Rising Shadows

Emily's first order of business was to write a letter to her family, telling them she was going out to thwart The Dollmaker. She knew they wouldn't understand, but she assured them it was something she needed to do. Then she went downstairs and cooked Percy dinner. She had laced it with something to knock him out and make him sleep heavily, but had done the dosage just right so that it wouldn't fully kick into his system right away. They ate in silence, Emily's stomach so tied up in frightened knots that she could barely choke down any of her soup.

Percy seemed tired and distracted, and she wondered just what the dark spirit was doing to him. She knew it was with him; could feel it watching her. She had the insane and childish urge to stick her tongue out at it. Of course, Percy would think she was doing it to him, and probably snap her neck. After he had finished eating she hastily stood.

"I'll take care of that," she murmured. "Go lie down, you're obviously exhausted. I'll be up soon."

She half expected him to snap at her for telling him what to do, but her demure demeanor must have assuaged the dark mood he'd been in and he just nodded and disappeared upstairs. Emily hastily cleaned up and then hurried after him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking a little woozy as he took off his boots and shrugged out of his jacket. Emily moved to help him.

"Let me," she said, taking the jacket. She gently pushed him back onto the bed, then sat beside him. She brushed hair out of his face, his eyes starting to become a little unfocused.

"The sleeping medication is kicking in," she said softly. "I'm so sorry to do this to you, but I can't let you stop me from leaving the house. And I don't want that thing making you do anything else awful. I might not make it through tonight. But it will be worth it, if I can save you. I know you'll be all right without me. You're the strong one and you can survive anything. And you have a family, even if it's not the same as Malina and Colt. Make sure you look out for Finn, if I don't come back. He really does look up to you."

Emily paused and swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in her throat before continuing. "I love you so much, Percy. I just hope when this is all over that you remember that again."

She reached down and untied her pendant from around her ankle, slipping it over Percy's neck. She covered him with the blanket as he started to doze off, blinking in confusion. Emily felt a chill sweep across the room and when she looked up she could see the dark spirit hovering near him without wearing her glasses. It hovered in the corner, blending with the shadows and radiating malice.

"I won't let you have him," Emily said fiercely, straightening. She spun on her heel and swept out of the room. Colt appeared when she reached the bottom of the stairs.

"You realize what you're doing is incredibly reckless," he said.

"What else do you expect me to do?" she shot back. "Girls are dying. Percy's soul is being torn apart. I have no other choice."

Colt pursed his lips. "You shouldn't be going alone. Can't these brothers of yours help?"

"They would never let me go. Millicent came to me for help, so I'm the one that has to do this. And Percy is my husband. It's up to me to save him."

Emily marched out the front door, going first to her father's house to leave the letter. She slipped it under the door, knowing no one would find it until the next morning. Then she made her way to the docks down in The Smokes. Based on the pattern The Dollmaker had been following so far, he was due for another murder. Emily had a small pistol filled with her acidic bullets tucked into a holster on her calf, and the elegant looking pin in her hair was razor sharp and served as an excellent weapon. She strained her ears, trying to pick up any noise but the damp fog made everything hazy and muffled.

She was starting to grow disheartened, afraid he wasn't prowling tonight. Then she heard soft booted footfalls behind her. She grew tense and rigid as a familiar voice floated to her on the night air.

"Evening, pigeon. Nice night for a stroll, isn't it?"

Emily turned and stared at the cloaked figure behind her. She couldn't see his whole face, just a flash of a white, predatory smile.

"You're welcome to try and run, poppet," he said. Emily took a step back, seeing his hands twitch; as though he couldn't wait to wrap them around her neck. She tugged the pin from her hair and slashed at him, leaving a gash across his cheek. He hissed and lunged forward faster than she had expected. She hastily backpedaled, darting away from him. She ducked behind a barrel, trying to listen for footsteps over the sound of her racing heartbeat and the lap of the water behind her.

