by Amy Hopkins
“Bullshit,” Garrett spat. “Remnant don’t group, not like that. They’re roaming hordes. Like ants!”
“Ants have colonies,” Mathias said.
“Ach, like fucking bears then.”
“They don’t roam. Garrett, have you ever seen a bear?” Mathias asked, unable to keep his face straight.
“Are you laughing at me, ye donkey’s dick?” Garrett snapped, hands on his hips.
“Me? Laughing? Not at all.” Mathias’s lips twitched again, and he casually rubbed his mouth to hide it.
“Ahh, go fuck yerself. They’re across the river, ye say?”
Mathias nodded. “We’ll be able to see them, but I wouldn’t advise getting too close.”
“Right, then.” Garrett hooked his thumbs in his belt and leaned back. “We’ll go take a peek and see what the bastards are up to, then decide if we need more men.”
“Garrett, we need more men,” Mathias said flatly.
Tansy shot a worried glance at Bastian. He gave her a brave grin, despite his worry.
“Aye,” the rearick said. “But we’ll need to know how many, and if we can bring in equipment to help.”
Mathias bowed his head. “Very well. But I’m serious, rearick—there’s a lot of them. I’ve never seen anything like it, even in the Madlands.”
Garrett chewed his whiskers, the first sign that his confidence was waning. Still, he didn’t change his orders.
Jakob, Mack, and Sharne returned. “No sign of anything nasty in the trees,” Sharne assured him.
Garrett nodded. “The moldy pricks are across the river,” Garrett said. “We’ll go to the bank, see if we can’t find out what they’re up to.”
“You think they’re a risk, Sarge?” Sharne asked. “Because you sound like you did that time you had to tell Bette you got drunk and threw up in her helmet.”
“It wasn’t the drink!” Garrett protested. “It was me dinner, and that’s that!”
“Sure, Sarge,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But you were still shaking in your boots when she found out, and you had that exact look on your face, too.” She thrust a finger at him.
“Shut yer face, woman,” Garrett grumbled. “We’re just bein’ careful, is all. The ant-speaker here says there might be a few more than we thought.”
“Plus ten?” Mack asked with a grin.
“Aye,” Garrett said, face serious.
Mack raised an eyebrow.
“Come on, then,” Sharne said. “The sooner we find out what they’re up to, the sooner we can put a stop to it.”
Garrett led the way, Mathias by his side to point out trails and paths the animals used to travel the forest. Sharne dropped back to speak with Bastian and Tansy.
“Can you see what he’s thinking, mystic?” she asked.
“I could,” Bastian said, “but I’d get my balls cut off if he found out.”
“We wouldn’t want that!” Tansy said, miming a look of horror.
Bastian regarded her suspiciously. “I can’t tell how sarcastic you’re being,” he said.
She laughed. “I’ve never told you lot to stay out of my head.”
“No,” Bastian said, “but you’re shielded. I mean, I could break through that, but that’s not socially acceptable. Or polite.”
Tansy raised an eyebrow, so Bastian gently sent a tendril of mental magic her way, expecting to be met with a fairly strong shield. To his surprise, there was nothing. He slipped into her mind to see what she was thinking.
As fast as he was in, he shot out again, an image of himself burned into his mind. He had been down at the river behind Tahn, bathing after helping to butcher a deer. Tansy must have followed and spotted him. She had helped that day, so it wouldn't have been unreasonable. The brief flash of memory showed him stretching, his pale, slender figure glistening in the sunlight.
“You’re such a perve!” Bastian gasped. “What the hell, Tansy?”
She burst into laughter, quickly hushed by Garrett. “It was an accident, I didn't know you had already gone down there. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. It’s not like I stripped off and joined you.”
Bastian clamped his mouth shut, refusing to rise to her bait, even as his cheeks burned. She clutched her stomach with one hand, the other clamped over her mouth to stifle her laughter.
“Settle down, you two,” Sharne said, though she, too, was smiling. “You don’t want to bring down a remnant raiding party on our heads.
Tansy sobered immediately. “What exactly are we walking into?” she asked.
