Forgotten Lore (Updated M-W-F)

Chapter 99

The camp was situated in a niche in the cliffs, atop a broad stone shelf that offered a good view of the adjacent forest. Kurok had chosen this spot because it was both defensible and yet far enough within the valley to serve as a useful base of operations. The southern part of the valley tapered until it culminated in these cliffs, crumbling walls that rose in places to over a hundred paces above the forest floor. The peak that gave the place its name was visible in the north above the treetops, looking almost close enough to touch. Kurok knew that was an illusion, one that masked the danger that lie in that direction.

The camp was far more disordered than a hobgoblin warcamp would have been, but that could perhaps be forgiven given the nature of his current companions. Even as he watched from the protruding rock where he’d chosen to take his rest several goblins were working to assemble loose stones into a breastwork that would shield the entrance to the niche when they were finished. At the pace they were going that would be maybe a month, but the chore kept them busy when they weren’t out on scouting duty. And every little bit helped, Kurok mused.

Suddenly every one of the worgs that was lounging in the sun lifted its head and let out a low growl that was directed at the forest. The goblins quickly ceased their labors and recovered their weapons. One ran for his mount, but stopped when Kurok rose and said, “It’s all right. Stay here, but remain wary.”

The goblins and their pets obeyed, but Kurok could feel their intent stares on his back as he walked forward to the edge of the shelf. The slope that led down to the forest was steep, rocky, and clear of the scattered brush that had littered it on their initial arrival. They were still being careful, lighting fires only after full dark and covering the tracks left by the scouting teams as best they could, but Kurok knew that the chance of discovery would only increase as his forces expanded their search. Not that it mattered; he would continue even if his goal turned out to be within sight of the walls of the human town. He would continue even if his goal was within the human town.

He scanned the forest. The trees were scattered thinly enough that he could see clearly for several hundred paces, but nothing stirred within the woods as far as he could see. But he could sense what had alerted the worgs, a sensation akin to a soft tickle upon the back of his neck.

He resisted the sudden urge to seize hold of his magic. “Come forward,” he said instead, in a voice that was not raised but still carried to the trees.

A shape responded. It was closer than he would have guessed, on the very fringes of where the trees ended. It was the size of a large goblin or maybe a small hobgoblin, colored to blend smoothly in with its surroundings. It wasn’t just good camouflage; the colors shifted as it moved, continuing to adapt to what was around it.

As the shrouded figure approached Kurok could see it more clearly. The shifting drape parted to reveal dark trousers and knee-high black boots that found easy purchase on the awkward slope. The figure hastened its pace slightly as it came closer, but Kurok held up a hand to stop it.

“Show yourself,” he commanded.

The stranger hesitated, then reached up and drew back his cowl. As the weak afternoon sunlight played across his face he flinched back, one hand coming up to shield his eyes. The light revealed thin features, with slanted brows and pointed ears. Pale hair that was almost pure white framed skin that was as dark as coal.

“You are Vedaros?” Kurok asked.

“Who else would I be?” the other challenged. The drow finished his climb, still squinting in obvious discomfort against the sunlight.

Kurok let the other’s attitude pass, for the moment. “I am Kurok. I am of the Blooded.”

“I figured,” Vedaros said. “Your camp isn’t very well concealed. I could smell it half a mile off.”

“I have scouts well out,” Kurok said.

“They did not detect me.”

“No,” Kurok said, thinking to have a word about that with Usk later. “Isn’t that a bit ironic, wearing that cloak?”

Vedaros made a sour grin and flourished the elven cloak. It shimmered as the enchantment upon it tried to keep up with the sudden movement. “Do you like it? Is it not appropriate that I garb myself in the styles of the surface world, now?”

Kurok made a small gesture. “Come, unless you prefer to stand out here in the open.”

“Lead, and I shall follow,” the drow said.

The camp lacked anything approaching real privacy, though there was a space far back in the cleft where an overhanging slab of rock created a small chamber. Vedaros looked relieved to be out of the sunlight, though he remained obviously wary as Kurok gestured for him to seat himself on one of the loose boulders that cluttered the space. The hobgoblin took another that both placed the cliff wall at his back and gave him a clear view of the rest of the camp.

