I took a step towards one of the islands, but the muck beneath the water gripped my feet, and my left foot popped out of my shoe. I shot forward, waving my arms for balance, and fell face-first into the water.
That wasn’t pleasant. The water was cold and clammy, and it got into my nostrils and mouth. I heaved to my feet, my sodden clothes clinging to me, and spat out as much of the water as I could. God, but it tasted vile, and I didn’t even want to think about what kind of nasty things were swimming in it. I staggered forward and climbed onto one of the little islands, the grass cold against my bare feet. I had lost my shoes in the muck, and I wasn’t about to go back and find them.
I wouldn’t miss the damned things either. If I lived long enough for another job, the next time I would make sure I chose a disguise that allowed me to wear running shoes.
I reached the top of the island, pulled off my wet mask and cap and sandwich worker’s coat, and looked around. Ahead of me I saw mountains, and further up the slope I saw the colossal, crumbling towers and ramparts of Grayhold itself. Rimethur’s spell had deposited me within the Knight’s demesne, somewhere within the mountains I had seen earlier, but not within the citadel of Grayhold.
“Jerk,” I muttered. Well, he hadn’t killed me, so I suppose I couldn’t be too mad. I still clutched the Ringbyrne Amulet in my right hand, so I pushed open my blazer’s sodden pocket and shoved the thing into it, the sengejarme on my wrist clinking against the amulet. In the distance, I saw a road leading from the swamp, climbing up the slope to the massive gates of Grayhold. I thought the half-ruined fortress was about five miles away.
So. A five mile walk, uphill, in my bare feet. It wouldn’t be pleasant, but I had endured worse. Alexandra would probably consider it an exotic new workout of some kind.
I trudged through the swamp, making my way from little island to little island, wading through the muck when necessary. I started to shiver, my wet hair plastered against my neck. I had been much more comfortable in the frozen rotunda of the Capitol. Evidently the sengejarme protected me from elemental magic, but didn’t give a damn about normal cold.
The swamp started to dry up, and I made my way through grassy hills, more of the trees with the blue-glowing leaves scattered here and there. I had to go slowly, because I didn’t want to step on something sharp and rip my foot open. Despite that, part of my mind, quite a lot of my mind, screamed for me to run. The anthrophages were still looking for me. The Knight’s magic might have driven them off the last time, but the Knight wasn’t here. For that matter, there were countless other things in the Shadowlands that could kill me. The anthrophages might want to kill me personally, but there were numerous creatures in the Shadowlands that would kill me for a meal or simply because it would be fun.
For that matter, Rimethur had mentioned a trial. Was this it? Making my way across the Shadowlands to Grayhold? As trials went, that seemed pretty straightforward. Of course, there might be something else to it.
Oh, who was I kidding? Of course there would be something else to it.
A sudden suspicion took me, and I started to summon power for a rift way spell. As I expected, the Ringbyrne Amulet vibrated in my pocket (almost like a cell phone, really), and my spell fell apart. The logical solution would have been to take a rift way back to Earth, and then cast the spell again upon the sengejarme, transporting me back to Grayhold itself. I could do that, but if I did, I would arrive at Grayhold without the amulet, and I couldn’t free Alexandra and I couldn’t give the amulet to Morvilind.
“Games, games, games,” I muttered to myself. “Damned games. Damned stupid games.”
I rebuked myself and shut up. Talking to myself was not a sign of mental health. And undoubtedly there were creatures in the Shadowlands that had far better hearing than humans. My grumbling might bring them down upon my head.
A short time later the road I had spotted came into sight. It wasn’t one of the warded ways that crisscrossed the Shadowlands, taking travelers and armies to the umbras of different worlds. Maybe the Knight himself had built this road. It was a flat, level expanse of gleaming gray stone, weaving its away around the hills and towards the grim pile of Grayhold. I stepped upon it with a sigh of relief. The road was cold and flat and hard, but it was smooth and a lot easier on my feet than the rough ground. I was trying not to shiver, but the constant cold wind that blew through the Shadowlands seemed to soak into my wet clothes. I tugged my blazer tighter, the Ringbyrne Amulet digging into my ribs, wrapped my arms tight around myself for warmth, and hurried along the road, the ragged mass of Grayhold growing a little closer with every step.
