Scrabbling back further, Jack couldnt suppress the grim smile that crossed her lips as Illisar toppled from his mount and ground face first into the dirt. A grin that faded as the fell warrior slid back to its feet, spitting with rage. A grin that was replaced entirely with disgust as Illisar's mouthplates ratcheted back into its helm, and Jack found herself staring deep into the things putrid maw.
She shuddered as its tongue slithered from between torn lips, tasting the air, tasting her scent, with obscene glee. Its spear had vanished, as had the hellish horse it rode, but the skinwalker still had no misconceptions about whether she could beat it in a fight. There was only one way this could go if she decided, stupidly, to try and beat Illisar one on one. Worse was that the men were getting closer, fast. If they got anywhere near this, this abomination, then their deaths would be as swift as hers.
The dread rider raised one hand, once again calling on fell energies. Tongue flickering, the air around it warped, darkness coalescing around its fingers into the shape of a sword that dragged at the corners of her mind just looking at it. Pressing a palm to her aching shoulder, Jack blinked twice, judging the distance between Illisar, her, and the two 'heroes' charging headlong into their own deaths. She had a few seconds, maximum. Staring straight into the hellish visage of the creature, she started to murmur under her breath, a stream of syllables that would rewrite the fates, and maybe, just maybe give her a chance to escape. The magic took but a moment to call, its last words hissed, full of desperation, and Jack winced as she pushed a finger deeper into the wound, a single drop of blood falling from her fingertips, staining the grass below crimson.
Kicking from the ground like an Olympic sprinter, she launched forward, haring past the hunter and heading towards the boys, fast as her feet would move. Eyes wide, face urgent, she shouted out to both of them.
"What are you doing! Come on, run!"
In truth, this bodies failure had done her a favour. The blood dripping from her wounded shoulder was tainted with Illisars weave, stamped with his unique signature, and through that, Jack could twist his perception of truth, if only for a moment. Though she'd sprinted past, panting for breath and screaming her head off barely feet from him, if her skills held he would have seen or felt none of it, senses betraying him for scant seconds, imagingin her just standing there, long enough to for them get a head start and give her the time she needed to put together a real plan. Feet pounding the earth, she hoped the illusion held long enough, because it probably wouldnt work again...
"Dost thou not have a trophy to fail to win."
The barbed words echoed in Serra's mind as he watched his sister, cold eyes examining the studied ease with which she moved, the aloof gestures and detached questioning covering the storm that roiled behind that facade. They had never been able to truly hide anything from each other, each of them instinctually feeling, rather than knowing, the others intentions. His eyes closed, slowly, languidly, breaking the connection between them as the Lord of the High Court took an unnecessary breath. To have been away from her for so long, and now to be in her presence again like this, the two of them focused so intently on each other, called up a host of memories, not all of which were welcome.
"Lose the hunt?" Serra's smile spread, beatific below still closed eyes, tones honeyed. "Come, Irridihwe, dont be so foolish. I care little for such trivialities as this. This is but a priviledge for my courtiers, nothing more." He paused, drawing the silence out to the point of discomfort, the next words flowing from his mouth like so many rose petals, hiding the thorns beneath. "Our entitlements are earned through blood and through heritage. Of all in the three courts,
you especially should know this."
Both eyes snapped open, fixing her again with the full force of his radiance. "As for your other question, do not think to play at ignorance, milady. I know what it is you hunt for on this night, and it will not stand." In truth, it was but a suspicion, the intense focus Irridihwe had given those humans who seemed to be mated, her marking this human before them without hesitation, was markedly unlike her usual play. She had always taken pleasure in the taking, the seduction of her targets, slowly infiltrating their minds, baiting with temptation and promise until they could think of nothing else. To take with such brute force, such lack of finesse, meant she had a need, an urge that had to be slaked tonight. Through provoking her, Serra hoped that she would lose herself for a moment, say more than she intended to, perhaps inadvertently explain what it is she was truly hunting for.
His gaze turned from hers to the human, now staggering as he pulled himself to his feet, pain writ large across his features. Obviously the gift he had been given was far too much for his pathetic body to control. Contempt written across his own face, ignoring the man as he stumbled away from them into the darkness, Serra turned his attention back to Irridiwhe.
"Truly, it is no business of mine what it is you do, but would, do you think, the Erlking approve of your scheming, my darling sister?" This last was more threat than question, Serra's voice low as thunder on the horizon, and promising just as much. In truth, no matter what Irridihwe planned, Serra would never involve the King of the Forest, but it was this, the involvement of another authority between them, purposefully distancing himself from her again and invoking the wrath of her jealousy, that he hoped would push her into irrationality, into making a mistake. Trap set, he fell silent once more, awaiting her response.