. I [Leech Grip] with my last mana and it breaks away.

  The two howlers fall back to their pack, which continues to circle the group, looking for a weak point. Another howler dissolves from a light arrow.

  Dargan lies in the snow, eyes closed. He breathes, but in ragged gulps, unconscious. His vitality must be low.

  My hand rests on the moss in my cloak, but I don’t have the mana to use it.

  I glance up at the howlers. I can’t stop long enough to treat Dargan, but if another howler gets at the blacksmith while I’m focused on fighting…

  Rorahn falls to one knee. His bow slips out of his fingers and lands in the snow beside him. The elder’s at the end of his strength.

  I have nothing left to give.

  The howlers charge in, the children and weaker villagers cry out in fear.

  Then a golden light erupts from Rorahn. The warmth fills me. A bubble of light grows by the second, throwing the howlers back.

  Rorahn continues to kneel, head down, but I can see the strain in him. This [Skill] of his will buy us some time.

  I look back to Dargan. If only I could produce mana faster. I can heal him some in the next seconds, but I can’t imagine Rorahn’s protection [Skill] will last long, or he would’ve used it from the start.

  Mana trickles in as the howlers circle the golden barrier, their unhinged jaws dangling as they wait.

  Dargan hacks a cough, and blood dribbles from his lips. His head and arms are a bloody mess. He grips his weapon, an iron poker, in one hand.

  Nox slips out of my shirt and sneaks onto Dargan. I can sense my friend bite the blacksmith, but nothing seems to change. Nox only has so much strength to spare.

  Then something ticks at the back of my mind, like many times before. I know this feeling—it signals something I must know, some [Skill] I should be able to pull together if I listen hard enough.

  I’m drawn back to Dargan. I sense something at his core, where vitality and mana are produced. Do I sense vitality? Or mana? Something itches at me to take hold of this new knowledge.

  Skill Acquired: [Soul Thread]

  Connect your soul to the soul of another, sharing a single vitality, mana, and stamina pool. Increased levels allow for more threads to be maintained. Threads can be detached at will. Passive ability to sense souls of any kind.

  Dargan’s core, his soul, lights in my mind, waiting for me to take hold of it.

  I feel the urge to bind my soul to his, but brush it away. Another [Skill] to mark me as a demon.

  I gain enough mana for [Leech Grip] and drain some of my moss to heal Dargan, but I don’t know how much I’ve helped.

  At that moment, the golden barrier falls. I twist to see Rorahn, face down in the snow.

  Brennic remains the only one standing to fend off the seven howlers that remain.

  Two howlers rush him. Another three go for Rorahn. Two for me and Dargan.

  It’s like the sheepdog all over again. I can’t protect anyone.

  Or can I?

  I touch a hand to Dargan’s unconscious form.

  [Soul Thread]

  A thin thread materializes before me, linking my core to Dargan’s. I feel a shock of loss as vitality breaks from me to balance out the bond, filling Dargan with vitality again. But then, I sense the new pool of overflowing mana. The blacksmith has a whole store of it.

  But there’s not enough mana in the world for [Skills] like mine to fight off so many howlers at once.

  Brennic falls back to protect his family members. Raimi and Denet cling to one another. Rorahn will be dead in a moment. Which do I fight for?

  There’s only one solution, only one thing I can do to keep them all safe.

  [Chilling Presence] erupts from my core, drawing from the new mana pool that Dargan and I share.

  The howlers skid in the snow and mud, then back away slowly. I can sense their fear. I produce enough to keep them back, but they remain at the edge of my reach, waiting. I must make them flee.

  I have mana now, but it’s not limitless. Dargan’s supply is smaller than my own when full. It’s no different from Rorahn’s protection bubble unless I do more.

  I pour mana into [Chilling Presence]. I stand, wary of my thread, unsure of how far it can reach, or if the others can see the thread.

  I face the howlers with my newfound strength of terror. I pulse with my [Skill], eliciting a stronger sense of terror. The howlers back away. I brandish my knife, then make a move as if to charge them, pushing the rest of my mana into [Chilling Presence]. I shout at them.

  The howlers scatter in four directions, breaking around the buildings that surround us, and whimpering as they race for the woods.

  I collapse in the snow, breaking my [Soul Thread] with Dargan, mana drained from both our pools.

  Then I hear a cry. No, sobbing. I spin to find the villagers cowering against the wall. Raimi shakes as tears fall from her cheeks. Denet’s eyes are wide, his pupils barely visible. He won’t meet my gaze.

  What have I done?