I was all loopy, my head spinning, but here I was, still breathing. Everything around me was a blur, like when you rub your eyes too hard. I couldn't figure out much or how long I was out. Just woke up confused. I laid there on the edge of Old Oak, trying to wrap my brain around the wild idea that I was still alive.

  So, was I still banged up? That thought wouldn't let go, making me feel strange. No pain, just this intense weakness. Time was doing some interesting acrobatics, leaving me stuck in this weird place between existence and a dream-like state of being.

  As my eyesight slowly unscrambled, I saw this total wreck. The Wights were scattered around, their bad auras completely snuffed out. The wolves stood there like nothing much had happened. I ran my fingers over my arm, a reminder of the nasty bite that had chomped down on me just a bit ago. To my surprise, the wound was closed like it never happened. My head still pounded with leftover disorientation, but I knew one thing clear as day: I made it. As I hauled myself back up, a new kind of determination buzzed through me. I was a bit worse for wear, but I wasn't about to back down. The challenges ahead might be great, but I was ready to face them head-on, thanks to the crazy luck that gave me another shot at this thing called life.

  "Tammy awake," Kor'tish spoke.

  "Kor'tish, did you do this? Did you heal me?"

  "Toufala ban dumi. Kor'tish had help from ancestors to heal Tammy with the life power of nature."

  "If my dad is hurt or dead, can you do that to save him?"

  "Hurt, yes," Kor'tish replied, though the look on his face showed he could not do anything if he was dead. That just meant we had to work faster.

  "Then we have no time to waste, Kor'tish. Let's go find him and get him out of any trouble."

  "Tammy got hurt. Should stay back."

  "Don't worry about me. I knew the risks going out here and didn't even expect to get help. I'll be fighting smarter from now on."

  Kor'tish nodded, disappearing into the tangle of trees. I jumped back on the ginormous wolf, pushing it forward. Amidst the Wights, Kor'tish danced like a master of war, taking them down in style and grace. He'd lift one and slam it down, breaking bones like twigs. Another got skewered by a perfect javelin throw. Nature itself seemed to follow his lead; he'd use it to trap or squash the Wights in a fissure that opened and closed. I didn't want to slow him down by going close and personal; no way I was going to end up messed up like before or, you know, dead. When it got chaotic, I dismounted, setting my arrows on fire with some cloth and matches I brought along. It worked like a charm. I might not have been as skilled of an archer as my father was a swordsman, but I hit my mark consistently. Ten flaming arrows a minute found their home in Wight chests, usually needing three arrows to take each down. It worked wonders, with the Herculean Wolf tearing into any creature that came close. I even salvaged some arrows and ripped some cloth off the fallen demons, all set to go again each time we tangled with the demons.

  We hadn't been fighting with the monsters for more than twenty minutes, but shooting arrows was turning out to be a lot more straining than I thought. I was used to hacking at wood all day, not releasing arrows for long periods of time. My fingers were growing fatigued. My shots were losing their oomph, but lucky for us, those arrows were packing a punch with the flames on their tips. That fire turned out to be the ultimate nightmare for those Wights. Once the arrow hit their raggedy clothes, it was over for them.

  We strolled to the cave entrance, and boom, Kor'tish slowed down, signaling us to rest. He tiptoed into that cave like a hunter, leaving us in suspense. My eyes quickly scanned the area, and there it was—huge bootprints in the dirt, definitely my father's. Relief washed over me; my dad was kicking, but not without a few battle scars.

  A little trail of red drops marked the path, like a breadcrumb trail of minor injuries he'd picked up. And there was a smell in the air. Smoke? It couldn't have been from a fire I caused because Kor'tish kept cooling the flames (although he did start to grow somewhat annoyed). The giant told me to stay put; I couldn't just hang back. If there was a chance my dad was still breathing, you bet I was going in. The cave was calling my name. It could be the secret lair of these wicked creatures, but I wasn't about to twiddle my thumbs when my dad might need help. So, I walked into the dark, ready to face whatever nightmares lurked inside.

  In the pitch-black darkness, I figured out that trying to fight without seeing anything was a surefire way to end up six feet under. Light was my friend. The trouble was, if I went for a torch, it meant saying goodbye to swinging my claymore around. And since my shield was destroyed, I couldn't use that on my other hand. That magical branch from the grove — maybe it wouldn't burn up? I eyed the gem from home that created water, thinking it could stop flames from spreading even if the branch did burn. Seemed worth a shot.

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  So, I wrapped the stick with cloth, splashed it with alcohol, and lit a torch. It wasn't just for seeing, though; it would destroy the monsters even better than before, taking advantage of their weakness to fire. I whipped up three emergency molotov cocktails and tied them and the water gem to my belt.