“I was told you would have a company of giants with you,” Kurok said once they were settled.

The drow’s expression quickly soured at that. “They proved… unreliable.”

“You could not control them?”

“The ogres proved biddable enough, but they no longer live.”

“You had best explain what has happened,” Kurok said.

The hobgoblin’s expression did not shift as Vedaros gave a brief overview of the battle that had led to the death of most of his force. “We might have gained victory, had not the giant decided to take his leave,” the drow said.

“It appears that you escaped easily enough,” Kurok noted.

Anger flashed in the drow’s dark eyes. “My orders were to keep the valley isolated and to prevent supplies from reaching the town.”

“It would seem that this objective was not achieved.”

“The escort of this caravan was more powerful than I was led to believe,” Vedaros said. “They included veteran warriors and spellcasters, multiple casters.”

“I was told that your own command of the arcane arts was… significant,” Kurok said.

“I destroyed the wagon carrying the armaments for the garrison,” Vedaros shot back. “How would a hundred crossbows and several barrels of ammunition have affected your mission?”

Kurok noted that detail. He had known that the Blooded had a source of information in the humans’ lands, but apparently Vedaros had access to rather specific knowledge that could prove useful. “A mission that will be that much more challenging without the forces that were entrusted to you,” the warlock said.

Vedaros got up and strode back and forth in the confined space. Kurok was amazed how easily the dark elf got rattled. On the one hand it would make him easier to manipulate, but on the other it did not bode well for him as a resource. Kurok waited until the drow gathered himself. “What’s done is done,” Vedaros finally said. “I am here to provide support to your mission. Your scouts, have they found anything yet?”

Kurok did not answer the question directly. “Time is an important factor, but we must be cautious,” he said. “The humans must not be alerted to our presence, especially if they have been reinforced by powerful individuals like the ones who destroyed your force.”

Vedaros waved a hand dismissively. “They are not likely to be a problem. The town folk barely stir from behind their walls, especially now.”

Kurok looked at him. “Why especially now?”

“Then you did not know? A chimera has intruded upon the north valley. It assaulted the town a few days ago, though it did not cause much damage. I had thought that our… associates might have been behind its presence.”

There was some prodding there, but Kurok ignored it as he had the drow’s other provocations. He looked thoughtful. “I need more information. It is my understanding that we have a resource in the town?”

Vedaros made a small snort. “He is unlikely to be of much use.”

“Surely he would at least know something of the various candidate sites in the north valley, at least.” At the look on the other’s face Kurok continued, “You have not spoken with him?”

Vedaros yanked up the sleeve of his coat to reveal the inky black skin of his arm. “I cannot exactly stroll into Wildrush now, can I?”

Kurok took a deep breath and resisted the urge to smear the drow’s brains across the rock face. “Your kind is supposed to be resourceful,” he said. Vedaros opened his mouth, but before he could say anything his eyes flicked to the side. Kurok turned and saw that Usk had returned. The goblin chief looked like he’d run afoul of trouble. Fresh dirt was caked on his coat, and specks of blood were visible on his leggings.

“What happened?” Kurok asked.

“One of the scouting parties was attacked,” Usk said. “By giant bird-creatures. Ferocious things. They slew two goblins and one of the worgs, and crippled the other. They flew off when we arrived, but they took the bodies of my riders with them.”

“Describe these bird-creatures,” Kurok said.

“They had the bodies of eagles, but the heads of stags. There were four that we saw, but from the signs there may have been more.”

“Perytons,” Vedaros said.

Kurok nodded. “Great One, our weapons, they had little effect upon the creatures,” Usk said. “They shrugged off even the bites from the worgs.”

“The creatures are resistant to all but magical weapons,” Vedaros said dismissively.

Kurok didn’t look back at the drow. “Gather your riders,” he said to Usk. “I will go to deal with these beasts myself.”

