Celeste Ledgerwood's Arc

Chapter 5 of 5

Azrael gagged, and gold light spilled from his open mouth. Each cough weakened him. But his choking screams did something worse than empty the well. They carried. Somewhere past the daggers, brush cracked. A low sound answered the baby, wet and hungry. Celeste turned. Something big was coming, drawn by the smell of swallowed souls. "Warren," she said. "What's out there?" The rabbit's ears flattened. "Something that eats what's dying. Don't wait to see it." Celeste couldn't tend the baby and fight at once. If she froze, both goals died. She needed the horror stopped so she could work. Her eyes swept the ground for anything useful. Near the well grew a tall lily, its petals bright pink and blue, oddly heavy with little charms. One charm was a green pit shape, carved with faint glowing marks. It hummed when her fingers brushed it. A summoning token. The thing broke through the brush. Part dragon, part rooster, part ape, it lumbered forward on scaled legs. Its body was painted with strange marks. It fixed one yellow eye on the choking baby and clacked its beak. Celeste gripped the green token. "Come on. Instant help. That's the whole pitch." She crushed it in her fist. Nothing happened. Then a small gray creature dropped from the lily, guitar in its paws, headphones over its ears. It landed between Celeste and the beast and struck a bright, bouncing chord. "That's my help?" Celeste said. "A cat band?" The little familiar sang. The notes hit the huge creature like a spell. It froze mid-step, then swayed. Its clawed feet began to stamp in rhythm. The song held it, but the familiar's eyes darted to Celeste, urgent. The music wouldn't last. Celeste grabbed Azrael. His skin was cold gray now. No milk, no time. But the well still held one thing. She jammed the baby's mouth toward a dagger that dripped green poison, the same poison that laced every platypus bottle in town. One bitter drop touched his tongue. Azrael's whole body shook. He coughed once, hard. A cloud of gold light flew out and scattered into the dark. The names were free of him. His skin flushed red again. He drew a huge breath and screamed, alive and furious. The swaying beast snorted. The song still gripped it. Celeste backed away with the howling baby. "Move," she told Warren. They ran past a sagging wooden shed, its lock panel sparking and broken. Celeste yanked the crooked door open, shoved the dancing creature's leash of music toward it, and the familiar herded the beast inside. The faulty door slammed. The lock crackled and held. Celeste slumped against the wood. Azrael wailed in her arms, healthy and loud. Warren stared at the shaking shed. "That won't hold forever," he said. "No," Celeste said. "But it'll hold long enough." Then she looked at the baby. The poison had saved his life. It hadn't made him quiet. And a caged horror was already scratching to get out.