by David Adams
“I need no leave,” said Lucien, but even as he spoke these bold words, he backed away from the wolf.
“And I have not granted it,” said the wolf, drawing nearer. His coat was thick, black flecked with gray, and his sharp teeth glittered with saliva, which spattered outward as he spoke. If he feared their weapons, there was no indication of it. “I am the Wolf King. What business do you have here?”
Rowan stepped forward, gave a small bow, then named himself and the others in turn. “We seek something hidden in this wood, to help us in our battle with Solek, the Lord of Veldoon, who is waging war on all of Arkania.”
“So I have heard,” replied the Wolf King. “The war must not go well for you to venture here.” His eyes shifted to Alexis. “You are from Lorgras?”
“It is as you say,” she answered.
“Your people know better than to come here. We do not raid your lands, and we only feed on what lives in or enters the forest. By coming here you have placed yourself under my doom.”
“Our need is great and our hope small. We have risked our lives before and will do so now, if needed. Other powerful foes have already fallen at our hands.”
A barking laugh fell harshly from the mighty wolf’s mouth. “I do not doubt your words. I smell the fear on you, but not so much as is normal in your kind. If we fight, you might slay many of my kin, perhaps even me, but you would all be in wolf bellies in the end.”
Lucien grunted at this, but Rowan quieted him with a hand on his forearm. “It need not come to that.”
“If I release you to turn back, will you go?”
“No, we cannot. Our quest has brought us here, and we will see it through or die trying.”
“Well answered. If you had turned, I would have slain you, but now I see you are truly grave of purpose. What do you seek?”
“A small object,” answered Tala. “Part of a device that might allow us to defeat Solek. It is some distance to the east of here.”
The Wolf King pondered this for a moment, then barked a command at one of his fellows. A large white wolf, with black markings, stepped to the Wolf King’s shoulder, and the two discussed something in their own tongue.
“There is an area, a day or more travel from here, that we call ‘The Nest,’ ” the Wolf King said, addressing the adventurers once more. “My pack will not go near it. It is a place of evil, of endless, mindless hunger. If that is where you go, you have my leave. If you destroy what dwells there, it would be a help to my pack. If you fail…I have only given up a meal.”
“Can you tell us anything about this ‘Nest’?” asked Rowan. “What is it that awaits us?”
“You will learn when you arrive, if you get that far. There are other dangers in these woods. Our people have slain one another since time began, and I care not for your wars. But in this task, I will wish you well.” With that, the Wolf King emitted a high, piercing howl, then darted off into the wood, followed by his pack, which bayed in answer. Slowly the sound faded, and the silent darkness pressed in on them once more.
They stood motionless for a moment, still tense, still gripping their weapons. After the wolves’ cries had drifted away, Corson tried to break the somber mood. “This should be fun. Can’t wait to see what scares that wolf and his pack enough to let us go fight it.”
“At least he did let us go,” said Tala. “We live to fight another day.”
“Like to test him,” Lucien said, a strange gleam in his eye. “Worthy foe makes victory sweet.”
“You may meet another worthy foe ahead,” said Rowan, sheathing his sword. “Let’s go.”
* * *
They traveled silently, always listening to the subtle sounds of the woods, the darkness exerting an unrelenting pressure on their nerves. Tala imbued the ends of a few short branches that had fallen to the forest floor with a magical light, in order to save their limited supply of torches. When they decided to rest for what they guessed was the night, they placed four of these glowing branches into the ground to outline their campsite. One advantage the close-packed trees brought was shelter from the winds, and they missed having a campfire less than they otherwise might have.
Demetrius and Alexis had the night’s third watch. They slowly paced the perimeter of camp, staying on opposite sides to provide the best coverage. Demetrius strained to see into the darkness, fighting both eyelids that wanted to drop and eyes that weren’t sure what they were trying to focus on in the surrounding blackness.