Sharne sighed. “Hopefully? Nothing. We sneak in, get an idea of their numbers, and run like hell. If it’s as bad as I think, we don’t want to catch their attention.”
“And if we do?” Bastian asked, anxiety rising again as his mind brushed over the very real possibility of this coming to a fight they couldn’t win.
Sharne shrugged. “We fight. We hope help comes.” She regarded him carefully. “If they see you’re afraid, they’ll come for you first,” she said. “Stay back. Stay low. Don’t stick your neck out if you can help it.”
“We’ll keep you safe, love,” Tansy said. For once, there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in her words.
Bastian blew out a slow breath as, up ahead, Garrett called for the party to halt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“There’s the river,” Garrett called softly. “We go south.”
They stayed behind the trees as they followed the river downstream. Over the gurgling water, Bastian heard the clink of stone on metal. He held up a hand, and the whole party stopped.
“What’s that?” he asked in a loud whisper, cupping one ear.
Garrett gestured for Bastian to come up beside him. He pointed across the water. “See that?” he asked.
Through the smatter of leaves and over the spray of water on rocks, Bastian saw it. A remnant, sitting on the other side of the water, whacking at a furred body with a rusted knife.
The remnant stopped, laying the knife down to push its hand inside the corpse. It pulled out and lifted a small organ. Blood ran down its arm as he lifted it to his nose, then licked it.
“That’s revolting,” Bastian whispered under his breath.
“Look beyond.” Garrett gently nudged Bastian to one side. As he moved, leaning his head to look round a fat tree trunk, Bastian's heart dropped into his boots.
A flat clearing dotted with stubby buildings lay beyond. At least twelve remnant were visible, sitting by their kills or stuffing meat into their mouths. A fire pit smoked in the middle.
“Oh, shit,” Bastian whimpered.
“A shit on the ground is a wee inconvenience,” Garrett told him. “This? This is a Bitch-damned clusterfuck.”
They withdrew back into the trees.
“So, what now?” Jakob asked. “Do we risk engaging them?”
Garrett bit down hard on a clump of beard, letting it tug at his skin as he chewed it. “I think me lass would skin me alive if we did.”
“I can send for reinforcements,” Mathias said. “It will be faster than travelling back ourselves. We don’t want to let the opportunity go to waste, do we?”
Garrett’s eyes shot open wide, and he grinned. “Perfect! Then if we… err, accidentally start a tousle, she can’t say I broke me promise!”
“Wait,” Bastian said. “You mean you’d run on in there, sword raised, if you weren’t scared of Bette?”
Garrett looked shocked. “I’m no’ scared of her. I just know how to keep me hide in one piece, is all.”
Mathias cupped his hands, and he whistled into them, a trilling bird call that echoed through the forest sounding just like a normal animal call. A moment later, a bird noisily flapped down from the canopy.
“Here, Percival,” Mathias said, pulling a tiny pen from his belt. A thin ribbon of parchment wrapped around its shaft, and he unfurled a length, tearing it off. “Take this to Bette. No, that’s Tessa—Yes, I know she feeds you, but this isn’t about your lunch. Bette!”
Once the note was secured, the bird jumped off his hand with a rough flutter of wings. Mathias watched it weave between the trees, almost smacking into one, then veering off to one side before correcting its course.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve such an idiot familiar,” he muttered. “If he wasn’t so loyal, he’d be dinner.”
At Bastian’s horrified look, Mathias shrugged. “It was a joke. More or less.”
A warbling yell came from the other side of the river, and Garrett peeked out through the trees again. “Would ye look at that!” he exclaimed.
Bastian nudged Mathias aside to join the rearick. Across the water, by the cooking fire, a band of five remnant had gathered. One stood apart, noticeable for his layers and layers of brightly colored clothing scraps.
He wore a battered helmet, one side smeared with some kind of dark paint. Probably blood, Bastian thought with distaste.
The remnant leader jumped onto a rock. “We hunt?” he called, and the others raised a cry in agreement.
“We hunt!” they chanted. “Hunt with Chet!”
Chet yelled over them, crying, “We hunt big meal today! We eat and be strong and kill monster if they come!”
