The Bone Chapel

Mycelium

"Everett, if you can hear me, I am heading to the woods with Armand. Don't follow me."

Despite the fact Armand had no idea what I was thinking, I blushed with embarrassment at my desperate attempt to speak with Everett through our mental link. It was easier looking at my companion wolf face-to-face while receiving an immediate reply. However, trying to speak with him by simply sending my message out into the unknown felt foolish. Even if I was the only one who could hear my words.

Still, I continued.

"I promise we won't be there long and I trust Armand to protect me. I know you'll be mad, but this is something we had to do. Something isn't right about this attack."

I took a deep breath as we paused at the edge of the woods so my mage partner could cast his charm over us.

"There," he said with a clap of his hands. "We're cloaked and ready to go."

"Are you sure?" I raised my arms, finding them as visible as ever. I thought I would at least feel a slight tingling or something if the charm successfully masked our auras from the ghosts.

"Do you doubt my work?" Though he could have asked the question in offense, there was only a playful smirk on his lips.

"No, I just... I have very little experience with magic and I'd feel more comfortable with something tangible."

"Spoken like a true shifter," he said before stepping into the woods and out of the fields. "That's part of the whole Balance Theory, you know? That mages and shifters are like opposing magnets. Shifters are physical embodiments of magic while mages practice the more abstract magics."

He stomped through the underbrush, snapping twigs and crunching leaves while speaking as if we were chatting over coffee.

"Shouldn't we be a bit more quiet?" I whispered, taking cautious steps around fallen branches.

"Not when we have the concealing charm. Remember this isn't my first rodeo. Being stealthy has its uses, but right now we're in a time crunch. My charm conceals our auras and ghosts can't pick up noises unless they focus on it. With no auras to focus on, we're fine. However, we won't be fine if we don't get to Clementine before Graham decides he's done with Hen's stalling. So please, lead the way."

I looked at him for a moment, taking the time to push down all the instincts that told me to proceed with caution, before sighing and guiding him forward.

"So how many rodeos have you had?" I asked, figuring that if we could chat like we would over a meal at the Brew & Stew, then perhaps I should. If I was lucky, the banter might ease the nerves twitching all across my skin.

"More than I can count."

"Were... were they all assassinations?" I couldn't look back at him as I delved into his past. Instead, I kept my eyes on the trees ahead of me and the chapel that lay in the distance.

"No, but I'm admittedly pretty good at them so as the years have gone on, the more popular my deadly services have become."

I didn't know how to respond to that so I trekked forward with silence buffering the two of us. Eventually, he filled the void.

"Just so you know, those I have killed have body counts that far exceed my own. Figured that might make you feel better about walking through the woods with a professional executioner."

I tried to respond, but found my throat raspy and desperate for moisture. I swallowed down the discomfort of this conversation and finally found my words. "Does it make you feel better knowing that?"