“As you command, Blooded,” the goblin said before withdrawing.

“They will likely avoid a large group,” Vedaros said.

Kurok turned and cut off what else the drow had been about to say with a hard look. “You will go to Wildrush and make contact with the spy. You will do it quietly, and not draw attention to yourself or our mission. You will extract a detailed report from this individual. And you will make sure that your giant-killers do not interfere with our plans.”

“Those instructions are inherently contradictory,” Vedaros said, but after a moment the expression on Kurok’s face caused him to look away. “Very well,” he said. “What will you do?”

“What I have to,” Kurok said. “Whatever I have to do, to accomplish my mission. Do not forget that, drow.”

Chapter 100

The terrain to the north of Wildrush grew increasingly rugged the further the small party moved away from the town. Occasionally they emerged from mazes of ravines and ridges or dense stands of trees to see the snowcapped heights of Silverpeak in the distance, but for the most part they were unable to see more than fifty paces away in any direction.

Bredan knew that was partly by design. Rodan led them along trails that only he knew, when the blacksmith could even see a trail at all. The ranger avoided routes that looked easy but which would have left them completely exposed and visible from a great distance to something flying above. The man seemed to be in his element, and Bredan could respect the simple fact of his competence.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed; he caught Glori giving the man an evaluative look more than once. Kosk was less generous in his praise; he frequently muttered comments under his breath as the ranger directed them into a particularly challenging piece of landscape.

Bredan knew that the dwarf’s ire wasn’t really for Rodan. As they were making their way through a gully that was choked with dense tangles of thorny brush, Bredan saw Kosk glance back and heard him mutter, “They face a known threat, and the best they can manage is half measures.”

Rodan was a good ten paces ahead, but he stopped and looked at them. “These men aren’t hunters,” he said, careful to keep his voice low enough so that the men bringing up the rear of their small column couldn’t hear. “Breaking up a few fights and standing a few watches doesn’t prepare a man for something like this.”

The others had stopped as well. The three men that had come from Wildrush with them seemed to sense that they were the topic of the exchange. One of them they knew already; Willem was one of the surviving guards that had come up from Adelar with them. The other two were locals, Jakob and Viktor. Both had come from Lydon’s small force of soldiers, but Rodan’s words seemed appropriate in their case. Despite their long leather tunics studded with iron rivets and the iron-rimmed caps they wore they looked like most of the other men in the frontier town, hard-edged and scruffy. They carried their crossbows with obvious unease, but they had volunteered. Bredan wondered what incentives Brownwell had offered.

“We’re all here because we have a duty,” Bredan said, loudly enough that everyone could hear. “If we don’t stop that thing it will keep coming until it’s dead or Wildrush is destroyed. Better to face it out here where nobody else can get hurt, than there.”

“Indeed,” Quellan said.

Rodan gave Bredan a long look. “A wise truth,” he said.

“Damn straight,” Glori said. “And this is too great a story to pass up. A heroic band of heroes, setting out from a town under siege to hunt down a monster from legends. I can assure you that each of you will get your own stanza in the ballad I will write of our deeds this day.”

She directed her comments at the three soldiers, and managed to draw a few nervous laughs out of them.

“Come on,” Rodan said. “We shouldn’t linger here. It will take a hard pace to reach the High Hollows by nightfall.”

The ranger proved true to his word, forcing them to a grueling pace that nevertheless accomplished only slow progress over the difficult terrain. They paused for a brief rest at midday, deep within the cover of a dense copse of ancient trees, but they’d barely finished their cold meal before Rodan was chivvying them forward again. They had brought enough food for a couple of days, and there were plenty of streams where they could fill their water bottles, but none of them wanted to be night to catch them anywhere near the chimera’s lair.

As the day crept on the tree cover began to thin, and finally they emerged at the base of a long, rocky rise. Formations of exposed granite jutted from the steep slope, fashioned into odd shapes by centuries of wind and water. Occasionally one of those features had been shaped into a natural arch, some of them large enough for a wagon and full team to ride through without difficulty. They could just make out the dark mouths of caves up near the summit, where the ascent culminated at the base of fifty-foot cliffs that ringed the area. The protruding rocks and natural curves of the terrain left enough hiding places to conceal a hundred chimeras.

