Called to Darkness

  But hope gave way to a pang of concern when she discerned that Grumbler was the mammoth in the lead. After she'd turned him loose in the foothills of the Tusks, he must have found his way here.

  A longstrider wheeled to meet him, and the two animals lunged at one another. The reptile struck like a snake, but Grumbler twisted his head to the side, and the great jaws snapped shut not on flesh but on the point of a tusk.

  Grumbler yanked the tusk free amid a shower of blood and broken fangs. Meanwhile, the warrior on his back thrust repeatedly with a long spear. Most of the jabs either fell short or glanced off the longstrider's scales, but a couple pierced the flesh around its nostrils.

  Undeterred by any of the wounds, the reptile roared, spraying a mist of blood in the process, and gathered itself to lunge. But Grumbler acted first. He rushed forward, bulled into the longstrider, and knocked it reeling.

  Don't let up! Kagur thought. Keep attacking!

  Grumbler started forward to do precisely that. But then a threehorn rushed at the mammoth's flank. It was, Kagur now saw, one of two such beasts that had entered the town after the redstripes and longstriders.

  Grumbler turned and narrowly avoided the attack. He raised his trunk, perhaps to bash at the threehorn as it lumbered by, and the rider hefted his long spear to stab.

  But now the mammoth had presented his flank to his first opponent. Recovering its balance, the longstrider lunged, snapped its jaws shut on Grumbler's neck, and, with a wrenching motion, flipped him off his feet.

  The spearman flew from the mammoth's back. The fall likely killed or crippled him, but it didn't matter even if it hadn't. Two redstripes pounced on him the instant he hit the ground.

  Grumbler struggled to break free of the longstrider's grip, but without his legs under him, even his strength wasn't equal to the task. The reptile kept holding him down while gnawing its fangs deeper and deeper into his neck. Blood poured out until the mammoth shook in one last spasm and lay still. The longstrider straightened up and roared.

  Kagur's fists clenched.

  "It's sad," Eovath said, "but Grumbler chose his fate. You freed him, and he was stupid enough to return to slavery."

  Down in the streets of Tolguth, the other mammoths were dropping one by one, bitten apart by longstriders, pierced by threehorns, or battered by spiketails. As the enormous beasts assailed one another, they smashed into or fell atop houses that sometimes then collapsed, likely trapping folk inside in the rubble.

  That might have been how the fires started, too, although it was also possible some desperate soul set them on purpose in a final effort to drive away the reptiles. If that was anyone's notion, it worked after a fashion. The attacking beasts did withdraw.

  They didn't go far, though. They surrounded Tolguth and killed anyone who fled the conflagration, attending to the task until nothing remained of the fortress town but charred sticks, ash, and the column of gray smoke fouling the azure sky.

  "Well," Eovath said, "I call that a good start."

  "The start of your death," Kagur replied. "Your beasts are strong, but some fell today. More will drop in every battle you fight, until none are left."

  "You have a point. To be honest, I'm not even sure how well the reptiles will fare out of the jungle, even though I led them up here in high summer. But I brought plenty. If need be, I'm willing to gamble the tundra will run out of humans before I run out of beasts. But I doubt it will come to that. When other frost giants hear of my victories, they'll come running to help me wipe the humans out."

  For a moment, the prospect of such a thing made Kagur feel numb with dread. Then her head cleared, and she sneered.

  "No," she said, "this is just another nightmare. Another piece of nonsense. I traveled the caves that connect Orv and the Earthnavel, and you could never get the biggest beasts through the narrower tunnels or find enough food to feed them along the way."

  "It certainly wasn't easy, but I managed. Remember, Rovagug guides my steps, and besides, years have passed since you and I last saw one another. I had plenty of time to plan the trek to the surface after I helped the xulgaths wipe out the humans of the Vault." He smiled. "Those were good times, although there was never a moment when I wasn't impatient to return here and get on with my true work."

  "None of that will ever happen, either. I'll stop you."

