by Mel Odom
Juhg yelped in pain at the coarse treatment. He didn’t have a choice about tilting his head back. “I’m fine.”
“Ye were lucky. I thought that thing done went an’ carved yer face off, I did. ’Twere a near thing, I’ll warrant.”
The Boneblight struggled to get to its one good leg.
Trapped by Raisho’s strength, Juhg stared up at his friend’s worried face, then above him to the foggy sky. For the first time, he realized that the heavy fog wasn’t a natural occurrence. The fog had easily masked the Boneblights’ approach.
But where have they come from? They can’t have flown across the Blood-Soaked Sea.
On the night the crew of One-Eyed Peggie had shanghaied Grandmagister Lamplighter, three Boneblights had arrived in Greydawn Moors stalking the human warder and the package Grandmagister Frollo had sent to the Customs House. Juhg had read about the events in the Grandmagister’s personal journals, and he’d heard the stories—grown much larger over the years in the telling—several times while in town or at the Yondering Docks.
If Grandmagister Lamplighter had ever learned what was in the package the human warder had carried away that night, he had never revealed it in his journals or to Juhg. The incident had remained in Juhg’s mind, but the Grandmagister had a tendency to ignore questions he didn’t want to answer.
Watching the cottony swirls of fog, Juhg became even more convinced that the fogbank that had rolled in across the outgoing tide to fill the town was an unnatural thing. And only a wizard could bring forth such a big change in the weather.
Fear plowed through Juhg’s heart in that moment, galvanized by the shapes of the winged Boneblights soaring through the sky. The creatures plopped in the middle of the streets, on victims running for their lives, or on the tops of buildings so they could better plan their next move. They were predators hunting those who lived in Greydawn Moors, and they were merciless in their pursuit.
“Juhg,” Raisho called.
Overcome by the stunned fascination that filled him, trying to accept the fact that Greydawn Moors—the most secret place in the whole world—was now a battlefield again in only a matter of weeks, Juhg couldn’t answer at first.
Growling impatiently, Raisho grabbed Juhg’s shoulder and pulled him away from the crippled Boneblight limping steadily toward them.
“You will be punisssshed,” the thing threatened in a loud, hoarse cry. Its ruby eyes glowed like liquid fire. “I will ssssuck the marrow from your bonessss.”
Raisho stood and whirled his cutlass, hacking at the thing brutally. The sword blows rocked the thing’s head but only served to slow it rather than stop it.
“How do ye kill these blasted things?” Raisho snarled as he pushed Juhg into motion.
“The heads,” Juhg yelped as he sprinted forward again. Another Boneblight dropped to the cobblestone street only a short distance away. “You have to smash the heads. You can break the body into pieces, but as long as the head is intact it will come after you.”
“The head, then.” Raisho assumed an attack position, then went at the Boneblight with all his skill and strength.
Juhg made for the stables, conscious of all the battles going on around him. Greydawn Moors was overrun with Boneblights now. The creatures raced through the streets, swooped through the air, and sat like gargoyles on rooftops while they picked out victims.
Dwarves boiled out of the meeting hall. Thankfully, quite a number of them had shown up there to stand in support of the Grandmagister as he faced the dweller committee. They broke into axe and anvil formations, taking the offensive, then going on the defensive, breaking their magical foes down. But the cost was high. Even as skilled at warfare as the dwarves were, the Boneblights were fearsome opponents.
Elven warders took up positions in the street as well. Most of them had magical weapons that had been handed down throughout families for generations, and they had limited spellcraft for defensive or offensive measures. As a general rule, the warders—elven and the few humans who had undertaken the training—fought alone. They weren’t in their native forests and open lands and the town was a foreign battlefield for them, but they stood up to the Boneblights as fiercely as the dwarven warriors and human sailors.
Many of the warders had animal companions, bound together by magic and the nature of the forest that surrounded Greydawn Moors. Since the whole island had been raised by magic and possibly made from the bodies of monsters, the magic that bound the creatures of the island was rumored to be stronger than that in many other places. Over on the mainland, where Lord Kharrion’s foul magicks still played havoc with the land, Juhg had heard that many animals no longer bonded with warders and that the Old Ways of the elves were fast disappearing.