The road got steeper, the hills rockier. Ruins marked some of the hills, stone walls and tumbled columns and cracked domes. I wondered who had built them. Or maybe no one had ever built them. Sometimes events on Earth cast a distorted reflection into the Shadowlands, and the land itself reformed to a twisted image of those events. Maybe those ruins were a legacy of some ancient battle on Earth. Or perhaps people had lived here once. Under the protection of the Knight, I suppose there could have been villages or even towns in Grayhold. Though I couldn’t imagine wanting to live in this bleak place.
I shook my head. My thoughts were wandering, scattered by exertion and the chill that had sank into my bones. I wanted to sit in a hot bath with a hot cup of coffee and stay there for hours. If I lived through this, that was the first thing I would do. No, the first thing I would do would be to see Russell and the Marneys, have a hot meal with them. I wanted that more than anything. Maybe I would even spend the night. Hell, I would even go to church with them if they asked.
None of that would happen if I didn’t keep going, so I plodded along, my feet slapping the cold road.
Nothing disturbed me as I walked. I saw more of the ruins, interspersed with some of the gray obelisks I had seen earlier in their woods. Here and there massive lumps of shiny black stone rested amidst the ruins, misshapen spheres that resembled a giant bug curled up into a ball. I gazed at one of those lumps as I passed. Strange patterns marked the side of the boulder, and I couldn’t help but think that it did look like a giant insect curled up into a ball…
The boulder started to unfold.
I realized that it looked like a giant insect curled around itself because it really was a giant insect.
There was no time to run. I summoned power, the magic of the Shadowlands roaring into me, and I forced the power into the shape of a Cloaking spell. I vanished from sight just as the boulder unfolded into a nightmarish insect-like creature about the size of a horse. It looked like an amalgamation of a scorpion and a mantis, all claws and pincers and barbed stingers. Slime glistened on its carapace, a vile stench like decaying meat mixed with rotten eggs filling my nostrils. Its head looked like that of a human woman, albeit with pincers rising from the jaw and a tongue covered in spines.
My stomach crawled with revulsion, but I forced myself to stay still. If I moved, my Cloak would collapse, and the creature would see me.
I suspected that I would wish that Rogomil had shot me if that happened.
“Blood, blood, blood,” croaked the insect-creature in the Elven language, skittering forward on its legs. The nostrils of the human-like face flared. “I smell blood and meat and marrow. Fresh and young.” God, how many times had things threatened to eat me today? “Meat for me, meat for me.”
Yet the insect-creature couldn’t find me. It turned back and forth, lashing its tail, and a frustrated whine came from its mouth. Evidently it did not have the anthrophages’ keen sense of smell. I stayed motionless, shaking a little from both the cold and the strain of the spell, sweat dripping down my face despite the chill.
At last the creature let out an angry snarl and turned, skittering back up the hill to its lair in the ruins. I let out a shaking breath. I would let the creature go back to sleep or hibernation or whatever it did, and then I would get the hell out of here.
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than a gray blur bounded up t
he hill, running towards the insect-like creature, and the cold chill in my bones got sharper.
It was an anthrophage.
The insect-like creature whirled, screaming a challenge, and two more anthrophages erupted from the ruins, gaunt and lean and gray. I couldn’t tell if they were members of the pack that I had fought earlier, or if I just had the ill luck to stumble on another band of anthrophages.
The insect-creature opened one of the anthrophages from throat to groin with a slash of its pincers, black slime and grayish organs slithering onto the hillside. Another anthrophage sprang upon the insect-like creature’s back, ripping open its exoskeleton with black claws.
