Impaled by Red Dawn, the two ghosts hung in the air like a grotesque scarecrow. The black-gray body of the imposter tossed around, trying to pull away from the blade, an inhuman howl escaping his throat. Letting out a shout of his own, Noah thrust the sword further in with all his might. Yanosh too didn’t loosen his grip despite his face twisting in agony, minuscule cracks starting to spread along his cheeks. Instead, his translucent fingers dug even deeper into the wraith’s body.

“We both perish here, Akh-Moren.” Yanosh’s whisper was like a gust of wind. “The sooner you give up, the sooner the pain will disappear.”

“What do you know about pain?” The Red Hands’ leader shrieked, the stolen face he was wearing starting to dissolve. “We were born from pain. We live in pain. We cause pain to prevent pain. We are pain! And you… you’ll die for naught. Again. Forever!”

Even before his cry ebbed off, Akh-Moren’s features began to bubble and change. Men and women, young and old, face after face emerged and disappeared, devoured by tendrils of darkness that wriggled around like a ball of worms. The sword in Noah’s hand started to quake and became scorching hot, prompting him to let go and stumble back. The spot where the blade pierced the two ghosts burned like the inside of a furnace, white sparks and black smoke rising into the air. Hidden beneath the wraith’s howls, the moan of deforming metal tickled Noah’s ears.

Driven by instinct, Noah lurched towards Shana, covering the child’s body with his own. From the corner of his eye, he saw Gregor struggling to get up and maneuvering between them and the entrapped ghosts while chanting.

“Gerash, no! Stay down!”

The next moment, a flash of brilliant light blinded him, accompanied by a sound akin to shattering glass as Red Dawn burst in a hail of sharp projectiles. What came after was a ringing silence that drowned all noise except for the drum of Noah’s heart. A second later, his body began to register the complaints coming from his left thigh and shoulder blade where shards from the broken sword had grazed him. Judging by the pain, the injuries were no more than shallow scratches.

With a low groan, Noah moved to the side and inspected Shana’s body. She had fainted at some point but otherwise, he found no injuries. A few raindrops fell on the child’s cheeks and rolled down, mixing with the tears that still trickled from her eyes. Noah brushed them away, leaving a smudge of gray on her pale skin.

“Sorry for being late, Starlet,” he whispered. “It’s over now.”

A rustle behind his back made the man scramble to his feet, a long curved dagger appearing in his hand ready for a fight. The two ghosts were gone, and so were the bizarre gray space and the magic vortex, the gazebo now back to its original shape. A small blackened circle on the ground showed the spot where Yanosh and Akh-Moren had perished. Red Dawn’s glistening silver-red shards were strewn around it, some even sticking out of the stone slabs like the needles of a hedgehog. The spot where Noah and Shana had landed showed fewer signs of devastation as someone had erected a small shield in the debris path. And that someone was now swaying on his feet just a step away.

Before Gregor’s legs gave out, Noah grabbed him and carefully lowered him to the ground.

“Looks… like you’re fine,” the young shaman mumbled, measuring up his lord.

“Fine? You rascal! Your weak barrier gave me another scar for the collection.” Noah patted Gregor’s shoulder and said with pretended sternness before smiling. “You did a good job.”

“Don't get stingy on your praises.” His friend coughed and closed his eyes. “I actually did a marvelous job. At least, unlike some, you don’t look like a pig skewer.”

“What…?”

It was then that Noah noticed the blade shard sticking out of the young Binshi’s abdomen, a patch of crimson starting to spread on his garments.

“We have injured!” Noah shouted and looked around frantically. “We need help!”

“It seems that… my barrier was indeed on the weaker side.” Gregor bit his lips, suppressing a whimper. “Father and grandmother will scold me again. Damn… It’s starting to hurt!”

“Then stop talking so much,” snapped Noah, trying to assess the seriousness of the young knight’s injury, “and start praying that it hasn’t hit your bowels or liver!”

“My hands… feel funny.” Gregor sucked in a sharp breath and his body shivered. “I’m an idiot! Quickly, pull the wretched thing out!”