  "You tried, but you failed. Again. I want you to know I wept when I found your severed hand still clutching your father's sword. I suppose it fell from Old Scar's jaws when he was chewing you up."

  "Brother, if you cried, that proves you don't belong on your devil's path. What do you think awaits you at the end of it?"

  "Maybe peace. Maybe nothing. Either way, it doesn't matter. If you fight for something hard enough, you become the fight. You know that better than anyone."

  "Then let's fight." She reached for her sword but couldn't find the hilt.

  Jorn Blacklion's blade was hanging from Eovath's belt, even though she hadn't noticed it until this moment. The giant sighed and shook his head.

  She snarled and grabbed for Eovath's own black-handled knife, the dagger that had nearly slain her, but for some reason, she couldn't grip that, either. She looked down and saw that her arm ended in a stump.

  "Poor little ghost," her brother said. "It hurts my heart to see you like this." He walked on down the slope.

  Stubbornly, frantically, she tried over and over to pull an arrow from her quiver to drive into his back. But an arm without a hand couldn't do that either.

  She was still trying when, her arm flailing, she jolted awake in her tree.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Old Scar

  The three-clawed track was over half as long as a man was tall. The reeking mound of droppings behind it was fresh.

  Kagur double-checked that the warm breeze was still blowing in her face. It was. It wouldn't carry her scent to any beast lurking up ahead.

  That was good as far as it went, but it didn't mean a longstrider might not detect her presence anyway. According to Vom, they had sharper eyes than most of the other giant reptiles of the Vault, and keen ears as well.

  Keeping low, taking care not to rustle ferns or step on twigs, she crept forward. She peered, listened, and sniffed the air for a first indication that her quarry was close by.

  Intent though she was on the task at hand, last night's nightmare nagged at her like a stone in her boot. Had it foretold the future?

  Surely not. Even befuddled by the vagaries of dream, she'd managed to list reasons why Eovath's scheme would never work, and besides, asleep or otherwise, she was no seer. That was Holg's province.

  Yet both her brother and the old man had warned her something extraordinary was happening, something gods and spirits had a hand in. If such madness was truly what her life had become, then maybe even a simple warrior could catch a glimpse of one of Holg's hidden patterns.

  She scowled and told herself it didn't matter if the nightmare had had any truth in it. At worst, it was a conditional kind of truth. Tomorrow had no final form as yet. She would shape it by what she did today, and when Eovath lay dead at her feet, she could rest easy knowing the Blacklions were avenged, the Dragonflies would thrive, and the beasts of Orv would never menace the tundra.

  Up ahead, something swished through grass. The breeze brought her a musky smell.

  Moving even more cautiously than before, she crept onward. She pulled down a frond just far enough so she could peek between it and the one hanging above it. Then she caught her breath.

  Old Scar, the first longstrider she'd seen in reality, was shaped very much like the ones in the nightmare—an indication, perhaps, that the dream had been more than just the churning of a restless mind. But standing in a clearing and looking sunward, maybe in the hope of detecting prey, he was even huger than the beasts that had descended on Tolguth. The scar that gave him his name was a white groove in his dark green hide running from just under his left eye down his short, S-shaped neck to his shoulder.<
br />
  Kagur suspected he'd taken the wound when he was still growing. It was hard to imagine anything hurting him now.

  Except me, she thought, shaking off the awe the gigantic reptile inspired. I'm going to hurt him.

  The question was, how?

  She certainly hadn't scouted all the overgrown and beast-infested reaches of the Black Jungle. But she'd already found a couple patches of ground that might serve her need. Unfortunately, at the moment, she and Old Scar weren't especially near them.

  But longstriders had sharp ears, and a creature that delighted in killing men could presumably recognize the human voice. She'd retreat back the way she'd come and, when she had a sufficient lead, give a shout to draw her quarry after her.

  Her pulse ticking in her neck, she turned and skulked away. Common sense insisted a beast so huge couldn't possibly come stalking after her without making the slightest sound, yet from time to time, she succumbed to the urge to glance over her shoulder even so.