“We’re getting close,” Rodan said quietly. The warning was unnecessary, Bredan thought. He could feel a sense of wrongness here, like when you struck a piece of bad iron in the forge.

The ranger led them forward again, weaving a path between the various rock formations, extracting every bit of cover from the scattered patches of growth that dotted the hillside. The others followed him in single-file, duplicating his steps as best they could.

They had barely covered fifty paces when a loud roar shattered the afternoon quiet. Birds scattered in the trees behind them, the furious rustle of their wings fading as they fled the scene. The companions all froze for a heartbeat, then reached for their weapons. Viktor cursed as the bolt dropped from its groove in his bow, the steel head clinking softly as it landed in the rocks. Kosk shot him a withering look. Bredan started to take a halting step, looking for cover, but froze as Rodan held up a hand in warning. The ranger remained utterly still, his eyes fixed on the summit ahead.

They waited as the seconds crept on. Nothing stirred, no shifting shadows, no flash of wings. Finally, Rodan lowered his hand. “Keep moving,” he said.

“At least we know it’s home,” Glori said. “Would be a big waste of time if we came all this way to visit for nothing.”

Bredan didn’t respond, focusing on placing his feet in places where they wouldn’t cause any loose rocks to clatter free. To his ears the soft scrapes of their boots on the stony ground seemed painfully loud. He wondered how well chimeras could hear, given that they had three sets of ears. He should have asked Quellan before they left. He should have asked more questions about their weaknesses, if they even had any.

Realizing that he was getting dangerously close to panic, he tried to focus on the breathing exercises that his uncle had taught him.

Rodan didn’t stop until they reached the shelter of one of the larger rock formations. This one was the size of a crofter’s cottage, with a fringe around the top where a few particularly stubborn weeds had found tiny cracks to sprout in. It gave the stone the vague look of an old man who was nearly bald.

The ranger paused in the shadow of the huge rock, gesturing for the others to gather behind him. He waited until they were all close enough to hear him at a whisper before he spoke. “We’ll take a moment here. Catch your breath, gather yourselves. From here on up there isn’t much cover.”

“You’ve been here before, then?” Glori asked.

“Aye. Though never hunting something like this.” He gave a wry look then crept slowly forward to scout around the edge of the boulder.

Quellan tapped Glori on the shoulder. As she turned to look at him, he leaned in close while he dug something out of his pouch. “I’d like you to take this,” he said.

She looked down and saw that he’d produced a ring, a plain band of silver. No, she amended as she studied it more closely, it was platinum, even that simple circle likely worth as much as her shirt of mail.

“Are you asking me to become betrothed to you?” she asked.

Quellan’s mouth dropped open and he nearly dropped the ring. The half-orc could not blush, but it was certainly easy to embarrass him, she thought. “No, nothing like… that is, I… It’s a magical focus,” he said, recovering enough to finish his thought. “It will help protect you from harm.”

She took the ring and held it up to look at it carefully. It’s wasn’t completely plain as she’d first thought; there were faint, spidery runes etched into the metal. She could not read them; divine magic did not function the way her own spells worked. “Maybe you should give it to one of the warriors,” she said.

“I would feel better if you wore it,” he said.

“Okay,” she said. She took off the glove on her right hand and slid the ring onto her middle finger. It fit perfectly. “Do I have to do anything…”

“Just stay close to me. Within fifty or sixty feet. The spell will last for an hour.” He reached out and touched the ring, and she felt a slight jolt, nothing painful, just a brief sensation that faded quickly. “Watch yourself out there,” she said. She knew that he would be right in the thick of the fight, running to help anyone injured in the battle. Her own role was more of a supporting one, though she had her bow in addition to her magic. Even with all of the training she’d done with Bredan, she doubted that she would have much success against a foe like the chimera with her sword.

