She felt like an idiot, but she took a moment and tried to calm down.
Good, remember, I will always be with you. I won't let any harm come to you. She felt invisible arms wrap around her, and the taint of evil washed away, replaced with warm strength. I can sense Mitro's puppets coming from the neighboring village, but I want you to try and "feel" them. Then we will set a defensive perimeter. Dax showed an image of her sliding her hands in the ground.
Riley knelt down. When she put her hands in the earth before, she'd felt compelled, like the earth itself was asking her to communicate. This time, she was the one doing the asking. She wasn't sure she really knew what to do-or that she could even do it. Taking a breath, she put her hands together as if she was going to dive into a pool and slowly pushed her fingers down into the earth.
The packed soil shifted, loosening so that her hands plunged in with ease. Surprise gave way to exhilaration as her world changed again. The song of the earth was strong and rich. It hummed up her arms, through her veins and along her nerve endings, a harmonious vibration that filled her with a sense of vast, ancient power and limitless strength. She closed her eyes, sitting back on her heels and savoring the sensation.
Use what the earth offers, Dax advised. Stretch out your senses.
There was nothing on earth not connected to it. She had the wild idea that she could even sense what was happening on the other side of the world, if she tried hard enough. As it was, however, she confined herself to a slightly less grandiose effort. Instead of the world, she reached out to the earth nearby. Her awareness radiated out to all corners of the camp and then beyond, moving through the sandy soil of the rain forest until she located the group moving with deadly purpose toward the camp.
"Dear God." She could feel the misery, the rage, the evil taint that clung to them like a foul muck.
Riley, remember you're in control. Your job is to gather information. We need to see how many people are coming, and what sort of surprises Mitro has in store for us. You're doing great.
Riley steeled herself and tried to look at the mob. In her mind's eye, she saw the top of a recently shaved head bobbing in front of her. Then another head, this one covered in bloody scratch marks that were already bubbling with infection. She was looking through the eyes of a tree frog, watching as the mob passed by below his perch in the branches.
Frustrated that she couldn't make out more, she pushed out with her power. Her hands sank deeper into the earth. The tips of her boots sank, too. A second view of the mob appeared, and it was like she had two sets of eyes, watching from two separate angles. Then a third pair of eyes expanded her vision, and a fourth. It was difficult to adjust to the multiple visual inputs.
Breathe, Riley, you are doing great. Let the fear go. You can do this. I'm right beside you. And he was. She could feel him under her, around her, inside her, sharing her mind. At the moment, it didn't feel creepy or disturbing. She wanted him there, wanted him with her. Good, now focus on what you want. Trust your gifts to do the rest.
There are so many eyes. Where do I focus? Her head hurt. Images were pouring in now, dozens of different wildlife feeding their vision into her mind, each with a different perspective of the advancing threat.
His voice was steady, reassuring, as if they had all the time in the world and this was simply an exercise, not a matter of life and death. Pick a single image and then focus on one small detail.
"Okay, I'll try." She chose the first "screen," the one that came in from the tree frog.
She was once more looking down on the tops of the people as they moved past. One head caught her attention. A woman. Her straight, thick black hair was covered with leaves and ash, like most of the others, but she had something stuck in her hair. An ornament made of bone, carved and painted. Riley could make out the swirls of red and white paint beneath the streaks of ash. She locked her focus on that hair ornament, and as the woman continued on the frog tracked her with its eyes until the hair ornament disappeared from its view.
The image of the woman immediately changed to a different perspective. Now she was watching the woman from a spot ahead of her, but she still had a clear view of the ornament in her hair. Riley could see part of the woman's face but she didn't want to get lost, so she stayed focused on that single detail. As the woman walked, Riley's vision began switching from view to view. The viewpoint switches started coming faster and faster, until Riley thought she was going to lose herself.
Dax poured waves of reassurance into her, and as if blinds had opened to let sunlight stream in, her mind expanded, using the eyes of every insect, bird and beast nearby to form clear, three-dimensional images of the party.
The entire party of the hundred or so villagers advancing on Riley's encampment were bent on killing her and everyone with her.
Chapter 11
Riley was shocked at the clarity of her new, stereoscopic vision, which was so far superior to her own, unenhanced eyesight. All of the details and color, the ability to magnify images and see multiple locations at the same time was incredible. It should have been overwhelming, but miraculously, she was fine. She could do this.
Mitro's minions were making a straight line for the encampment, destroying everything that attempted to slow them down. It was clear they had come from a local village. And even though everything about them felt evil and wrong, she found it hard to believe all of them had willingly succumbed to Mitro's foul control. Some of the women had baby cradles strapped to their backs!
Dax, wait. What are we going to do to these people? Kill them? There are mothers in that group!
They were mothers, Riley. Were. The men and women coming toward us are already gone from this world. Only their physical husks remain. Vampires take pleasure in digging out the insides of what they despise and can no longer be, replacing it with the foul evil they have become.
Can't you save any of them?
I wish I could, sivamet, but it is not possible. Those people are truly gone. The only humane thing to do is put their bodies to rest. I am sorry. Empathy radiated through their connection.
There were no children in the mob, and Riley's heart broke at the thought of what might already have happened to them. Their parents clearly had not given up without a fight. Almost all of the oncoming villagers bore signs of brutal struggle, including deep furrows scratched into their bodies and faces.
Riley could feel the plant life trying to bend away from the taint of evil the group carried with them. Suddenly her vision went blurry, as if the eyes through which she was watching had lost their focus. She pulled back, closing off all but a few of the viewpoints until she was staring at the approaching group from above. That was when she realized there were several people wearing similar hair ornaments in the row. She counted eight different people, each wearing the same small bone adornment. There was something about them that made her skin prickle. She stretched out her senses and nearly gagged at the overwhelming stench of evil that radiated from them. The earth cringed beneath their feet, insects scurrying away, plant roots withering beneath each step.
For whatever reason, these eight carried the most concentrated levels of corruption in the entire group. As she focused on them, using the reluctant eyes of creatures that would rather run than look at them, she made a disturbing discovery. The long, matted hair spilling down their backs was not their own, but rather multiple bleeding scalps grotesquely sewn together. Riley gagged again as the bowls of soup she'd eaten earlier threatened to come back up.
Those eight are the greatest threat, Dax said. Riley, you don't need to see more. We have all the information we need.
She held on a moment longer. Are you sure? Maybe I can see something else to help us. More details flooded into her brain. The flesh of the eight seemed to ripple and palpate, as if bugs were crawling in every direction under the surface of their skin. Their fingertips were devoid of flesh, the bones filed down to points.