“I can’t remove the shard right now or you’ll bleed to death. We should wait for baba Marishka-”

“No.” Gregor interrupted him, his tongue slurring the words. “I’m Binshi. This is Red Dawn’s shard. Pull… before… I fade…”

“Gerash!” Noah yelled and patted the young shaman’s cheeks but he no longer responded.

Cursing loudly, Noah began looking for other wounds but couldn’t find any. He felt for Gregor’s pulse. It was there but weak and fluttering. Still, the blood loss from the wound was not enough for someone like Gregor, who had lived through much worse, to lose consciousness.

Someone like Gregor?

His friend’s last words began to slowly sink in. Red Dawn was a sword that could kill wraiths and the Binshi were, by their nature, only a step away from apparitions. The fear of realization gripped Noah’s heart. The shard, lodged in Gregor’s body, was killing him!

Without further hesitation, Noah pulled the splitter and tossed it away. Blood gushed out, far more than one would expect from an injury this size, and trickled down his fingers - warm, sticky, and all too precious. Continuing to curse, Noah pressed the wound harder and bellowed:

“Help! We need a healer!”

His strained senses detected rushing steps coming from behind, carrying the low jingle of beads. Someone knelt beside him and a pair of shriveled hands entered Noah’s field of vision. A colorful scarf was pressed against the young shaman’s side in an attempt to stem the blood flow.

“Sorry for being late, my boy.” Kash-baba’s gravely voice was music to his ears. “It took me some time to make the old bones move after the merge was broken. What’s with the little one?”

“Red Dawn shattered.” Noah narrated curtly. “He was hit by a shard. I removed it but he is still unconscious. And the bleeding is getting stronger…”

“We’ll save him.” The old woman patted Noah’s trembling hands and raised her voice. “Dragosh, Veshta! Kupulak ostvete, dodete za mne! Breshe!”

The minute or two before the kukuls responded to their Grand Elder’s summons felt to Noah as an eternity. His mind was fixated on the young man before him. The scarf used as an improvised bandage was quickly dyed solid red by the ceaselessly streaming blood. Noah bit his lips, curses and prayers mixing together. Was he… going to kill another friend? Lose another of his kin? His mother had bled to death before him. Yanosh had bled to death in his arms. Why wouldn’t the blood stop?!

Through the fog filling his mind, he felt Kaash-baba’s soft touch and heard her calming voice.

“Step aside, child.”

“No! If we don’t press the wound he… he’ll…”

“Calm down. I will treat him. But you might get caught up in the hex. Trust me. Step aside.”

Reluctantly, Noah let go and slumped on the ground, cradling his bloody hands in his lap. Watching the three Binshi busying themselves around Gregor made him feel so useless. Both his body and mind were numb and sluggish, and he wished that all this was just a nightmare.

“Give me a mayak bead.” He heard Kash-baba ordering while drawing complex patterns around Gregor’s mouth with his own blood.

“But Akasha, only a single bead-” The kukul of Trout Stream tried to protest but was immediately cut off.

“Stop it, Veshta. I know your kukul has a reserve bead.” The old shaman’s tone was unusually chilly. “Don’t waste my time when a child’s life is in danger. Give me the mayak!”

The burly kukul grumbled but still procured a flattened polished bone bead from his waist pouch. Kash-baba grabbed it, put it between her closed palms, and blew on it. Her lips moved in a fast chant.

“A breath of life should anchor thee. Oh, straying soul, return to me!”

The old woman pried open Gregor’s mouth and put the bead under his tongue. The blood markings adorning the lower half of the young man’s face momentarily flared up before returning to their previous appearance.

“Give me the kukulak, Dragosh.” She stretched out her hand to the Binshi from Crescent Peak. “I know you always carry it around ever since that one kukul betrayed you.”

“I won’t be asking how you’ve learned my clan’s secrets,” a cranky male voice came from beneath the woman’s red veil, “but is it worth using it on someone life-bonded to a Limerian?”

“That Limerian just saved your Star-gazer from being snatched away by Mir-Mama knows what abomination while you cowered behind a barrier. Give the kukulak before I take it!”