Rodan returned and waved them forward. Before they stepped out from the shadow of the boulder he turned and met their eyes once more. “Remember from this point on there is no retreat. If you run, that thing will catch you.”

“We won’t run, archer,” Kosk said. “Just find where it’s hiding, and we’ll do the rest.”

“Perhaps some of us could linger here, in cover,” Quellan suggested. He nodded toward the three soldiers. “Wait for the others to flush the beast out.”

Rodan considered a moment and nodded. “We should not cluster together too closely in any case,” he said. “Remember, the chimera breathes fire. But don’t get too separated, we don’t want to be picked off one by one, and there’s no telling from which direction the creature may strike.”

“We’ll follow your lead,” Glori said. “This is your area of expertise.”

“At least until the fighting starts,” Kosk said.

“Right,” Rodan said. “Let’s be about it, then.”

The ranger led them back up the slope. After just a few minutes in the shade of the boulder the bright afternoon sunlight seemed blinding to Bredan’s eyes. He had his crossbow, a bolt loaded and ready to fire, though he hadn’t had much luck with it thus far. But he’d only get to use his sword if the monster chose to face them on the ground.

He had only completed maybe twenty steps since emerging from the shadow of the boulder when he felt something. It was that premonition of dread, but sharper now, a sudden twisting in his gut that had him turning slowly around. His eyes drifted up, to the top of the boulder…

The descriptions from the townsfolk and Quellan’s accounts from his book could never have done this thing justice. It was huge, its body oversized to accommodate the three heads that sprouted from its torso. Its wings were half-folded across its back, but that hinted at a wingspan that likely could have enveloped even the considerable mass of the boulder upon which it perched. Bredan could see the way its claws bit into the stone as it shifted forward.

But worst of all were the heads. They were as described: a goat, a lion, and worst of all the dragon, its scales glistening in the bright sunlight. There was an intelligence in each of those sets of eyes as they met Bredan’s, savoring his terror.

He tried to shout a warning, but only a terrible, feral sound escaped his lips. That was enough to alert his companions, who turned as one to face the beast. One of the Wildrush soldiers screamed.

Those screams were abruptly ended as the dragon head gaped wide and unleashed a gout of fire upon the men of the rear guard, incinerating all three of them. Even as they collapsed, burning, the lion head opened wide and issued a terrible roar of challenge that echoed off of the surrounding cliffs.

Yikes! A classic weekend cliffhanger for post #100 - thanks Lazybones!

You're welcome! I love those Friday cliffhangers as much as you guys do. I was rereading the Rappan Athuk thread last weekend, and found myself caught up in the story (and the many comments from readers) once again.

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Chapter 101

The chimera fell into a crouch and Bredan tensed, anticipating a leap down from the boulder to finish what it had begun by killing the three soldiers. But when the creature sprang forward it spread its huge wings, launching it up into the air. The wings unleashed a windstorm beneath it, filling Bredan’s face with dust and smoke from the conflagration it had just unleashed.

But as the monster passed overhead he saw that his companions were already attacking. Arrows flew up to meet it, and there was even a tiny flash that had to be one of Kosk’s knives. He couldn’t tell if any of the attacks hit, but they reminded him that he held a weapon of his own and that he wasn’t using it. Shaking his head to clear it of the blinding grit, he raised his crossbow to his shoulder and fired. The shot flew embarrassingly wide, but he ignored the failure and reached for the weapon’s cocking hook.

His haste appeared to be unnecessary; the chimera was already a hundred paces away and gaining altitude. But as the survivors of its first assault watched it spread its wings wide and began to bank hard to the left, passing close to the cliffs before turning back toward them.

“It’s coming back!” Glori yelled, just in case any of them weren’t watching.

“Spread out!” Rodan said. “Take cover!”

Bredan looked around, but there was no cover to be had; none of the rocks nearby rose higher than his shin, and the massive boulder behind him was too far to reach before the chimera’s return. Resolving that this time he wouldn’t cower, he quickly cocked his bow. Setting a fresh bolt into its groove, he looked up to see the chimera approaching fast; it looked like it was coming right for him. All three of its jaws opened wide, but it was the dragon’s that he focused on. Was that a glow he saw forming within that terrible maw?

