Chapter 110 – Nightmare Fuel
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Mark swept his eyes over the scene again, this time looking for his friends and leaders. Frankie and Quinn weren’t visible, but several of Frankie’s fighters were near the central vortex. He had to assume those two were there, dealing with that. It was so far beyond Mark even at his best. He had to leave that to the experts and hope. He spotted Lucinda on the second pass, leaning up against a tree with one of the shifters from their medic group working on her. A thrill of fear for her health hit him, but she was already being treated and seemed to be awake. He couldn’t do much more himself.

What he could do was to get the average cultists sorted out, both for treatment and restraint. To unknot this pile of bodies that still surrounded him like a macabre dias. All Mark needed was a strong second.

His eyes settled on Maudy, the guard being held back by one of her teammates as she tried to rush towards the center. Right, Norris had been there. Mark knew Maudy well enough to know how badly she would be beating herself up over failing the old man, but Mark had also been there when Maudy gave her debrief. Norris had told her to run when it became obvious both that they were dealing with minions of the death mages who were armed with some enchantments and that Maudy was panicking in public. Of course, she’d panicked further by going moose to escape, creating even more of a mess, but Mark still thought that following Norris’ order was the correct choice. Norris often had some deeper plan going in moments like this and an old man was easily underestimated.

Maudy looked half a second from going moose and charging into the magical vortex of the ritual right now too. Which would likely only get her and everyone else there in trouble. The best fighters with the calmest heads were already there. Maudy was more like Mark. They had potential but they were in trouble way over their heads.

“Maudy!” Mark shouted, startling the guard and several other people, shifters and cultists alike. The noise of the people settled slightly, though the growing storm winds didn’t quiet. He could work with that. He swept his gaze quickly over the shifters visible, inventorying his assets. He pointed at Maudy, “Grab some restraints and shift. You and Paul are on chase and retrieval. Go catch the runners.”

Nodding, Maudy stopped fighting her teammate’s hold. Instead, she shot him a glance and the teammate slowly released her. A second later, a large moose took her place, joined shortly by a bobcat, and the two of them lopped off into the darkness. Paul could track in the dark better than the bear shifters that were the primary type in the Sleeping Bear Pack and Maudy had speed, size, and “don’t fuck with me” authority. They would be able to minimize their immediate security breaches, though Mark had no illusions that they would catch everyone. There had been a number of vehicles parked not far away and while Mark would bet on a moose against a vehicle in a collision, she wasn’t going to be running faster than highway speeds.

He moved on to the next task. Mark pointed at several shifters, giving them orders. “You, you, and you. You are on restraint and guard duty. Start taking the uninjured and minorly injured away from here to a place you can keep a proper eye on them.”

The next order went to a different group of shifters. “You three gather up the injured into an area over there,” Mark said with a gesture towards the area of the clearing furthest from the central tree and everything that it represented, “And get us some good lighting.”

And the dead, he thought but didn’t say. Mark really hoped that the number of actual dead were minimal.

Pointing at the next person, their best medic who was also the one working on Lucinda, Mark made a decision that he didn’t know enough to be specific there. “Get your medics together. Get someone on triage and start dealing with the worst of this. Deaths are not our goal! Save everyone you can.”

Mark switched tactics at that point, addressing the cultists. He’d been thinking of them as not people in order to keep going, but that wouldn’t cut it. “Anyone who surrenders will be treated humanely. Anyone who doesn’t will be detained forcibly, but still treated fairly. Legal authorities will be sorting out who are criminals, who are victims, and who are both. Our goal is to stop that,” Mark said loudly, projecting as clearly as possible and waving at the knot of magic nearby, “as well as to stop the mass murders conducted by your leader. Surrender and receive assistance.”

Mark barely kept himself from adding a please to the end of that, but choked it back. Commands would work better than emotional appeals in the current numb shock laying over most of the cultists. Most of them looked as ready to collapse like a house of cards as Mark felt under his calming potion. In fact, he could see many of them crumbling as he watched, throwing themselves at the mercy of the people with a plan, desperate for a world that made sense.