His vision seemed to swim for a moment, and he blinked furiously to fight off what he thought to be dizziness due to lack of sleep. Lights danced before him, a half-dozen soft yellow globes, and now he rubbed his eyes and shook his head. When he refocused the lights remained, hovering like butterflies over a summer field, soft and inviting. He opened his mouth to call to Alexis, but the words caught in his throat. It seemed a shame to disrupt such a spectacle with a crude shout. The aches and tiredness flowed from him, and he felt a deep peace he hadn’t know since he was a boy. Without thought he stepped toward the lights, a gentle smile playing on his lips. The glowing spheres drew back at his approach, staying just out of reach, coaxing him forward. He followed.
Alexis noticed Demetrius moving off into the trees. He went casually, his sword remaining sheathed, but her mind screamed a warning and she held her spear before her. With a few quick strides she was at Demetrius’ shoulder, and looking beyond him she saw the glowing globes.
She studied them for a moment with a scowl etched on her face, then her muscles began to relax, the frown melting away and the tip of her weapon lowering. She moved toward the lights as Demetrius did, her hand going lax enough for the spear to fall to the ground with a muffled thud.
Lucien sat up with a start, his senses fully alert in an instant. His sleep was never deep when enemies might lurk near, and the spear striking the ground had immediately brought him to full consciousness. He struggled to see beyond the four magic torches that washed the area in a dull blue light, but he lost little time in concluding that those on watch had strayed away for some reason.
He woke the others quickly and quietly, and in a matter of seconds the group was moving out, using two of the lights to help illuminate the way. Lucien stepped toward the source of the sound that had awoken him, and finding Alexis’ spear, he held it up for the others to see. He sniffed the air and started to track his missing companions.
They moved with caution, but soon saw their friends ahead, their forms silhouetted by balls of light that fluttered beyond them like giant fireflies.
“Do not look at the lights,” Rowan hissed, even as he drew his sword and started forward. “Demetrius! Alexis!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the silent woods.
Demetrius and Alexis both started at the sound of Rowan’s cry as if waking from a dream. Suddenly the lights in front of them darted away, and in their place, coming at them out of the dark, was what seemed to be a great maw, filled with sharp teeth and expelling hot, rancid breath. It lunged at them, falling amongst them as they sprang to one side or the other.
The bulk behind the mouth was now visible, a heavy, squat body on stubby, powerful legs. Great eyes on each side of its head fixed them with a malevolent glare.
Demetrius stumbled back, fumbling to draw his sword. Alexis looked about, searching, remembering that she had had her spear in her hands, and thinking she must have just dropped it.
Suddenly the others were there, Rowan first, then Lucien and Corson, hacking at the mammoth head and body. Tala’s bow sung, and an arrow zipped through the darkness, striking one of the eyes.
The beast roared its rage and thrashed wildly, forcing its attackers back. It crashed away into the wood, its powerful body shaking trees and sending bushes flying.
“Let it go,” said Rowan to Lucien, whose instincts told him to give pursuit. “I don’t think it will be back.”
“What was it?” Corson asked. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of the thing’s blood on his sword.
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��I don’t know, but I have heard of the hypnotic lights they use, drawing men away to their doom. ‘Night Sirens’ the lights have been called.”
“I’m sorry,” Demetrius stammered. He felt weak now that the adrenaline was ebbing from his system. “I seemed to lose myself as I gazed at those things, as if I had no will of my own.”
“It was the same with me,” said Alexis. She gave Lucien a nod of thanks as he returned her spear.
“Might as well get moving,” said Rowan. “None of us will be able to rest here tonight.”
The next day passed slowly, but was without incident. Their nerves were electric, the endless dark wearing on them as they stumbled through the woods, potential foes and pitfalls always a step away. They rarely looked back, and they tried not to think about the fact that each foot they pushed further into the forest only lengthened their journey out.
Sleep came easier that night, tiredness finally overcoming the constant tension. The Night Sirens did not return, and if the Mist followed them still, it remained out of sight. “It’s probably too smart to come in here,” Corson said when the shadow creature was mentioned.