The lion’s head roared again, and he again he raised his crossbow. This time he took more care in aiming, but even as he pulled the trigger the creature jerked suddenly to the side. He cursed as the bolt flew through the space it would have been had it not moved, but he just had time to see an arrow jutting from its side before the dragon head turned and unleashed another gout of flame.

He tried to dive to the side, but the seeking fire found him. Searing heat scorched the left side of his face, and he thought he could feel the flesh crinkling against that assault. He was dimly aware of the creature’s passage as it flashed overhead, and then it was gone.

In an instant someone was at his side. “Bredan! Are you all right?”

It was Glori, already reaching for her lyre to summon her magic. While she’d proven that she did not need the silver instrument to cast spells, it still helped her to focus her power. Bredan felt a sweeping relief as the pain of his burns suddenly eased. He resisted the urge to reach up and touch the side of his face that had gotten scorched. Instead he staggered to his feet. Glori’s clothes were a bit singed as well, suggesting that she’d been caught in the chimera’s breath attack as well.

He wasn’t the only one to notice. “Are you both all right?” Quellan yelled at them. The others had followed Rodan’s command and spread out at the creature’s approach, but the cleric started tentatively forward in case they needed additional healing.

“I’m fine,” Bredan said to Glori, and she shouted back, “We’re both all right!”

“It’s coming around again!” Kosk warned, drawing their attention back to the sky.

The chimera’s dive had taken it down the length of the slope it had taken them such difficulty to climb earlier. It had swung out over the forest, just clearing the tops of the tallest trees, and was once more swinging around back toward them. It seemed to be taking its time. Maybe it did not consider them a threat, Bredan thought. Then again, thus far they had not done much to prove it wrong.

“Get ready!” Rodan shouted. The ranger had not been idle, seeking out the cover of one of the other rock formations that littered the area, a stone pillar as thick around as a syrewood tree. Prodding Glori in front of him, Bredan grabbed his crossbow and ran toward the huge boulder where the creature had originally appeared. He didn’t bother trying to reload the weapon, instead focusing on covering ground quickly.

The chimera was picking up speed as well, dipping into another diving attack. Glori paused to shoot her bow, and Bredan cursed, thinking that she wouldn’t reach the protection of the boulder before it could breathe fire again. If her arrow hit, it didn’t seem to faze the creature at all.

But then the creature jerked up again, and Bredan could see an arrow sticking out from the creature’s goat head, the shaft embedded in its neck right behind the jaw. All three heads let out a terrible sound, then the chimera swept around to the right. Bredan could see at once where it was going. Rodan tried to dart back into cover, reaching for another arrow as he did so, but the chimera merely altered its angle of approach, holding its breath until it had veered around the obstacle.

Then it breathed.

There was nowhere for the ranger to go. The flames enveloped him, sweeping around the stone pillar. Bredan felt a cold feeling clutch his gut as the chimera shot past, leaving just a swirling haze of black smoke and burning brush in its wake.

Quellan started running toward the pillar, though Bredan could not see how the ranger could have survived that direct blast. But before he could decide what to do he saw that the chimera had changed course again; instead of continuing in another broad loop over the cliffs it had banked into a tight curve that had it standing up almost straight upon one wingtip before it turned back toward them. This time its dive was steeper, its intent clear as it swept down toward them.

Bredan reached for his sword as Kosk yelled, “Here it comes!”

Chapter 102

Once more the chimera came tearing down out of the sky, but this time Bredan could sense that it was done with tormenting them, that this time it was going to stick around until they were all dead.

He was about to run toward it when he felt a presence at his shoulder. Glori’s touch was light, but he felt a familiar sensation of power and potency as her magic flowed into him. “Stand fast,” she said.

