by Lisa Shearin
Agata we simply could not lose. We would be blind down here searching for the Heart without her to guide us.
Jash suddenly ducked inside a roughly circular jumble of boulders. The rest of us followed suit and froze. I listened with all my senses, magical and mundane.
Jash was right.
Khrynsani.
Beneath what I knew to be the magical stench of Khrynsani was a familiar, oily presence.
Sythsaurians.
Jash glanced at me and grimaced.
That confirmed the presence of the lizard men. I would’ve loved to have been wrong. Taking on Khrynsani had always been enjoyable in a getting-to-slaughter-your-sworn-enemy kind of way. The addition of possibly even more powerful opponents took all the fun out of what we were about to do.
My mind raced. If we could get past them undetected, we’d get to keep our advantage of secrecy. The Khrynsani and Sythsaurians knew we had arrived in Aquas, but they did not yet know that we were here under the mountain. We all had the same goal, though. If we didn’t take them on here, we’d be doing it later, without the element of surprise. If it were only me and my team, there’d be no question of our strategy—take them out now so we wouldn’t have to watch our backs for them later.
But it wasn’t only my team. I had Talon and Agata, and even Phaelan to think about. Yes, Agata had shown her nerve and fighting skills back in Regor, but see previous statement regarding mission failure if anything happened to her. I loved a good fight as much as the rest of my team, a fight that didn’t have me needing to protect anyone.
I gestured for Malik to scout ahead. Jash had confirmed the enemy; Malik’s skill was his preternatural silence and patience. His wards were such that he could have been standing in the midst of those Khrynsani, and none of them would know he was there. And Malik could hold that ward as long as necessary, to the point of putting himself in a trance so deep that his heartbeat slowed so as to be undetectable, all the while maintaining just enough consciousness to hold the ward and continue to hear and see everything that was said.
Malik Chiali had the proverbial nerves of steel.
The Khrynsani would never sense him, let alone see him.
I didn’t have the same confidence about the Sythsaurians. Their senses could be entirely different, or they could have devices that hid them from detection.
We waited.
I didn’t like waiting, never had.
Fortunately, Malik was back within minutes.
Unfortunately, he was wide-eyed and pale.
“Oh, this isn’t good,” Dasant muttered.
Malik opened his mouth to report, and a roar split the air behind him.
I snatched Malik behind the boulders and threw out the strongest shields I had, noise be damned.
Whatever it was hit my shields at a run. Hard.
I looked up.
If this thing was in the dragon family, it was a distant, ancient branch. There was intelligence in those yellow eyes, all of it aimed at keeping its belly full, and those eyes were looking at us like we were the tastiest things to come around in some time.
It stood on powerful hind legs and raked my shields with scythe-like claws, sending up sparks. It should have been thrown across the cave. All my shields seemed to do was piss it off. The creature was easily ten feet tall, with scales that looked more like armor. It had rows of serrated teeth, the longest the length of my fingers. I had no desire to get any closer for a more accurate measurement.
It wanted to get much closer.
Its feet were four-toed, like a bird’s with each toe ending in a short, hooked claw. The long legs flexed backward, also like a bird’s. It had no wings. This thing was built for speed on land, for running down its prey and ripping it to shreds.
I felt Dasant powering up behind me. I moved aside to give him enough room to work.
Dasant flipped his hands up, palms toward his target, and opened up with twin columns of red death, hitting the mutant dragon squarely in the head. It exploded in a gratifying burst of blood, armored flesh, and bone.
A deafening shriek came from right over our heads.
An even taller version of Dasant’s victim rose up over the wall of boulders that was all that stood between us and being shredded for this thing’s next meal.
We were trapped where we were. We could fight these things as they came at us, but for how long? I assumed these were what was keeping the Khrynsani and Sythsaurians occupied. Or had the wingless dragons already slaughtered them and were now turning their attention on us? If any Khrynsani were left alive, Dasant’s display had left no doubt who and where we were. A circle of boulders wasn’t a defensible location; it was a bowl now filled with tasty meat morsels. Us.
