Drasmyr (Prequel: From the Ashes of Ruin)

by Matthew D. Ryan

Chapter Eighteen

  Soaking wet and panting from cold exhaustion, Coragan dragged himself ashore. He winced as his knee smacked a blunt shoreline rock, then struggled up to take a view of his surroundings. He stood on a small isle, perhaps three dozen paces long and half as many wide, nestled securely in the center of the river, seventy feet from either shore. The currents, if not ferocious, were at least stronger than normal and offered a formidable barrier to any creature like a wolf.

  Standing, Coragan shivered as the wind whipped through his cloak. A cold wind by any standards, it seemed even more so due to the half-gallon of water trapped inside his clothes. Galladrin moved up beside him, sniffling. “Well, fearless leader, what now?”

  “Let’s gather what wood we can and start a fire,” Coragan said. “After all we’ve been through, it would be a pity to freeze to death.”

  They maneuvered carefully across the shore, cautious of the sometimes slick footing offered by the many lichen-covered rocks. After a moment of searching, they found Borak, sheltered behind a mossy boulder with a large crack. The warrior’s wet clothes were tattered and ripped in several places and he shivered fitfully from the cold. Looking pale and weary, he cuddled his injured arm protectively in his lap while his teeth chattered uncontrollably and parts of his exposed flesh had taken on a bluish tinge.

  After a brief examination to ensure that Borak could hold up for a few minutes more, Coragan and Galladrin panned out to cover the surrounding terrain as quickly as they could. Only one tree of considerable height stood on the small island, and neither man had the strength to attempt to cut it down. Besides, Borak had secured the horses at that tree and they were unlikely to find another equally suited spot anywhere else. Scattered across the ground, however, they found a large number of broken branches, small scrubs, and washed-up pieces of forest detritus. They set to work immediately and before long a fair-sized fire roared amongst the rocks.

  With the fire blazing and providing warmth, Borak’s shivering rapidly diminished. The huge warrior let out a sigh of relief and edged as close to the flames as prudence would allow. Beside him, Galladrin also sighed in utter contentment. He stretched his arms out, palms down to collect as much heat as possible. The glow of firelight painted his face a rosy hue, and the signs of numbing cold quickly faded.

  Coragan reached down and added another branch to the flames. It crackled and hissed as the fire embraced it. “Okay, we’re alive for now. Now what?”

  Borak shrugged in apparent disinterest. “We wait for dawn. Then leave.”

  Snorting, Galladrin cast the warrior a dubious look. He unclasped the tattered vestige of what remained of his cloak and threw it to the flames. “Sounds like a plan ... if there wasn’t some madman named Lucian and a pack of wolves hunting us.” The rogue moved over to the nearby tree, bent down to remove his soaking shirt, and flung it up on a branch to drip dry in the wind. He glanced back at his companions, expecting a reply. Hearing none, he moved to the horses and began rummaging for a blanket.

  After several long moments, Borak spoke. “We should be safe here until dawn.”

  Coragan looked up. He had his cloak coiled tightly between his hands and there was a surprisingly large puddle of water at his feet. “Safe? I hardly think Lucian is one to be put off by a forest stream. Once he finds us—and I don’t think he’ll have much trouble doing that ... a deaf man could hear that howling—he’ll just march over and rip our hearts out.” The bounty hunter cast his eyes to the far shore. With the fire right beside him, he found it difficult to make anything out, but he thought he discerned several dark shapes scurrying along the bank. An eruption of barking reinforced his fears.

  “The river about us is running strong. Lucian cannot cross.”

  “Huh?” Galladrin asked in an unmindful tone. The rogue had followed Coragan’s eyes and become absorbed in the activities of the far bank. He appeared only half-aware of the ongoing conversation. Beside him, Borak opened his mouth to elaborate on his words, but before he could speak Galladrin cut him off. “Hey! What’s that?” The rogue’s finger pointed to the shore and its wolves. Coragan looked, but could see nothing. His eyes were not as sharp as the experienced thief’s, especially at night.

  “What? I don’t see anything.”

  “Oh, nothing. It’s just a couple of bats ... Bloody Hell!” Coragan saw it too. Where before there had been nothing, two figures seemed to pop into sudden existence. The first was Lucian, the second Clarissa. They stood in the midst of the wolves with the entire pack swarming at their feet. The barking and yowling rose in a great clamour of excitement, but the figures didn’t notice. “The bats ... They were bats and now they’re ... them!”