“Chet! Chet! Chet!” The rallying cry made Bastian shiver.
“That is not normal behavior for a remnant,” he whispered to Garrett.
“No,” Garrett said, watching two of the hunters jostle each other. Then, one turned and stabbed the other in the throat with a knife. “But that is. Wonder what could have brought them together like that?”
“Whatever it is, it’s bad news for us,” Jakob said. “An organized enemy is always harder than one with no bonds.”
“They’re remnant, lad,” Garrett said confidently. “They might call one name today, but if there’s a fresh feed in it, they’ll stab his guts and sit on the body while they eat it.”
Jakob frowned, unconvinced. He watched the band of hunters run across the river, slipping on stones and splashing the shallow water as they went. “Looks like they’re headed south of us, but we should pull back.”
Garrett hesitated, then nodded. “Aye.” He let the leaves fall back over the scene ahead and nodded to Jakob. “We’ll go back to the ruins. Once we’ve a few more bodies with us, we’ll go clean the bastards out.”
“Do you want eyes on their camp or the hunting party?” Mathias asked, his eyes green.
“Watch the camp,” Garrett said. “We know there were six of them with old Chet or Shit or whatever he calls himself. I want to know how many are back there.”
The druid nodded, and his brows drew together as he concentrated, keeping half an eye on the path ahead while he used his animal-sight to watch the remnant camp.
“Do you think waiting at the ruins is wise?” Bastian asked, hurrying up to walk beside Garrett. “That’s where they attacked us last time.”
Garrett shook his head. “They won’t return there, not after the thrashin’ yer lass gave them.”
The mention of Tansy made Bastian’s ears burn. He glanced back at her. She walked by Jakob’s side, chatting about something as she skipped along, unimpeded by the heavy forest growth.
“So ye do have yer eye on ‘er,” Garrett said, grinning.
“What?” Bastian yelped. “I didn’t say that!”
“No, but yer face did!” Garrett barked, slapping his thigh. “Ah, ye poor, naïve, wee thing. That girl has ye wrapped around ‘er finger, and ye don’t even know it yet, do ye?”
“I’m not wrapped around her anything,” Bastian grumbled. He couldn’t help another glance back, though. His eyes met Tansy’s, and she winked at him, sending his emotions scattering to every end of the spectrum. “Bitch’s oath,” he muttered.
“Aye, that’s about how I felt when young Bette caught me eye,” Garrett said knowingly. “I had me head in such a state I didn’t know if I liked her, or if I wanted to run away!”
“So, you dueled her instead,” Bastain sighed. “It’s different for a rearick.”
“Aye?” Garrett said. “How’s that?”
“You’re built for fighting!” Bastian exclaimed, then remembered to lower his voice. “You’re tough and brave, and you can kill remnant just by looking at them! I’m weak and pasty and jump at my own damn shadow.”
“Ye got brains, though,” Garrett said, tapping his head. “Some lasses like a man with a good head. Not so much as a man who gives it, but there’s no sayin’ ye can’t—”
Garrett’s words were cut off by a warbling scream behind them. Bastian spun to see three remnant racing up the trail behind them.
“Go!” Garrett yelled. “Get ta the ruins! We can fight ‘em there!”
Bastian didn’t need to be told twice. He turned and ran—but not before stopping to grab Tansy’s hand, pulling her along with him.
She raced along beside him, seemingly without effort. “Why, Bastian,” she said, voice jumping as she vaulted over a fallen tree. “Did you just think of my safety before yours?”
“I figured you’ll save my ass later,” he quipped. “You can’t do that if a remnant is wearing you like a winter coat.”
“Cheeky bastard,” she giggled, then dropped his hand and sprinted ahead to leap through the crumbling wall.
Bastian heaved himself through, then turned to help Sharne and Mathias climb through the gap.
Garrett and Jakob stood at either side, waiting until the others were safe behind the wall.
“Shall we stand here, rearick?” Jakob asked.
Garrett shook his head. “Inside. The boy needs ta get ‘is hands bloody, and he can’t do that if we kill the bastards out here.”