The beast’s neck wasn’t long, but it was long enough to reach us.
Not if I reached it first.
“Das!” I hissed, and dived out of the opening between boulders.
Dasant was right on my heels.
When we got a look at the entire creature, we froze for what was only a second, but it would have been sufficient time to get ourselves eaten if any of the beasts had been so inclined.
I could see only the one, but I could smell more.
One crisis at a time, Tam. Take this one, then worry about the next one.
I thought I had enough raw power to take out the creature with one shot, but I knew Dasant did. I shielded us both and he went to work.
Within two heartbeats, bits of monster skull and brain went flying, filling the air with a pink mist. We had to dive out of the way to keep from being hit when the massive body hit the ground.
The things knew we were here, and once the Khrynsani and Sythsaurians didn’t have monster troubles of their own, we’d have even more company. The only thing the boulders did for us now was to corral us as prey for whatever happened along. But being out in the open with things that could easily run any of us down was suicide.
That left one course of action.
Cloaks for everyone.
I ran back to the opening, and nearly got myself fried.
I threw my hands up.
Elsu swore and absorbed the green flame that had covered her hands. “Don’t do—”
“Grab Agata and cloak,” I told her. “Jash, cloak Phaelan. Talon—”
My son had the fingers of one hand around Indigo’s jaws, keeping the firedrake quiet. He vanished, his cloak covering Indy as well as himself.
I cloaked myself. “Agata, lead us toward that signal.”
I hadn’t told any of them to stay quiet, and I didn’t need to.
There were Khrynsani nearby. I didn’t want to make any noise to attract more creatures that wanted us dead, but at least the Khrynsani didn’t want to eat us. I didn’t know what their two-legged lizard allies preferred. However, I knew exactly what the things moving in the dark around us wanted. All I had to do was think of a way to ensure it wasn’t us.
I smelled what had happened to the Khrynsani before I saw it.
Blood. A whole killing field’s worth.
There had been a battle here, but there were no bodies left behind. If some of the dead had been Sythsaurian, they had been taken as well. Maybe the things that lived down here weren’t picky eaters like their surface brethren. All that was left was blood and the occasional partial leg or arm. Unlike on the surface, there wasn’t any sign that the goblins and lizard men had had enough time to fight back. There was no scorched ground, no stink of black battlemagic in the air.
The attack had been a frenzied slaughter, almost as if the creatures had been defending something.
And they were still nearby.
I wouldn’t say it was a stench that hung in the air, but it smelled wrong and felt worse. If I had to assign words to describe it, they would be rage and residual terror. Rocks couldn’t feel either one, but I could. I wasn’t there yet, but my skin was crawling in the direction of terrified.
Given a choice, I would’ve much rather had the giant centipedes.
We were being followed.
I tossed a questioning glance at Jash, who raised his closed fist in front of his chest. He opened it, revealing all five fingers, quickly closed it and opened it again.
Ten.
We had ten living breathing things on our trail. Whether Khrynsani, Sythsaurian, or both, we were outnumbered by two. Whether their power was a match for ours remained to be seen. And we would be seeing it. Eventually.
To whoever was following us, we served a purpose. If we got tired of having them tag along, we could always set up an ambush and ask them not-so-nicely to stop. Until then, I felt better knowing the Khrynsani were behind us.
I was more concerned with what was moving in front of us.
The team proceeded lightly and in complete silence. Except for Phaelan, who occasionally scuffed the ground. Though I had to admit he’d made impressive progress. Knowledge that a pack of Khrynsani was on our tail was a potent motivator. Even Talon had stopped talking.
Jash glided further into the tunnel’s depths. We had gone dark. With my goblin night vision, I could still see him. Problem was, the only things down here with us were other goblins—and monsters who didn’t need to see to hunt their prey.
“Are the Khrynsani still behind us?” I asked Jash.
My friends nodded. “They stopped when we did. They’re not ready to catch up to us. Yet.”
