Young Writers Society

[Harry]

Harry was starting to feel the burn. He’d been running around for almost half an hour now, and he knew he was slowing down, his jumps and spins getting less graceful by the minute. Rose was also not doing so great. She was being slowly backed up to the dead end. Her movements were almost sluggish, lot of magic being used for her to stay clear of the ghosts attacking her.

He'd long since given up on the hope that Clarke would make a return. In the heat of battle, he'd made the choice to trust the dirt master, but that had been much too long ago. He must've run off. Harry was going to have to call that in later. Sometimes he hated being right.

Harry ducked past another ghost, sliding along the stone, his clothes slick with sweat making him roll just a touch too far. He tried to scramble to his feet but he was too slow, his foot not quite where it should be. He couldn't control his momentum and then he was falling to the ground. He heard Rose yell out his name as his face whacked into the stone floor hard.

Immediately his vision blurred. He tried to fight through the pain, rolling over to see the four ghosts he'd just dodged come up around him. They were onto him in seconds, attacking with their hands of pure darkness.

He heard a scream before his senses started to suddenly fade. The cool floor beneath him was no more, Rose’s yells fading to mere background static. His vision was fading, everything turning to black. 

Darkness. Numbness. Silence

Heat. Light.

A brilliant flash of pink came into view as his vision suddenly returned. A pair of warm hands embraced him and lifted him off the floor.

“Please tell me you’re okay,” said Rose, sounding on the verge of tears. He opened his mouth to speak but it felt impossibly dry and he muttered something between a grunt and a croak. She hugged him tighter. 

He lost himself in the comfort for a few seconds before his senses returned in full force. He could feel that the ghosts were still about to converge on them. Whatever Rose had done; it had only worked for a few seconds. He concentrated. The only way they would live through this was if he could somehow banish the ghosts, his magic be damned. They were not going to go down in a goddamned cave of all things.

As blue light started to glow around him the darkness around parted like a carton. He looked up to see Terry arrive, waving a large cardboard box aggressively at the ghosts. Rose let go of him gently and offered him a hand. Harry smiled at her as he took it, getting back onto his feet. His feet gave a light tremble but Rose pulled him closer, allowing him to lean against her.

“Thank you,” he said, softly finally finding his voice.

“Anytime,” she said, smiling back.

“Are you two going to keep staring at each other or are we getting outta here?” asked Terry.

“Getting out of here,” croaked Harry, trying unsuccessfully to stand on his own. He ended up putting an arm around Rose and managing a somewhat steady stance.

“We have to teleport,” said Rose, turning to Terry, " Harry isn't in a condition to be walking at the moment. I need to give him a potion."

“Well its not like we can swim up that pipe anyway,” said Terry.

“Teleport,” said Harry, with a nod. 

The ghosts were recovering from Terry’s attack and starting to regroup. It was now or never. Terry charged towards the wall they’d come through, a wooden box clutched in his hand which had to be the key. He did it. He came back. Maybe Johnson was onto something after all. 

Terry vanished in a flash of purple light. The two of them exchanged a look before Harry concentrated, imagining the library. A few seconds later they were slumped against the shelf they'd been dancing in front of. It felt like a different world, the bright lights disorienting after the eerie blue glow they’d been in for the past half an hour or so. The air was calmer and less oppressive. Down there the air had contained an unnatural weight and now that Harry was up here, he could feel the difference.

Terry was standing there, holding the box triumphantly.

“Give me five,” said Harry, “I'll be as good as new.” 

"Oh no you don't mister, you're going to take something, or I'm teleporting you right back to medbay."

Harry harrumphed, but didn't counter that argument. He simply leaned against Rose as the two of them slowly sat down, leaning against the shelf.

“Looks like I arrived just about in time,” said Terry, after a minute of silence.

“I was just about to make my move Clarke,” said Harry.

Terry's face twisted in a light smirk. It was maybe the only genuine smile he'd seen on the man's face. “And what exactly would that move be?”

“Oh, something, what I want to know is what move did you make, I though you said you sucked at necromancy,” said Harry.

“Oh I just used a touch of necromancy. Just because I’m bad at it doesn’t mean I know nothing about it,” said Terry.

“Necromancy augmented, wide area stunning spell,’ said Rose, “same one I used I'm guessing. That thing is ridiculously draining on your magic, but good enough to get slow ghosts down temporarily.”

“Thanks again Rose,” said Harry," I was about to be history there."

“Hey, it’s what friends are for, right?” she asked, squeezing the hand that Harry had forgotten was still holding hers.

“You’re the best friend a guy can ask for,” he said, smiling.

“Hey I save both your butts,” reminded Terry, cutting across.

Harry nearly groaned. “And we’re very thankful for that Terry. Maybe you didn't bewitch our commander after all.

A slight shimmer of something that seemed like guilt flashed across Terry’s face but it was gone before Harry could process it properly.

“Well, here I am,” said Terry, “well, shall we figure out our next location then?”

“Might as well get started on it I suppose,” said Harry.