Both the insect creature and the anthrophages held each other’s full attention. If I could slip away while they dueled, perhaps I could run for the gates of Grayhold before the anthrophages got organized and set after me. Not that I had much choice. I couldn’t maintain the Cloaking spell for very much longer.
The insect-like creature stumbled behind a crumbling wall, screaming in fury and pain as a half-dozen anthrophages swarmed over it, biting and clawing. For a moment, I ought to be out of sight.
I dropped my Cloak, spun, and ran as fast as I could.
Nothing happened, and I kept running. The insect-like creature’s screams rang out, growing weaker and fainter. The anthrophages were winning the fight. With luck, they would stop to feast before they bothered to notice that I had escaped…
A familiar wailing scream rang out. I shot a look over my shoulder and saw all six of the anthrophages standing over the dead insect-thing, their venomous yellow eyes glaring up at me like sulfurous flames.
I cursed and ran faster, and all the anthrophages took off after me, dropping to all fours as they loosed their hunting cries.
I couldn’t outrun those anthrophages, no more than I could outrun a man on a motorcycle. My lightning spell might let me take down one or two, but the rest would jump over the corpses of their fellows to tear me apart. Occluding or Masking would be useless. Cloaking would let me hide from them, but only for a few moments, and they would not give up before I had to drop the Cloak.
I would have do something clever. I had no idea what, but…
A gleam caught my eye as the ribbons of fire overhead reflected off something shiny. I saw a broad pond lying between two of the hills, shallow enough that I could see the rounded pebbles lying on its bottom. Apparently I was not yet high enough for the swamp to dry up completely.
As I looked at the water, a desperate idea came to me.
It was a stupid idea and might get me killed. On the other hand, the anthrophages were going to run me down and eat me. Getting killed while trying to fight back seemed like an improvement.
“Come on, you stinking gray bastards!” I screamed, veering left off the road and running towards the pond. “Come on, you want some lunch? Come and get me!”
I sprinted into the pond, the black water splashing around my legs. Running barefoot through freezing water in a pond with a pebble-strewn bottom is not fun, but the terror gave me speed. I crossed the pond and scrambled up the shore on the far side, wet sand squishing between my toes.
The anthrophages, now nine strong, raced into the pond after me, gaining with terrifying speed. By the time I turned around, they were already halfway across the pond, the black water foaming white around their talons, their tongues hanging over their fangs. It made them look like demented, twisted hyenas.
Another few seconds and they would kill me.
I summoned every last bit of magic I could draw, poured it into my will, and cast a spell. A globe of lightning the size of my head spun into existence over my outstretched hand, and it wobbled from my fingers. It was too powerful, too volatile, and I couldn’t control the thing. It missed every single one of the anthrophages.
But that was all right, because it landed in the middle of the pond.
There was a crackling snarl, and tiny fingers of blue-white lightning jumped across the surface of the water. The anthrophages went into wild, jerking dances as the water conducted the lightning into their flesh, warbling screams erupting from their fanged jaws
I didn’t know if it would kill them, and I didn’t stay long enough to find out. I turned and ran back to the road, and once I reached it I sprinted as fast as I could, my wet skirt sawing against my thighs with every step. I might have stunned the anthrophages, but they would be back. Worse, they might have friends nearby, and their cries would have drawn them. Or more of those insect-things might wake up and come after me, though fear of the anthrophages had kept the others wrapped in their shiny boulder-forms.
I ran like hell. I had spent a lot of time running on treadmills, pushing myself to go a little faster and a little further every time, and I drew on every single bit of that experience now. The walls of Grayhold loomed ahead, maybe two miles distant. If I could get to the crumbling fortress before the anthrophages reached me, I would be safe. They wouldn’t dare to confront the Knight’s power in his stronghold. Maybe even they wouldn’t dare to come this close to Grayhold, lest they draw the Knight’s attention…
A gray blur moved in the hills ahead.
An anthrophage, coming right at me.