Malik snorted. “Why would they want to? We’re leading them right where they want to go.”
The Khrynsani were keeping their distance, and after what we’d just experienced, I didn’t see them in any hurry to overtake us. They’d be content to let us blaze the trail—and take the losses.
Chapter Fifteen
The cavern was a tumble of boulders, fallen stalactites, and pillars that rose from floor to ceiling, giving the appearance of a maze.
I felt like a mouse in that maze.
Agata led, her steps swift and sure, leading us toward the strongest signal she had sensed during her ritual to connect with the Heart. Jash and I were immediately behind her, defensive spells at the ready. The others followed with Dasant and Malik bringing up the rear.
Claws scrabbled on rock from in front of us
And behind.
Then silence.
The maze widened out and then disappeared, leaving us exposed.
We weren’t attacked.
I knew what the creatures were waiting for.
They wanted us to run. We’d been herded through the maze, and now they wanted us to flee like the prey they thought we were. I heard four separate scratches of claws on the cavern floor, all from different locations. Close, but separated. Definitely a hunting pack—one that had recently fed on Khrynsani. They were satisfied for now. We were the after-dinner entertainment. Yes, they would kill and eat us, but they’d rather play with us first. They hunted as a pack, so stalking was part of the game. The instant we ran, the game was over and the killing would begin.
Those Khrynsani might just have saved our lives.
I nearly smiled. That would be a first. I held up a hand, signaling everyone to stop.
Jash looked at me like I’d lost my mind.
I wasn’t sure he was wrong. But I was sure we were dead if we made any sudden moves.
“How much farther?” I asked Agata, keeping my voice low and calm.
Her eyes darted from side to side. I knew what she was seeing. The beasts were stalking us, staying mostly out of sight, giving us occasional glimpses to build our terror to the point where we’d make a break for it.
All part of the game. A game I was determined not to play.
Agata exhaled slowly, calming herself. “On the other side of the cavern.” She indicated direction with the slightest nod of her head—and a sardonic snort. “Wherever that is.”
Okay, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear.
“What’s your plan?” she asked me.
“Get out of this alive.”
She almost smiled. “That’s a goal, not a plan. Try again.”
“For starters, we can’t run.”
“What the hell do you—” Phaelan froze and lowered his voice when hisses came at us from multiple points in the darkness.
“We run, we die,” I told him quietly.
“I’ve got news,” the elf shot back in a whisper. “We’re dying anyway. It’s just gonna take longer and hurt worse.”
“It’s called buying time.”
“I’d rather buy a broadside of cannons.”
“They’ve got bellies full of Khrynsani. They’re not hungry. They want to play.”
Dasant cleared his throat. “Uh, I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m not feeling playful.”
“Neither am I,” I told him. “At least not for their game. I propose we play one of our own.”
Jash was staring vacantly into the distance. “There are more out there.”
“Of course there are,” Malik muttered.
“Monsters or Khrynsani?” I asked Jash.
“Yes. Four Khrynsani—”
I grinned. “And at least four playful beasts. We’re going to play a game,” I told my team. “And those Khrynsani are going to be our game pieces. These things hunt by movement and scent, but they prefer movement.”
“No shield covers scent,” Elsu said. “And between the eight of us, we’ve got enough scent to attract every beastie down here.”
Talon squinted into the darkness, desperately trying to see what Jash was sensing. “We can’t outrun those things.”
“We don’t have to,” I told him with a grim smile. “We just have to outrun them.”
Them. The four Khrynsani hiding behind a stalagmite curtain that curved around on itself, making a small room. It was similar in structure to the boulder formation we had hidden inside. One way in, and if you were pinned in by these creatures, the only way out was into their jaws. A Khrynsani had just popped his head over the top to have a look, instantly attracting the beasts’ attention. Clicks and hisses came from the darkness around us as the beasts coordinated their attack.
If we hadn’t escaped that circle of boulders when we had, the same would have happened to us. I pushed that thought aside.