  She crept into a kind of arch made of creepers, with meshed vines linking the tree trunks on either side and winding through the branches over her head. The tangles provided cover of a sort, and she felt marginally safer until she glimpsed stealthy, sliding motion above her head.

  She looked up. Colored the same brown as the creepers in which it evidently liked to lie in wait for prey, a snake longer than she was tall dropped right on top of her.

  Few snakes lived on the tundra, so Kagur knew little enough about them. But every serpent in any traveler's tale she'd ever heard had been dangerous by virtue of a venomous bite. So she dropped her longbow, grabbed hold of the reptile's body just below the wedge-shaped head, and, for an instant, imagined she was safe.

  But only until the snake's heavy coils writhed and slid around her body, pulled tight, and squeezed with appalling strength.

  The constriction around Kagur's legs made her stumble into a mass of creeper and then fall to the ground. If she gave the snake a chance, it would bind her completely, then crush the breath and life out of her.

  She still had the reptile gripped with her right hand. Snarling, she strained until her left arm flailed free of the coil wrapped around it. Then she snatched out Eovath's dagger. It wasn't enchanted, but when she and a foe were wrestling on the ground, it was still a more manageable choice than a longsword.

  She stabbed out one of the snake's eyes and then the other, each time hoping the knife would pierce the brain. And perhaps it did, but the reptile's coils kept tightening anyway.

  The snake made another try at entangling her knife arm. She heaved the limb free, set the blade under the base of the snake's skull, and sawed. Blood flowed, the dagger scraped on a vertebra, and the reptile convulsed.

  For the person caught in the snake's coils, those spasms were bruising punishment in their own right. But they were better than constant, relentless pressure. They allowed Kagur to wriggle and flounder free.

  When she did, she spotted Old Scar, who'd apparently heard the rustling, rattling disturbance of the vines, coming through the trees and tree-ferns. He broke into a bounding run at the same instant.

  She thrust Eovath's dagger back into its sheath, leaped up, recovered her bow, and sent an arrow flying. The shaft plunged into Old Scar's chest just under one of the stunted forelimbs, but he didn't even seem to notice.

  Kagur shot again, scored another hit, and the beast still didn't falter. She didn't have a time for a third effort before he rushed in close.

  Lord in Iron, he was big, and it seemed to her that his deep-set eyes, yellow as Eovath's, did indeed glare down with a hatred of humankind as implacable as the giant's. The massive head plunged down at her, the great jaws spreading wide.

  She dodged to the right. The longstrider's fangs clashed shut in the space she'd just vacated.

  She scrambled, circling, trying to confuse her foe while dodging his sweeping tail and stamping feet. After a moment, she got him pivoting away from the area she needed to reach while she was in position to bolt toward it.

  The trick won her an instant's head start. Then the earth shook like a titanic heart beating as Old Scar pounded after her.

  Vom had told her longstriders ran fast and tirelessly, but, no doubt due to their weight, had trouble turning abruptly. So when Old Scar's shadow fell over her, or she simply felt him looming at her back, she veered right or left, running a zigzag course that lengthened the distance to her goal but kept the reptile from quite overtaking her.

  And it would continue to do so. Right up until the moment when she mistimed a dodge or fatigue slowed her down.

  A pinecone-shaped anthill appeared amid the greenery before her. Hoping that even an angry longstrider would be leery of the nest, she dashed right past it. For several steps, big black insects popped and crunched beneath her soles while their fellows scurried around her feet.

  When she glanced back, she saw her ploy had failed. Old Scar didn't swing wide to avoid the anthill. Rather, one striding foot caught it and smashed it to flying grit and dust.

  Curse it!

  Suddenly, Kagur felt a fiery jabbing in her right thigh. She looked down and discovered two of the finger-length ants clinging to her leg. They must have scuttled onto her foot when she was racing through their territory and crawled upward, maybe after their mandibles failed to penetrate her boot. Unfortunately, they were proving quite capable of biting through her breeches.

