Rituals (Cainsville 5)

"But we're already speaking. Her demands are mere bluster. You wish to see your beloved Gwynn, Matilda?"

She fell silent, and then a voice called, "Olivia? Olivia!"

"Not going to answer him?" the sluagh said.

"What'd we have for lunch?" I shouted.

A strained chuckle that sounded like Patrick. "That's an interesting greeting."

"She's making certain she's speaking to me," the other voice said. "Thai food, which I am regretting after falling three stories."

"What happened?"

"The sluagh, evidently. Which is why you need to get out of here. They've laid a trap--"

"She's already fallen in," the sluagh called back. "We've chatted. It was lovely. Now go rescue your lover, Matilda. He's right down the next hall. Well, down the hall and down two stories, but I believe he's already managed to crawl out of the hole."

"Olivia?" Gabriel called. "Go back out to the car. We're on our way."

"Mmm, no, Gwynn," the sluagh said. "You may have made it to the second floor, but that's like finding the jailer left your cell door unlocked for his own amusement. How fast can you run, Mr. Walsh? Not very fast, I bet. You aren't built for running. Nor are you dressed for it. But try. Please. See how far you get from that hole."

I pictured him hesitating, thinking he could run faster than the sluagh presumed, while knowing it was futile, that the sluagh just wanted to see him try.

"Give us a name," Patrick called.

"What?" the sluagh said.

"Your name. Your title of address. You seem determined to turn this into a long conversation, so at the very least supply us with a name to call you."

"So we can exchange pleasantries while you escape?" The voice snorted. "Poor play, bocan. Poor play indeed."

A shriek rang out, an inhuman scream as the building itself shuddered. Gabriel shouted, "Get down, Olivia!" but Ricky was already knocking me to the floor.

A tornado of melltithiwyd whipped down the hall, their shrieks almost drowned out by the thunderous roar of their wings.

As Ricky lay over me

, I felt the batter of those wings and bodies against his back. He hissed in pain, and I scrambled out to help him, but the swarm was still slamming into him, pecking at his back. By the time I got up, the throng was hurtling down the hall.

I saw something else down that hall. A spot where the floor seemed black. Where the floor was missing.

As one body, the melltithiwyd swooped down that hole, and I ran toward it screaming, "No!"

A curse from Patrick and then a snarling shout in Welsh. A crash. A thump.

I reached the hole, and I think if Ricky hadn't tackled me, I might have done something as stupid as leap right into it.

I struggled free and crawled to the hole.

The swarm of melltithiwyd flew straight at me. Their beaks opened, blood-red maws of tiny shark teeth. When one looked at me, its blank white eyes morphed into human ones, roiling with rage and anguish and hate.

That one melltithiwyd flew at me, beak wide. Ricky yanked me back, but the thing sunk its teeth into my cheek. It ripped and then swooped for a second bite, and Ricky smacked it so hard it flew into the hole, tumbling head over tail. Its brethren continued flying by, battering us with wings and bodies.

When they passed, I peered into the hole and saw Gabriel rising from a pile of debris, Patrick lying beside him. I started to call down, to ask if they were all right. Then the single melltithiwyd Ricky had knocked into the hole swooped up, shrieking, maw open, teeth flashing.

Ricky grabbed the thing. It wasn't any bigger than a swallow, and his hand engulfed it. The melltithiwyd went wild, pecking but unable to reach him. He squeezed. It started to scream, a scream of rage that turned almost human as it thrashed and pecked, its beak still spattered with my blood. Ricky kept crushing it, his fingers digging into the dark red feathers. The tiny body contorted, and the melltithiwyd snarled, white eyes turning human. Ricky squeezed until gore and black blood ran down his arm. That's when it stopped snarling, stopped screaming, stopped pecking, stopped struggling.

Ricky whipped the mangled thing at the departing flock. It hit one, and as the creature turned, it struck another, a chain reaction, the last few melltithiwyd pecking and shrieking as the rest of the flock swirled out of sight.