I skidded to a halt, raised my right hand, and cast a spell. Magic burst from me, and a wobbling globe of lightning leaped from my hand and caught the anthrophage in the misshapen face. The anthrophage’s head snapped back, and the creature lost its balance and fell, the back of its head bouncing off the smooth road with a loud crack.
I kept running.
“Take her!”
The familiar, horrible voice filled my ears, and I saw a white shape bounding over the ruins upon a nearby hill. It was the fat anthrophage that had pursued me earlier, the creature the Knight had called an anthrophage elder. As I had suspected, its bulk did now slow it in the slightest. If anything, it was faster than its smaller minions.
I tried to go faster.
“Take her! The masters command it!” shrieked the anthrophage elder. “Take her and they shall reward us. Take her and we shall feast!”
More gray shapes moved along the sides of the road, hemming me in. They were preparing to surround me, or to force me off the road where they could take me with ease. I started to summon power, preparing to cast the spell for a lightning globe.
It was the only thing that saved my life.
One of the anthrophages took a running leap, and I didn’t have time to dodge. The sinewy creature knocked me backwards, its clawed hands grasping my shoulders. The fanged mouth yawned wide to bite my head, its vile breath washing over me. I had pulled together the power for a lightning globe, and instead I worked a far simpler spell. As the anthrophage’s jaws opened to bite, I raised my palm and summoned fire. Morvilind could have summoned a simmering ball of flame, so hot it could melt steel. All I could manage was a wild cone of fire that erupted from my hand.
Of course, the cone of fire engulfed the anthrophage’s head, so that was good enough. The creature reared back with a scream, raising its hands to cover its burning face. I yanked back my legs and kicked as Morvilind’s various tutors had taught me, driving both of my heels into the anthrophage’s left knee. That would have broken a human’s kneecap, but the anthrophage’s bones were too hard for that. Nevertheless, the impact knocked the anthrophage over, the creature clutching at its burning head.
I rolled to my feet and kept running. Grayhold loomed up before me like a massive cliff, a thousand empty windows staring down at me. Just a little farther…
Another anthrophage hit me, and I went down hard, the breath blasting from my lungs. I tried to get my right hand up to cast a spell, but a clawed hand seized my wrist and pinned it to the ground. The anthrophage grinned down at me, and I slapped my left hand against its chest, preparing another spell. The creature hissed and pushed my hand aside with iron strength. As it did, its hand slipped and brushed the left side of my chest.
There was a sizzling sound, the smell of burned flesh, and
the anthrophage jerked back with a scream, smoke rising from its charred fingers. For a moment confusion pushed through my terror. I hadn’t cast any spells. I hadn’t burned the anthrophage. I heaved myself backwards as the anthrophage clutched at its burned hand, my blazer falling open. My shredded blazer – the anthrophage’s claws had cut open the left side of my jacket, though its talons hadn’t reached my skin.
But it had touched the Ringbyrne Amulet.
I got to my feet, yanking the amulet from my pocket just as the burned anthrophage lunged at me with a scream. I swung the amulet on its chain like a big metal yo-yo, and it hit the anthrophage in the chest. I expected the amulet to bounce off, maybe to leave a bruise or a burn on the creature’s chest.
Instead, the amulet ripped through the anthrophage’s chest like a red-hot blade, carving a smoking gash as wide as my hand. The anthrophage dropped to the road, twitching like a half-crushed bug. The amulet bounced against my hand, and I flinched, expecting it to be hot, but instead it felt cool to the touch.
Whatever the Ringbyrne Amulet was, it didn’t seem fond of the anthrophages.
I took a step back, intending to turn and run the final distance to the gates of Grayhold, and froze.
The anthrophages had caught up to me.
There were nearly a hundred of the damned creatures, and they spread out in a ring to surround me. Some of them wore the guise they used upon Earth, tall, gaunt men in crisp black suits and silken black ties. Others were in their natural forms, gaunt and gray with black claws and spines. The anthrophage elder smirked behind them, a bloated shape in its gleaming white suit.
Frost Fever Page 15