The kukul flinched at the threat but didn’t argue further. He pulled out a filigree carved bone sphere the size of a man’s fist with gaps on its surface revealing several smaller spheres interlayed beneath the outer shell. Throwing it to Kash-baba, the kukul retreated back and, by what was visible from behind the red veil, he wasn’t very pleased. The old shaman ignored him. She pressed some hidden levers and five sharp needles appeared on one of its sides. Pulling apart his garments, Kash-baba was about to stab the needles in Gregor’s chest when Noah grabbed her hand.

“What are you doing to him? What is this thing?”

“Easy, child!” The old woman smiled back. “This is a kukulak. It is meant to forcefully extract one’s soul.”

“Wha…?”

“We need to separate his body and soul.” Kash-baba cut off Noah's protest. “The wound from Red Dawn won’t be able to heal while his soul is in the body. Rather, the soul will continue to disintegrate until nothing is left and he dies.”

Noah stared at her blankly, his grip loosening for a split second. Using the opportunity, the old Binshi plunged the needles into Gregor’s pale skin with a speed far exceeding what her aged body should have been able to exert.

“The majority of the Little Wolf’s soul will enter the kukulak and be protected and nurtured,” she said. “This will buy time for the wound to heal. Look, it’s starting.”

Before Noah’s eyes, the layers of spheres forming the artifact began to rotate around their axes and little specks of light began to gather in the very center of the kukulak.

“How…” Noah swallowed hard, “How long can he survive like this? I know that the longer a Binshi’s living soul is out, the harder it gets to merge back with the body.”

“The mayak bead that the kukul’s use will help with that.” Kash-baba brushed some sweat away from her forehead. “It is made for that exact purpose - to be a beacon so that one’s spirit can return after a long separation. Since I can’t take all parts of the young one’s soul without killing him, the part that’s left in the body will also call back and increase the effect of the mayak.”

“But… ” Noah hesitated, unwilling to say the words, “if some fragment of his soul is left, what would Red Dawn’s effect be on it?”

“If we are lucky, its presence will be too negligible and pass undetected by the sword’s magic. If not, his powers might be crippled to some extent. Worst case - he’ll die.”

Noah swayed. His eyes stared at his hands - still red from Gregor’s blood. Kash-baba put a hand on his head and said in a hushed, motherly voice:

“Don’t worry. The boy has a large soul-force and is still very young, he will overcome this hurdle. You need to be strong now. For him and for the little Moren-gadir. Leave the Wolf Mountain cub to me.”

Swallowing the knot in his throat, Noah struggled up. He nodded silently at the old shaman and went to where Shana lay. The two kukuls were kneeling down and checking her condition.

“How is she?” asked Noah hoarsely.

“Her body is fine.” The representative of Trout Stream clicked his tongue. “But she has put up barriers around her soul and we can’t reach her…”

“Move aside.”

The kukuls started protesting but a glare from Noah quickly gagged them even before Kash-baba was able to interfere. The Beast of Norden, despite being tired and injured, was not less dangerous, maybe even more dangerous now than usual, judging by what the two Binshi read in his eyes. And indeed, Noah wanted nothing more than to scream, to punch something, to hit and destroy everything in his path in the hope that it would drive away the pain ripping his heart. But it wouldn’t heal Gregor and Shana. It wouldn’t erase the guilt weighing on his shoulders. Had he been more vigilant; had he stopped Gregor in time; had he investigated Shana’s strange behavior more closely, maybe he could have prevented this.

Very gently, Noah scooped up Shana and cradled her to his chest, the warmth of her little body giving him some hope.

“Let’s get you warm and dry, Starlet,” he whispered tenderly.

To everyone’s surprise, the child stirred at the sound of his voice. Her eyelids fluttered and a pair of blue gems peeked at the Lord of Norden.

“Papa,” she muttered and snuggled in his shoulder, “I had a very bad dream… I did… something very bad…”

“Everything is fine now, my love.” Noah kissed her forehead and his hands wrapped tightly around her as if he feared that someone would snatch her away from his embrace. “Forget the bad things and close your eyes. I’ll be here. Don’t look. Sleep and have a sweet dream.”

With the child in his hands, he threw a final look at Gregor and Kash-baba, who gave him a reassuring nod, before turning his back to the stunned kukuls and leaving the gazebo.