Scott McCall's Arc

Chapter 29 of 30

The Acheron lunged first. Scott met it with claws bared, Derek snarling at his flank. The water creature struck like a wave, slamming Derek into the wall. Scott slashed at its chest. His claws passed through dark, churning sludge. It laughed with a stolen voice. Malik dropped his human shape. Bone stretched, fur bloomed black, gold markings flared along his arms. He rose tall — jackal head, glowing eyes, staff in hand. The tile beneath his feet scorched into a dark print. He swung the staff into the Acheron's ribs and the creature staggered, hissing water. High on the metal bleachers, Stiles dragged Isaac's limp body up another row. Isaac's head lolled. Stiles braced him against the top rail, panting, eyes locked on the fight below. "Lydia, hurry — hurry, hurry, hurry." Lydia knelt beside the beaker, hands shaking. The silver arrowhead sat inside, half-submerged. Deaton's voice crackled from her phone. She whispered the words back. The arrowhead began to glow. Gold bled into the silver, threading through it like veins. The glass cracked from the heat. A web split across the beaker, but it held. Down below, the Acheron caught Scott by the throat and lifted him off the floor. Derek tackled its legs. Malik drove the staff into its back. The creature roared and threw all three of them sliding across wet tile. Scott pushed up on one elbow, blood in his mouth, and looked up at the bleachers. Lydia stood. The gilded arrowhead burned bright in her palm, finished. She held it high so Scott could see. "Scott!" she shouted. "It's ready!" The Acheron turned its head toward her voice — and for the first time, it looked afraid.