IX

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As Ulysses hit the floor, Ciar, Lonco, and Boak simultaneously took a staggered step back. Ciar blinked and looked around in a daze; her head was foggy and hurt like she had just woken up from sleeping on a rock--something she'd had more than enough experience with. The scenes around her also looked clearer; the thin haze of red was gone and there was more light.

"What happened?" Boak voiced the one thing that was buzzing around everyone's mind.

Lonco shook his head and put a steady hand on Ciar's shoulder. "I have no idea, but maybe our dear Ciar might know something..." He trailed off and threw a suspicious look at her.

In response she made a face. It was offensive how Lonco thought that just because she couldn't run her mouth off as much as him meant that he had the right throw accusations at her. He always had the habit of innocently placing things on her, whether knowing it or not. And what would Ciar have to do with any of this mess, of this--

Oh. Ciar mentally banged her head against a wall as the realization dawned on her. Magic. What she was under not even minutes ago was a sort of mind-cloaking magic, and after what happened at the camp... Well, she couldn't blame Lonco for being suspicious. But still, it made Ciar feel antsy. Why was he suspicious towards her? Or maybe be acted that way with everybody and she hadn't realized it? Unless... No, she was sure Lonco wasn't awake for that.

"Hey, Ciar?" Boak asked. He was beside Ulysses on the ground and shaking his head. "You might want to come here. Something isn't right."

She sighed as she joined the boys. Nothing was right. Channeling her inner medic, she put her finger against his neck to check his pulse. What was wrong-- She pulled her hand back and her face fell. Oh.

"What? What happened?" Lonco practically threw himself on top of Ulysses, tapping his cheeks and chest as if that would give him an answer. "Ciar, what's happening..." His voice trailed off as Ciar guided his hand to the base of his throat, where his heartbeat should have been.

Should have.

"Oh no. Oh no-no-no-no-no. No..."

•  •  •

The ground shook and Par chirped a quick warning before suddenly launching off her shoulder. Almost immediately after, a shock of dizziness hit Ciar at the same time every Huma fighter fell. Everyone except for the Cloaks and herself were on the ground, some still in bonds and others twitching and spasming.

"What are you?"

A Cloak caught Ciar's eye and took up a discarded bow. He gestured and an arrow appeared, automatically notching itself. He aimed directly at Ciar, and fired. She ducked, barely avoiding the projectile, and glared at the Cloak. So their leader wasn't the only one who had supernatural abilities.

"Watch out!"

Ciar was thrown head over heels as a burst of cold energy hit her back. She landed on her face at the feet of the Cloak who had just tried to shoot her. But he paid her no attention, too busy looking over at the... who was behind her? Well, there was only one way to find out.

In one swift move, Ciar jumped up and attempted to throw a shield-like burst of power to the Cloak. Sunset purple streaks flew from her hand in an eggshell shape as they flung the man into a tree a few feet back. It worked, but it wasn't as strong as she would have liked. At the same time, an icy finger ran down her back. Without thinking about it, Ciar turned and tossed up another shield. It was met with a burst of ice, thrown by a small boy with scarred arms. His face was a mask of shock and relief at the deflected icicle that Ciar was sure was meant for the Cloak.

She hadn't noticed before, but there were many more people in the jungle than there were seconds ago. These newcomers weren't clad in red cloaks, but were still using their magic. Instead of the Cloaks' vanishing and reappearing mechanics, these fighters used more natural talents, like the ice boy. Girls wearing white swung whips and swords, boys in black creating vortexes that flew their opponents into the air. How they all worked together, worked as one, reminded Ciar of fighting with the Huma.

And, whatever they were using, it was beating the Cloaks. Badly. Soon, more of their bodies began falling. Defeat was pounding on their front door, and the cocky leader--unscratched--saw it.

"We're going back!" he screamed. The remaining Cloaks acknowledged their leader however they could, and began retreating. They backed into a perfect circle before the leader waved his hands. Then they were gone, swept up into nothing.

Ciar had only a second to wonder where they went before she, too, began floating apart and drifting... and drifting...

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