A new kind of frenzy overtook the gathering. There were still pockets of violence where someone’s fear or anger overcame any sort of common sense. Or maybe it was their fanaticism. Some or possibly even most of these people had been true believers in the cult. Mark had to wonder how tonight’s events looked to them. Their leaders had set up a ritual with human sacrifices in front of all of these cultists. Their investigation of the cult had implied that most of the members didn’t know about the murder and death aspects of their cult. They had all stayed for the ritual anyway, likely trapped by a combination of fear, wonder, and psychological manipulation.

And then a group of strangers had burst from the darkening woods to interrupt the ritual, some of whom had turned into animals before their eyes. Their leadership hadn’t saved them, focusing on defending the ritual, and then there was the berserker state that they’d been compelled into. Mark had no idea how much psychological damage that experience would do to someone. Did they remember their actions as part of a murderous horde? Did they remember flinging themselves at strangers, ready to tear them apart barehanded, or that they had trampled and climbed over their friends for that privilege? Sorting out the trauma from this event would be the work of months, if not years.

Mark certainly had enough nightmare fuel for years of therapy.

He shoved the thought away, getting back on task. Mark realized he had yet to move from where he’d managed to stand, barely, in the middle of the largest pile of injured. He wasn’t doing much good here, trapped in a whole new way by this living hell. There wasn’t a clear way to get out of the tangle of bodies without stepping on someone and it was too far to jump, especially from standing. Well, he could at least trample people much more lightly than most. He needed to get out of here, for both practicality and his own tenuous sanity.

Mark drew on his porcupine, letting the shift settle over him. A twenty-five pound poofy rodent was less damaging than an adult human male. Some of the women closest to him yelped, trying to move away as much as their entangled and injured states allowed. Mark decided the best thing he could do was to make this quick and began scrambling his way over prone women towards clear ground. He still took the care to not step on anyone’s face, privates, or injuries, as much as he could see in the poor lighting and general chaos.

The sensation of flesh under his paws still sent shivers up Mark’s spine and raised his quills, calming potion or not.

He was not okay. He just had to hold it together for a bit longer. He had to have faith that his packmates and allies could come together and do this thing. He needed to fulfill his role as a shaman, providing guidance and support.

As soon as Mark came within reach of the clear ground, he was surprised to be plucked up off the ground and held like a teddy bear. Only the sensation of pack kept him from shooting off a load of spiritual quills and the contact against his raised quills resulted in a couple of physical quills being stuck into his friend. Lucinda cursed quietly, but didn’t drop him. Apparently he hadn’t been the only one to worry.

She backed up his assessment by whispering into his ear. Or well, talking into his ear loud enough to heard over the rest of the noise, but quietly. “Are you alright, Mark? When they went berserk, it got chaotic and I lost track of you.”

Mark snorted, leaning into the pack bond to communicate. It was harder for him to use that feature given he didn’t share an animal type of Lucinda and they were both fairly solitary creatures, meaning their shifter magic had less inclination for the pack aspects of their powers, but he knew her way too well to struggle with it.

I’m not okay, Mark told her honestly, figuring Lucinda needed the truth. She was likely going to be the one to have to take over as he crumbled. Which he would. Later, hopefully. He continued, trying to find words to explain his state. I’m a bit banged up, but I don’t think I’m seriously hurt anywhere. I’m freaking out though. Once this clarity potion wears off, I’m going to be useless. So I have to do as much as possible before then.

Lucinda’s lips pressed together in a narrow line as she listened to his self-assessment. Then her head turned towards the tree and the magical storm spilling over on them. Mark could see nasty bruising on one side of her head and neck as she stiffly turned, though it was healing. “Right,” she said quietly, “Let’s do what we can. They are counting on us.”

She set Mark down on the ground and stepped back, not leaving until she saw him transform back to human. It took more willpower than Mark expected to make the change. Not because he was low on magic or hindered, but because he felt safer and simpler as a porcupine, his experiences less sharp. Unfortunately, he needed a proper voice and hands for the work ahead. Mark forced himself human again, trying to ignore the trembling in his hands as his calm wobbled.

He held himself together though. Rising to his feet, Mark looked around, affirming that their people had reorganized themselves into new teams. He looked towards Lucinda, “I’ll take the injured. You take the captives?”

Lucinda nodded, squaring her shoulders, and the two apprentices turned to their new tasks.

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