He grinned, and as Jakob levitated himself over the wall, Garrett plunged through the gap himself, rolling to his feet on the other side.
Silence fell. The air was heavy with anticipation as the team stood waiting for the remnant to bust through the narrow space between the stones.
“Do ye think we scared ‘em off?” Mack whispered.
“I don’t think I’d say they’re feeling scared,” Tansy said, voice wavering.
Bastian turned to her, taking in her raised arm and wide eyes. On top of the tiny, crumbling room he had seen on his previous visit, a remnant stood, bright scraps of clothing flapping in the breeze.
Chet bared his yellowed teeth in a wicked grin, then vaulted to the ground, barking out a loud, wordless cry. The noise set off a cacophony of yells and hoots as remnant swarmed the walls, slithering over and dropping to the ground even as others poured through the openings on all sides.
“AMBUSH!” Garrett hollered, backing up as he drew his sword.
“Stay with me,” Tansy snapped to Bastian, moving between him and a remnant.
Bastian’s breath stuck in his throat as time slowed. He watched a remnant leap into the air towards them, loose skin slowly contorting as it left the ground, seeming to float before gradually falling to land on one steady foot.
Bastian blinked, and time resumed. Before he could suck a gasp into his starved lungs, the remnant was on them, clawing at Tansy’s face before she kicked him away, then spun to plant a dagger in its eye.
The remnant fell, howling and clutching its face. Another one appeared to take its place.
Tansy put a hand behind her, shoving Bastian stumbling back before swinging her knives around. A slice across the remnant’s belly spilled intestines on the ground, releasing the smell of shit into the air.
“Either get down, or fight!” Tansy yelled, then jumped into the air, landing on a soft body with one foot and using it as a launch pad to spring into a duo of remnant that had descended on Sharne.
Bastian yanked out his sword, holding it out with a white-knuckled grip. A remnant saw him and grinned before sauntering over with a jagged, broken knife.
Cries of “Chet, Chet!” rang out sporadically, and the monster headed for Bastian echoed the chant in a guttural growl.
The remnant flew back and slammed into a wall. Bastian jumped and
spun to see what had made him change course. Jakob gave him a quick salute before twisting his hands again and sending a fiery blast into the fallen enemy.
“I’m not cut out for this shit,” Bastian gasped as Garrett slid across the ground in front of him, then rolled into an attack stance and slammed his sword up between a remnant’s legs.
Warm drops sprayed on Bastian’s face, and he wiped his eyes with a sleeve, swallowing hard when he saw the smear of blood on his shirt.
Eyes darting back to Tansy, Bastian saw her facing off with two remnant, expertly darting her weapons back and forth to block their blows, landing small cuts on them every few seconds. Both dripped with blood, but gave no sign they noticed the wounds.
Behind her, a remnant wrestled with Mack, until the soldier shoved the beast away and was immediately body slammed by another one. The freed remnant spotted Tansy and hissed.
It ran for her, and Bastian realized she had no chance of disengaging her attackers to face the new threat. His heart lurched as he threw himself forwards, running on light feet to slam his shoulder into the remnant.
They flew sideways, and the creature landed in the dirt. Bastian managed to keep his footing, but only just. As his foe scampered back and jumped to its feet, Bastian softened his knees and dropped into the stance Bette had taught him.
“Now or never,” the mystic muttered, as his death grinned back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Marcus staggered at the top of the mountain and collapsed to his knees. Julianne still lay in his arms, limp and unmoving. Sweat dripped down his back, chilling his skin to send wracking shivers down his spine when he stopped.
Julianne groaned and twitched. “Leave me alone,” she muttered.
“Jules?” Marcus shook her gently, careful not to jar her sore arm.
Her eyes flashed open and filled with white, her face still. Then, she wriggled away from him, sitting flat on the snow-covered ground.
“Help!” he called weakly.
“Donna’s here,” she said urgently. “Inside. But they think she’s—”
The old, oaken doors to the temple groaned and swung open.
“Master?” a white-robed man ran out, ignoring Marcus as he knelt by Julianne, heedless of the snow on his knees. “Master, why are you out in this weather?”
