"Hold her right there, Fetch," you instruct calmly. You shake out a fistful of silver fragments and clutch them in your left hand. You feel the metal bite your skin and suck in a hissing breath.
Calm down, Brianna. You've done this before.
Gods, you've done this before.
You put a hand on Kelly's head, between her catlike ears, and begin the incantation. Making a shadow is deceptively simple, you remember. The silver. The death. Your own shadow.
There's blood trickling down your wrist as the spell starts to take hold. Fetch squeezes his prey, releasing a small spurt of blood and, mercifully, the demoness's death rattle. You feel your shadow ripple and change as it absorbs the spell, soaking in the death and feasting on the lingering emotions.
When you look down, your shadow's hat is gone, replaced by twitching cat ears and a long tail. It looks around in confusion, and then draws its knees up to its chest and cries.
"Yeah," you say softly. "That's about what I expected."
Outside, you hear Amy talking. "I've got an axe in its head but it's just going to heal the moment we take it out."
"No worries," Nathan reassures her. "Verve's got it."
There's a wet sound, like slicing ripe melon, and then the splattering of blood against dirt.
Overally, a good mission.
Fetch lets go of his prey and nuzzles against your shin. "Your plan was both cunning and wise, O my queen. What will happen to the mercenaries now?"
"They're going to leave. And if they don't, I'm going to start killing them until the rest leave," you answer in a low voice. "I can smell the suffering clinging to them like booze on breath."
You look down at the shadow and click your tongue. It stands to attention, ears down in shame, and puts its hands in its pockets.
"You'll need a name," you muse.> Name the shadow