Even as he reached the wide-open area of the public stables under the deep eaves where the wagons and horses were kept, Juhg saw a large brown bear rear up on its hind legs and snap its jaws over a Boneblight’s head. The creature’s skull went to pieces and the rest of its body shook loose and scattered across the cobblestone street. The bear roared, bleeding from three or four different wounds it had received from the Boneblight. An elf dressed in warder’s leathers lay in a crumpled heap between the bear’s feet.
The second Boneblight that had landed nearby waddled toward Juhg as he scampered inside the open-faced stable. Since the structure faced the south, no wall had been built on that side.
The stable smelled strongly of hay and animals and manure. Hay covered the floor. Stalls held several horses that whinnied in fear and reared up. Evidently the horses scented the Death that clung to the Boneblights.
“Sssstay,” the Boneblight coaxed. Its wings dragged through the hay.
The creature came on faster than Juhg expected. It reached for him suddenly, raking the scythe it carried at his head. Juhg threw his feet out from under himself and slid across the hay-covered floor and under the nearest stall fence.
Inside the stall, the horse reared and stamped its hooves, coming dangerously close to Juhg. As big as the horse was and as small as he was, Juhg knew that if the hooves struck him he’d be dead or broken too much to defend himself against the Boneblight.
Pushing himself to his feet, Juhg ran for the opposite side of the stall, narrowly avoiding getting brained by the horse’s flashing hooves. He tried to stop but skidded into the opposite stall railing, just as the Boneblight clambered atop the railing he’d just left.
Moving quickly, thinking clearly in spite of the fear that rattled through him, Juhg gained the top of the stall and leapt up for the edge of the open loft above him. Standing on top of the stall railing, he was less than two feet below the lip of the loft. He caught the loft’s edge with his fingers and pulled himself up, lifting his feet and hoping that his fingers didn’t slip and he didn’t fall because he knew the Boneblight would be on top of him then.
With his legs lifted, the Boneblight glided just below him, missing him by inches. The creature hit the floor in the next stall and immediately came up squalling and spitting. The horse in that stall attacked the Boneblight, hammering the creature with its hooves. Quick as a wink, the Boneblight raked its scythe across the horse’s neck and slashed its throat.
Sickened by the sight of the handsome animal meeting such a rough death, Juhg glanced upward and pulled himself to the loft. He clawed his way up and levered his body over as the Boneblight climbed after him.
The only weapon Juhg had was the boot knife Raisho had given him. But he knew there were other weapons inside the stable. Many of the animals belonged to the Library and were used to ferry goods and people up and down the Knucklebones Mountains. A dwarf cared for the animals and kept them shoed, as well as keeping their tack in good repair.
Pushing himself to his feet on the loft, Juhg ran across the straw. Quick as a scalded cat, the Boneblight pulled itself up almost immediately afterward and cut Juhg’s lead down, despite his best efforts. As he passed between the haystacks, Juhg caught hold of one of the retainers and spilled it after
him.
The hay tumbled over the Boneblight and almost knocked the creature over the side of the loft, but it retained its balance and kept up its pursuit.
Juhg felt the creature’s pounding footsteps vibrate through the boards that covered the hayloft. Spotting the block and tackle hanging ahead with the rope trailing to the ground, he threw himself forward in a diving rush. The hay provided a slick surface and he shot over the loft’s edge immediately.
The floor lay nearly fifteen feet below. Probably he wouldn’t have broken his neck, but he knew he would have never risen after the fall without the Boneblight on top of him.
He curled his hands around the rope hanging from the block and tackle and hoped that he didn’t break his fingers. If he survived, he knew he’d want to write up his experiences. Realizing that he had that desire might have irked him under other, less hurried, circumstances. No matter how hard he tried to leave the Library and his training behind, it remained constantly there.