“Four Khrynsani and at least four beasts,” I murmured. “One serving per customer. Good thing it’s Khrynsani and not lizard men—apparently nothing on this continent wants to eat those.”
Dasant chuckled. “I don’t know how fast those lizard men are, but I know I can outrun a robe-wearing Khrynsani.”
“Four tasty distractions coming up,” Malik muttered as two more Khrynsani, right on cue, popped their heads up to have a look around.
Idiots. Soon to be ripped-to-shreds idiots.
They saw the beasts the instant the yellow-eyed creatures saw them. One of the Khrynsani emitted an appetizing yelp before they both ducked back out of sight.
Too little, too late.
Prey drives activated.
One of the beasts stalked out of the shadows. It was larger than the others.
Back home, there were giant salamanders in the depths of Rheskilia’s largest silver mine. The females were larger than the males, much larger. Maternal affection was nonexistent. Those that hatched quickly and fled the nest even quicker were deemed strong enough to survive. Any sluggish hatchlings would be immediately consumed by the mother. In her defense, she had guarded her nest day and night for eight weeks, never leaving to feed. The new mothers were hungry, and in their minds, slow hatchlings were good for only one thing.
This was probably the alpha female.
A low rumbling came from her as she lowered her head, leisurely taking in the Khrynsanis’ scent, and I could swear the long slit that was her mouth curved into a vulpine smile.
The stalagmite curtain wouldn’t prove to be that much of a challenge, but it’d give us a couple of extra seconds to cross the cavern.
I held up a hand, telling everyone to wait. We needed the beasts committed to one meal before another made a run for it.
It didn’t take long.
The big female glided with unnerving grace to block the one opening with her body.
A single shriek came from inside.
That was all it took.
The beasts couldn’t tear the rest of the stalagmite curtain apart fast enough to get at the tasty Khrynsani morsels inside. One even helpfully tried to make a run for it—and was grabbed by two of the beasts.
Messiness ensued.
I signaled. We ran.
If you’re handed a distraction, take it. If that distraction also decreases your enemy’s numbers by four, take it and be grateful.
My gratitude to the beasts would only last until the next time one tried to eat us. If they didn’t bother us, we wouldn’t bother them.
I smelled black magic erupting from behind us as the Khrynsani made a desperate last stand. From the sudden burning stench, they had taken out one of the beasts, but while they were destroying one, the other three would be eating them.
“Tunnel,” Agata panted. “Just ahead.”
The silence behind us was sudden and absolute.
Except for the crunching and squabbling between beasts as they fought over a kill.
We almost made it.
A smaller beast, hunched and scarred, burst out of the dark right in front of us.
A second, and then a third appeared, trumpeting in rage and excitement, surrounding us.
We instinctively circled, going shoulder to shoulder, facing our attackers.
My team unleashed hell.
Good battlefield magic was whatever took out your opponent and ensured they wouldn’t get back up. The best battlefield magic not only destroyed your opponent, but struck fear into the hearts, minds, and souls of other enemy combatants, causing them to flee the field in terror.
My team was the best.
However, these enemy combatants weren’t capable of terror, only hunger and the thrill of the hunt.
Together, we stood a chance. Separate, we were vulnerable, then dead.
In less than a minute, we had been separated.
I swore and redoubled my efforts.
I risked a glance at Phaelan. With no magic, he was the most vulnerable.
I was wrong.
Jash and Phaelan were working together to deal death with a lethal combination of magic and metal. Jash would strike with his arm-length lightning bolts, branding a jagged, glowing line in the beast’s scaly armor, and Phaelan would dart inside the screaming creature’s reach and deliver death up close and personal with his twin blades to the vulnerable belly. The elf was moving with near-preternatural speed, risking evisceration himself to get between the beast’s legs. A glint against the light of Jash’s bolts showed the shields encasing the elf pirate. Jash had shielded him with the best he had, sacrificing some of his own power to protect Phaelan.