Tala told them they were getting close to their destination, an announcement met with both relief and trepidation. They made a slight course adjustment, moving now northeast, although the direction they traveled was unknown to them with no sun or stars visible to guide them. Tala simply pointed and said “That way” to keep them on track.
The sky above was crystal clear on this day, the sun blazing brightly and its warmth cutting through the brisk fall air. Elsewhere in Arkania trees were bare or held a few scant leaves of yellow or red, but the canopy of the Great Northern Forest, beyond a small smattering of color high up on the tallest trees, remained a deep mass of green-going-on-black. Beneath this screen the group moved, their way lit only by four magically-infused branches—“happy sticks” Corson had begun to call them, telling Tala she could always make a living by joining a traveling fair and selling these to children.
“Or witless adults,” Lucien added, with a glance at Corson.
Corson laughed, a sound that was odd and out of place in this dread wood. “And you could join the fair as a jester. That deadpan humor of yours would probably play well with country folk.”
The hidden sun above had just passed its zenith when Tala held up a hand. “We are near. Move cautiously.”
They advanced in groups of two, holding the lights before them to pierce the darkness as best they could. Visibility was no more than thirty feet, even with the magic torches.
They froze as a sound ahead reached them, a wet, slick noise like hands being washed. When there was no sign that anything had sensed them, they inched forward.
Demetrius’ upper lip pulled up in a display of revulsion as they drew near and the sound became sharper and more vivid. It reminded him of a hungry animal tearing into a fresh kill, saliva and blood mixing while jaws worked to tear tendon and muscle from bone.
Finally their feeble lights reached the source of the sound. A great pile of creatures lie just ahead, squirming and writhing over one another. They were two feet long, with segmented bodies that had the milky white color of larvae turned up by a garden spade, dozens of legs running down each side. A pair of sharp mandibles framed the mouth, over which were four black eyes, two larger over two smaller.
“The nest,” Corson announced, remembering the name the Wolf King had given this place.
“Should we—?” Rowan’s words were cut off as Lucien’s warblade flashed past him. It caught one of the creatures in mid-air, slicing it cleanly in half. Both ends wriggled aimlessly on the ground as its life slowly ebbed.
“Drop from above,” Lucien explained.
Alexis thrust her light upward, but they could see no more of the insect-like monstrosities in the darkness over them.
“Simple to kill,” said Demetrius, “but there are so many.”
Tala had knelt to inspect the dying creature. “I don’t like the look of those mandibles. Venomous, I would bet.”
“Is the shard in the nest?”
Tala fingered the partial Sphere and concentrated for a moment. “It is there, but several feet below ground level.”
“And there could be a multitude of those things down there with it,” said Demetrius.
“Maybe other ways in and out too,” Lucien said. The comment caused the group to look around, concerned the things might creep up to their rear or flanks.
“Ideas?” asked Rowan. “I don’t think we can just wade in with swords.”
Lucien grunted but said nothing.
“Tala, is there some bit of hand waving you can do to get us through this one?” Corson asked with an exaggerated expression of hopefulness, like a school boy asking for a present.
She chuckled, but the serious look soon returned. “I’m afraid my parlor tricks won’t be much good here.”
“Fire,” Demetrius said.
“That might do the trick,” said Tala. “Let me have a torch.”
While Demetrius pulled a torch from his pack, Lucien asked, “What good that do? Have too few.”
“But the wood in this forest is dry,” Demetrius replied. “We could build up a pile of limbs and branches around the nest and light the whole thing off.”
Tala got the torch going and pressed it against the halved insect at her feet. Its skin charred swiftly, giving off a sour stench. She rose, reared back with the torch held over her shoulder in a throwing position, and asked, “Ready?” Getting a nod from Demetrius, she flung the torch into the nest.
The creatures let out high-pitched screams of pain and confusion as the fire landed among them. The nest boiled for a moment with vigorous activity before the torch blinked out, smothered under the creatures’ slithering bodies. If the little beasts had any sense of where the attack came from or any intention of responding to it, they kept it hidden.