In the next instant, the Boneblight flashed by over his head, drawing his full attention. One of the creature’s rough, leathery wings slid across Juhg’s cheek hard enough to scratch and start a warm trickle of blood.
“Juhg!” Raisho yelled from somewhere behind him.
Juhg didn’t bother to reply. Things were happening much too quickly, and he still wasn’t safe. For a moment, it felt like his arms were going to jerk from their sockets as he clung fast to the rope and took his own weight, but he held fast and swung out away from the loft and from the Boneblight momentarily stunned on the floor below.
He spotted the horseshoeing tools in the corner near a stack of saddles, bridles, and other riding gear. Swinging out again, he let go the rope and dropped to the floor, just as the Boneblight surged up again.
“Juhg!” Raisho squalled.
Knowing his friend would arrive too late to help and that his fate rested solely in his own reflexes, Juhg sprinted for the horseshoeing tools. A wooden box held an assortment of knifes, rasps, and cutters. He grabbed one of the hammers with a solid rectangular head on it, just as the Boneblight caught hold of his shoulder.
“Now, dweller,” the Boneblight hissed. “Now I sssshall—”
Turning into the creature’s grip, Juhg brought the horseshoeing hammer up and over his shoulder, judging the weight and feel of it automatically from all those years spent down in the goblinkin mines. He brought the hammer down even more quickly, hitting the Boneblight squarely between the eyes with everything he had.
The heavy hammerhead smashed through the creature’s skull and broke out big pieces of hardened dirt flesh with a loud thud. The pieces exploded across Juhg, bouncing off his chest and face and arms, and the dank taste of the dust filled his mouth and noise. Realizing what the pseudo-flesh was made from on the Boneblights, Juhg gagged and nearly threw up.
For a moment, the Boneblight stood its ground, even though the ruby eyes had disappeared inside the wreckage of the creature’s smashed skull. Then it unraveled, coming apart and cascading to the stable floor in a rush of falling bones.
Raisho pounded up in front of Juhg. The young sailor sucked in his breath and looked at Juhg.
“Ye killed it.”
“Actually,” Juhg said, “it was already dead. Or it was never alive. However you want to look at it.”
“From the looks of it, it ain’t gonna be gettin’ back up again.”
Looking down at the bile of bones and tattered cloth, Juhg nodded in agreement.
“How did ye do it?”
“Hammers.” Juhg held up the one he’d used. “I knew hammers had to be in here.” He gestured at the wooden box of tools. “There are plenty of them, and they’ll be more useful than the cutlass you’re carrying.”
Sliding the cutlass back into his waist sash, Raisho stepped forward and seized two hammers from the box. Both of his choices were bigger than the one Juhg carried.
“All right, then,” Raisho grimaced, “let’s have a look at those blasted creatures, now that I’m more outfitted to take care of them.”
* * *
Raisho insisted on taking the lead. Juhg didn’t argue, though he did suggest that they might join up with the dwarves or the other sailors.
Outside, Juhg had to harden his heart against the sight that greeted him. Several dwellers and more than a few elves, humans, and dwarves lay dead or horribly wounded in the street.
Stepping into the fight, Raisho proved himself to be a ferocious fighter with the twin hammers. He used one to block, then brought the other around to smash in the skulls of the Boneblights that confronted him. His clothing hung in shreds and long, deep scratches decorated his body.
The dwarves worked in concert, leaving piles of bones in their wake. The elven warders and humans were no less successful in their own endeavors. Even Juhg, despite his lack of stature and strength, proved a formidable opponent against the Boneblights in tandem with Raisho.
“Hold the streets!” one of the dwarves roared. Blood masked one eye and his thick, bushy black beard. “Hold the streets an’ protect yer flanks! Watch them beasties a-clingin’ to them rooftops an’ eaves!”
As he peered around, Juhg felt certain that there were fewer Boneblights than there had been earlier. The sky still remained thick with fog, and moisture filled the air now, making breathing harder and the cobblestones slippery and treacherous.
“The docks,” Juhg gasped. “We’ve got to get to the docks.”