At first Emily heard nothing, and she tentatively began to stand up. She saw the shape in the shadows too late, and he sprang at her, knocking her roughly to the ground. She lashed out, kicking him in the knee and scrambling backwards as she pulled her pistol free. She screamed as a booted foot came down hard on her wrist. She felt the bone shatter and the gun clattered away from her, out onto the wooden dock.

Emily cringed back, trying to get on her feet. A sharp kick to her ribs had her gasping for air.

"You're an interesting one," The Dollmaker mused, walking casually closer and kicking her again. "I've never found a girl with so much fight before."

"You won't have a chance to meet any more, either," Emily gasped. That made him laugh.

"It's almost a shame to kill you, pet." He knelt in front of her prone form and she kicked him again, this time snapping his head back as her heel met his jaw. His hood fell back to reveal pale blue-gray eyes that gleamed with fury and carefully combed dark hair that was now mussed. He locked his grip around her broken wrist and her vision blurred. He pulled her forward and used his other hand to grab her hair. He slammed her face into the wood and she was stunned for a moment. She felt wetness on her face and realized he'd given her a nasty gash on her forehead.

The Dollmaker rolled her over, planting his knee in her chest to keep her pinned. His hands locked around her throat. Abruptly he toppled off of her and Emily sucked in a gasp of air before rolling onto her knees and moving unsteadily to her feet. She was startled to see Millicent's ghost standing on the dock. She was the one who had pushed him off of Emily. Emily started searching wildly for her fallen pistol, crying out as The Dollmaker's weight slammed into her. She was already dizzy from the blow to her head and she lost her footing, The Dollmaker's hands still gripping her shoulders.

Icy water closed over her head, dazing her further. She flailed wildly in the water, the fabric of her dress helping to weigh her down as The Dollmaker kept his iron hold on her. Emily twisted, her lungs screaming for air. A pair of ghostly hands wrenched The Dollmaker away from her, then caught Emily's arms and pushed her upward toward the surface. Her head broke the water and she gulped air. She feebly struggled to pull herself up, but her good wrist lacked the strength. Another hand closed around it, dragging her out of the water and she looked up to find Colt standing there. Choking and sputtering, Emily crawled across the dock to reach her gun.

The Dollmaker broke the surface and hauled himself up after her. She heard his footsteps approach and her fingers locked around the pistol. She twisted to find him looming over her.

"You'll make quite a lovely doll for people to find in the morning," he said.

"I'm sure they'll be more than happy to see your body lying here," she retorted with as much defiance as she could muster. Emily cradled the gun in her good hand and he laughed again as he stepped closer.

"What do you plan to do with that, pigeon? Your right wrist is broken."

"Then I suppose it's a good thing my father taught me to shoot with both hands," Emily spat. She shot him in the chest, and he staggered back, staring at the blood in surprise. Emily slowly got to her feet. The Dollmaker tried to stumble toward her, but Millicent Kempwell appeared before him. This time he could see her, because his eyes widened and he flinched away. Soon she wasn't alone, as more ghostly girls appeared on the dock. They surrounded him, their pale hands grabbing and tugging at him.

"Nice night for a stroll," Emily said quietly. "You're welcome to try and run, poppet."

Try he did, but he fell hard on his knees, clutching his chest and muttering frantically about how it wasn't possible.

"You're dead," he said, eyes crazed. "You're all dead."

"So are you," Emily said. He rounded on her with an animal-like roar, and Emily pulled the trigger again. Blood spattered across the front of his shirt and he toppled back into the water, Millicent and the others holding him under until his struggles ceased. He floated lifelessly back to the surface, eyes still open and terrified. Emily took a few faltering steps, but the pain in her head was making it hard to stay on her feet. And she was so, so cold, her wet clothes sticking to her uncomfortably. Her wrist and sides added to her symphony of agony and she fell to the ground in a heap.

"Percy," she whispered hoarsely. The world tilted on its side, and then went dark.