“We should work in teams of two,” Demetrius said, taking charge as the plan took shape in his mind. “One placing the wood, the other ready with a weapon in case it’s needed. We should encircle the whole nest. Start several feet distant, then move the wood closer as the pile grows. Let’s gather as much wood as we can before we start building. We want to keep our time near the nest as brief as possible.”
Wood was easy enough to find in this ancient forest, and the nearly impenetrable canopy above kept the fallen, dead branches and twigs dry and ready to burn. The nest was centered in a cleared area of decent size for this dense forest, but not so large that Demetrius could be certain they wouldn’t be starting a much larger fire than desired. He admitted as much in reply to a question from Rowan. “We’ll need to clear as much brush away as we can, maybe even turn up the dirt to make a small break. But if the living trees burn as quickly as the dead limbs, and they catch fire…”
“Then we’ll go out in a blaze of glory,” said Corson.
The work was quick but heavy. Alexis was actually happy to feel the internal warmth bloom from the effort, to feel the sweat on her brow again after so many weeks traveling in chilly air. And the activity, the act of doing, was infinitely better than the journey through the black wood, and the dread of waiting for what might lie unseen in the dark.
The nest had returned to its normal state, the extinguished torch forgotten and the newcomers ignored. Occasionally one of the creatures drifted toward the growing pile of wood, but the movement was random and without purpose, and always it turned back to the close comfort of its brothers and sisters. A healthy stack of wood soon surrounded the nest. “That should do,” said Demetrius. “Let’s clear the brush away as best we can.”
They worked as they had on the pile, Demetrius, Rowan, and Alexis doing the labor, Corson, Tala, and Lucien guarding them with ready weapons. The ground was hard and dry, and resisted their efforts to dig a small trench. “Let’s hope we don’t need it,” said Demetrius. “It is time.”
They lit three torches, encircled the area with their weapons drawn, and then
touched off the pile of dead wood. It kindled quickly, and a roaring blaze soon reared up.
The heat grew, forcing Corson back a step. The keening screams of the creatures reached his ears. He glimpsed them between the flames, their writhing more frantic, the heat pressing in on them from all sides.
Lucien took a larger limb and pushed the burning wood closer to the nest, then flipped the branch over the blaze so the thicker portion fell amongst the creatures, drawing the scorching flames with it. The large insects began to panic, some daring the flames where they withered quickly as they met a fiery end.
Rowan joined the others in keeping new wood on the raging inferno and forcing it ever closer to the nest. The screams were almost sickening, pain and the anguish of death in each piercing note. Rowan had always feared being burned alive—just the thought of it touched a fearful place deep inside that no beast or sword ever could. He checked the surrounding trees while wiping sweat not caused by the heat of the blaze from his face, and he prayed for the safety of his companions as well as himself. He wasn’t sure he could say he pitied the dying creatures, but those screams…
The new wood drew the fire further inward, and the nest was now completely enveloped. The pile settled as it burned, melting toward the ground or directly into the hole which led to the nest’s subterranean portion. A few of the creatures found their way out of the flames, but these were met with sharp steel.
They tossed new wood onto the blaze over the pit, the flames licking up to new heights. Alexis checked the woods, which seemed less daunting now, lit by a greater light than they had had for days. The trees shone with the reflected glow of the growing bonfire, but no stray spark had lit any of them off. Alexis knew if that happened they could do little to stop the fire from spreading out of control, and that they might meet the same gruesome fate as the insects.
Alexis turned her eyes back to the blaze just as it exploded. In a flash of sparks, burning wood and insects were tossed up and out. Like a striking viper an insect lunged from the nest, in form like the others but much larger, rising well over Alexis’ head even though some of its body remained hidden below the surface. It fell directly toward her, its mandibles snapping and its legs flailing, looking for something to grab onto to pull itself clear of the fire. Alexis had less than an instant to react, but her spear was before her and she only needed to brace herself.