“Why?” the dwarf leader asked as he brought his war hammer crashing down on the head of another Boneblight, turning the creature into a heap of broken and splintered bones. “All the fightin’s here. Them creatures is tryin’ to take over the town.”
“No,” Juhg said, bending down and picking up a small buckler from a fallen human that was large enough to serve him as a shield. “The attack here is a distraction. If you want to control a port city, you control the harbor.” He knew that from the books on war that he had read, and what he had seen of goblinkin overtaking ports in the South.
The dwarf regarded Juhg suspiciously. “What are ye talkin’ about, halfer?”
“He’s not just a halfer,” Raisho growled as he bashed another Boneblight. “He’s a Librarian. First Level Librarian Juhg.”
“Look out!” another dwarf cried, stepping forward and lifting his great shield.
Juhg glimpsed a brief spasm of frantic movement as the Boneblight that had glided from one of the nearest buildings tried to alter its glide path. Unfortunately, once the creatures had committed to a course of action, they lacked maneuverability.
The Boneblight crashed against the dwarf’s massive shield with a ringing clang. Unable to hold against the Boneblight’s weight, the dwarf staggered back. Recovering from the impact, the Boneblight tried to get to its feet, only to be met by a half-dozen dwarven war hammers that shattered it to pieces. Those pieces crunched under the dwarves’ hobnailed boots as they kept moving.
“We’ve got to get to the docks,” Juhg insisted. “That’s where the next wave of the attack will come.”
“What wave?” the dwarf demanded.
“This was planned,” Juhg said. “The Boneblights didn’t just happen here. They can’t fly. They glide. They had to glide in from somewhere. They can’t glide across the whole of the Blood-Soaked Sea. The only place that’s possible to do that from is the—”
“The docks,” the dwarven warrior said, understanding then. He rallied his men and got them moving, running pell-mell through the street.
Juhg struggled to keep up. His own exertions, the drain of the emotions he’d warred over within himself these past few days, and having to carry the buckler, which was so heavy for his size, made movement difficult.
“Look!” one of the dwarves cried as they rounded a curving street that led down from the main part of the town to the Yondering Docks. “The sun’s coming through.”
Juhg glanced at the round ball burning through the thick layers of fog that twisted through the air and ma
de seeing more than fifty feet in any direction almost impossible. Then he realized the sun lay out over the harbor when it should have showed more in the direction of the mainland.
“That’s not the sun,” Juhg shouted. “The sun has never risen in the north.” He stared at the glowing ball, realizing that in addition to glowing, the ball was also getting considerably larger.
Just a heartbeat later, Juhg saw the twisting flames fluttering across the ball’s surface and knew what he was looking at.
“Catapult!” he yelled in warning. “Take cov—”
He didn’t get to finish his warning because by that time Raisho had recognized what they were staring at too and was already in motion, taking time to seize Juhg and shove him toward the nearest alley.
The flaming catapult load of pitchblende and rock slammed into the pottery shop on the other side of the street and farther down the hill. The rocks smashed through the shop’s shuttered windows, the door, and the canopy. Fiery pitchblende clung to the walls and roof, igniting fires that sent up thick black smoke to mix in with the skirling fog.
Even twenty feet away, Juhg felt the heat from the pitchblende. Then he heard the screams of dwellers who had been trailing the dwarves who got caught by the spatters of the catapult loads.
He pushed free of Raisho’s protective stance and stared in shocked horror back at the individuals who had been caught in the attack. The stench of burning hair and flesh filled the air, so thick breathing was almost impossible and even then was the stuff that summoned nightmares in the stillness of night.
The dwarves gave anguished cries and started forward, but Juhg knew the only thing the brave warriors could have done was provide a brief release from the burning agony that befell the unfortunates who got caught in the catapult shot. He stared in open-mouthed horror, the buckler and hammer heavy in his arms.
In only a few heartbeats, the terrible event ran its course and the flaming things who had once been living flesh and blood dropped in their tracks and burned where they lay. The fog swirled over the still forms, yielding and making pockets as concession to the great heat.