  Though it was awkward to swipe at the ants and run at the same time, she managed it. But even after she knocked the insects off, the bites continued to burn and itch.

  Breath rasping in her throat, she told herself she wouldn't let that slow her down, either.

  The riotous masses of vegetation, her zigzag path, and the sweat stinging in her eyes all made it difficult to be sure she was even still running in the right direction. But finally she spotted what she was heading for: a patch of ground where the tree-ferns grew more thickly than on the stretch she'd just traversed.

  Sensing something changing, she glanced back just in time to see Old Scar break stride. He was no fool. He realized a creature his size would find it difficult to maneuver amid such dense and sturdy growth. But after an instant, he resumed the chase anyway, his malice overcoming his good sense.

  Kagur ran several paces into the thick stand of tree-ferns, turned, nocked an arrow, drew, and released. The shaft pierced Old Scar's torso just as he started to follow her in. Like the previous wounds, the new one didn't appear to trouble him.

  Lodging an arrow in the longstrider's scales wasn't too difficult. But driving it deep enough to penetrate the leathery hide and the muscle beneath and reach a vital spot was plainly a different matter.

  All right, Kagur thought, panting, I'll do better.

  Laying another arrow on her bow, she backed away from Old Scar's earth-shaking advance and waited until the moment when his body stuck between two tree-ferns. Plainly, they would only hinder him a moment before he bulled his way through. But in that moment, he roared in vexation, and she loosed her missile into his open jaws.

  She could just make out that the arrow stabbed into the tissue at the back of his mouth. Surely the flesh was soft and vulnerable there. Surely Denda's sharp flint would cut an artery or something else important.

  But apparently it didn't. Old Scar lashed his head back and forth, spat the arrow out, and heaved himself free of the tree-ferns.

  Kagur dodged left, then right, then left again, winding her way through the thickest growth, keeping just ahead of the longstrider and shooting at those moments when an especially tight squeeze hindered him. She hoped short range and the beast's relative immobility would enhance her aim.

  But those advantages didn't seem to matter either. Likely because of the arrow that had flown into his mouth, Old Scar now appeared to understand which shots had the best chance of hurting him, and even wedged between tree-ferns, he could snap his jaws shut and jerk his head when she aimed at it. The defense kept her from driving a second arrow into his m
outh or putting out a mad yellow eye.

  Retreating, she circled left. The reptile followed and caught in yet another narrow space. She darted forward. Maybe if she got right under Old Scar and loosed a shaft up into the spot where his neck met his lower jaw, that would be the killing shot.

  But before she could get that close, Old Scar strained and thrashed, and suddenly, one of the tree-ferns that was holding him in place pulled out of the ground. Cracking and rattling, it toppled at her.

  She threw herself to the side. A stiff, dark green frond the size of a blanket swatted her anyway and knocked her reeling. Her foot caught on something, and she fell on her back.

  Gaping jaws plunged down at her. She started to shoot up at them, then realized the arrow was gone from her bow.

  She rolled. Old Scar's fangs snapped shut beside her, close enough to spatter her with spittle.

  At once, the longstrider twisted his head and took a pivoting sidestep for a second try. She rolled to her feet and sprinted away from him.

  Pure luck, or maybe Gorum's favor, carried her into another thick knot of tree-ferns just as Old Scar caught up with her. The tall plants snapped and groaned as he jammed in among them.

  Gasping, Kagur reached for another arrow. Her groping hand discovered she only had three left.

  She supposed that shouldn't surprise her. She could, after all, see arrows sticking in Old Scar's body pretty much everyplace except where his relentless struggles to reach her had snapped them short. Still, it seemed impossible that she'd loosed so many to so little effect.

  She remembered Eovath telling her in the nightmare that Old Scar was the beast fated to kill her. Then she spat the thought away.

  Old Scar was an animal, she was a hunter, and she was going to kill him. If arrows wouldn't do the job, she had another weapon in reserve. It was just going to take another little trot through another stretch of jungle to reach it.