  With a good old club in hand, I looked around the now-lit cave. The rocks were dripping wet, making small puddles that helped me track their footprints better. They were all over, but I focused on the boots. Sneaking around was pointless since the demons could just see my light. I jogged along, not going so fast that I'd exhaust myself, all the while hearing the creepy skittering of unseen feet, rocks scraping, and the spooky groans of the Wights. They were close, but I kept going, not letting it distract me. I had the tools to win if I played it smart.

  I wandered into the cave halls, squinting into the darkness, ready for some unwelcome guests to crash the party. Out of nowhere, a screech echoed around the cavern. The grating sound of clawed feet on damp stone came from a short distance away. From the shadows, three Wights entered the flickering light of my makeshift torch. They scuttled on the walls like some sort of nightmarish spiders.

  As the torchlight welcomed the grotesque trio, their faces were revealed. Monstrous and warped, these creatures carried the remnants of their past lives in their twisted features. Empty eye sockets glowed with otherworldly crimson light, and their mouths, frozen in eternal agony, sent demonic shrieks that echoed through the cavern.

  I felt a knot in my stomach, and cold sweat drip from my forehead. I held my breath, feeling the damp, stagnant air and the fear clenched at my chest. Every fiber of my being screamed with a primal urge to flee, but my feet stayed rooted. In the dance of shadows and flickering light, I felt the weight of the cave's hostility pressing down on me, a force that threatened to drown me in nightmares.

  I sparked up one of the Molotovs, counting the seconds until those Wights closed in. As soon as one stumbled into my range, I chucked the fiery bottle at its feet, turning it into an instant bonfire. The other two dodged the flames, but one leaped at me, claws first. Quick sidestep and it missed. Before it could recover, I smacked it on the side of the head, sending it stumbling into the Molotov's fiery hug. The last demon dropped low and crept toward me, those ghoulish red eyes staring into my soul. It lunged, striking with a frenzy. The first two blows I blocked, but the third sliced across my left shoulder and chest. I felt a shiver down my spine—the same poison from the grove. Fought it, knowing it could snuff me out in a heartbeat. Time was tight, so I swung hard, aiming for that Wight's head. It ducked under and clamped its teeth deep into my hip. As it pulled back, I smashed its noggin with an overhand chop. It lost its footing, making it easy to toss it right into the blazing party.

  I crumpled to one knee, legs shaking like leaves in a storm. The poison had its icy fingers around my muscles, squeezing until I couldn't feel a damn thing. I blew out the torch and tried to slink under the charred mess of the Wight's remains, using its burnt smell to mask my own scent. Poison dug in, numbness spreading like wildfire. Demonic sounds reflected on the walls, twisted and horrifying, but I was too weak to scream. Had to pray they'd walk right past me. No use staying awake. I shut my eyes, taking a gamble on a nap. I would either wake up fresh for the next brawl or just not wake up at all. Couldn't fight back anyway. Easy choice – I didn't want a front-row seat for my death.

  Suddenly, my eyes popped open, and I clenched my fist as feeling returned to my limbs. Listening hard, there was this unnatural silence. Every second counted, and missing even a tiny detail could mean trouble. The cloth on my club still smelled like smoke, meaning I could not have been out for long. Quick as a flash, I slapped on another piece, set it on fire, and checked my surroundings fast. Lucky me—nothing sneaky lurking around. Thank the stars for that.

  No time to hang around feeling relieved, though. I was failing at this whole rescue thing, which bothered me. Kor'tish had either gotten to my dad or... there was nothing left of him. But I wasn't giving up. Fresh Wight tracks were all over, just minutes old, showing they were close. Sticking to the path I'd been on, I thought about shouting for Dad, like a last-ditch effort to let him know I was there. The smart part of me shut that idea down; yelling might bring a bunch of demons. Even though the caves felt all spooky, I toughened up and kept going.

  I found a bunch of dead Wights in the caverns. Their quiet end explained why it was so silent when I first woke up, giving me a weird feeling of safety. Even though I knew Kor'tish might not be happy with me ignoring his orders, seeing the dead monsters made me think he was close. I checked for his footprints, hoping to catch up, but the ground didn't show anything. It was crazy how such a huge guy could move so quietly, slipping around like a ghost.

  Suddenly, I was yanked back before I could figure out what was going on, even with my magic pendant protecting me. The grip loosened when I turned around, and Kor'tish stood next to my dad. I felt a wave of relief, ready to hug my dad, but he raised his hands to stop me.

  "You'll set me on fire with that torch, Thamolin. I get it, but let's focus on getting out of here first," he warned.

  I nodded, and as my dad turned to acknowledge Kor'tish, I did the same. The green giant nodded for us to follow, taking the lead as we started on our way to safety.