I hear a nervous squeaking and feel a hand on my shoulder

My eyes snap open and I reached instinctively towards my knife; it takes me a moment to remember that it's gone. Blackened and ruined and gone; I was surprised to realized that I regretted it, losing that sole keepsake. Even after all the tears had dried and even with the sins that clung to my back, I still felt. . .Something. . .towards my home.

"Master!"

"What is it?" I asked, looking to her. She was a bundle of nerves, her eyes wide with fear, and I felt all my regret and the messy indefinable jumble all fade into the background. My eyes shifted as the predator's blood boiled over.

"I sense something, someone of power is coming." She blanched; the illusion wavering over her form. She touched her hand to mine, and I felt something through her. It was as if our bond conveyed it, a link between our magic and our lives. I could feel her bone-deep terror, a fear for me and for her life, and I could feel an overwhelming presence approaching the inn. Step by step, with the strength and finality of the gallows' road. I jerk my hand away, as if burned, and closed my eyes.

"Shit." I sighed. "Shit, shit, shit."

I had to act, and soon, or that power would devour me.