There was no time even to thank her for the intervention. He drew his sword as he ran forward, but he saw he would not reach it before it landed, near where Quellan and Kosk were standing further up the slope. The cleric held his ground, presenting his holy symbol to the monstrous beast. There was a familiar flash of golden light, and for a moment a beam of radiant energy seemed to connect the half-orc and his foe. The guiding bolt surrounded the chimera with a limning glow, but that was not enough to get it to change its course.

Even as Quellan reached for his mace the creature landed a few paces short of him and charged forward. It lowered its goat head as its momentum carried it into the cleric with the force of a battering ram. Quellan was lifted off his feet and flung flying back into the rocks. He bounced hard and flipped over before coming to a shuddering halt a good ten paces back from where he had started.

The chimera did not get a chance to exploit its advantage as Kosk came barreling into it from the flank. The dragon head swiveled on its longer neck to face him, but he smacked it hard with his staff, knocking it back. He followed that up with a kick that smashed into the chimera’s knee. Bredan had seen that blow crumple joints, but it barely seemed to faze the monster. It reared up and lunged at the monk. Kosk tried to dodge, but the lion head’s jaws snapped down onto his shoulder, yanking him up into the air. Even held he tried to punch at the lion’s eyes, but the chimera flung him into the air right in front of its claws. Kosk twisted in mid-air but could not avoid both sets of claws. Even from ten steps away Bredan could see the bright droplets of blood that flashed in the air from the grievous wounds it inflicted.

As the dwarf fell to the ground Bredan shouted a cry to draw the chimera’s attention away from his friends. The dragon head turned toward him, and for a moment he felt a terror that it would unleash another blast of fire upon him. But instead all three heads focused on him, and the lion roared another challenge as it reared back and then sprang forward to attack.

Bredan’s uncle had trained him to fight with all sorts of weapons and against all kinds of foes, but nothing could have prepared him for this. But even so he stood his ground, and at the last moment he ducked low and darted to the side, avoiding the chimera’s rush. He stabbed blindly with his sword; he felt the jolt of impact shoot through his arms and it was all he could do to keep his grip on the weapon.

The chimera recovered quickly and came at him again. Gods, the thing was fast. If he had hurt it the wound hadn’t slowed it down, and he stumbled back as first the dragon head and then the goat head snapped at him, the former trying to bite, the latter trying to pound him with its horns. He pivoted to face the lion before he realized his mistake. Too late he stumbled back, too late to avoid the claws that tore into his legs. His long coat of mail kept him from being shredded, but he still felt the gashes that the sharp claws tore into his flesh.

The chimera followed him as he gave ground, knowing that one misstep on the uneven ground would end it for him. But even if he remained upright, he knew there was no way he could withstand another assault like that. The creature was just too powerful, and even with Glori’s heroism spell bolstering him there was only so much damage his much smaller body could absorb.

But even as those thoughts flashed through his mind, Bredan detected movement out of the corner of his eye. To the creature’s left he saw Quellan and Kosk, both bloody but moving back toward the fight. That was impressive but not unexpected given what he knew of both men. But to his surprise he saw movement on the far side of the creature as well. He only barely caught himself before making a telltale shift that would have warned the creature. He already knew that its three heads gave it very sharp senses.

Have to keep it busy, he thought.

So instead of continuing to retreat, he attacked. The battle cry he made was hardly more coherent than the creature’s roar, but it surely got its attention. It was clearly wary of his sword; now that he was facing it he could see a deep gash in its chest where his blind thrust earlier had scored. He targeted the dragon head, considering it the greatest threat, but as he lunged the chimera reared up and batted his sword away with one massive paw. Bredan stumbled to the side, clearly knocked off-balance by the maneuver. The creature immediately surged forward to take advantage. Bredan’s lips twisted into a slight smile.

“Got you,” he said.

Twisting his body, sliding back the leg he’d not so carelessly placed when he’d fallen, he brought the sharp point of his sword up to meet the chimera’s rush. The creature, caught by surprise, tried to shift its momentum but still impaled itself on the steel shaft. Bredan could feel that it wasn’t a killing blow, but the monster couldn’t shake off that deep wound so easily. But while his stratagem had been successful, it had left him well within the chimera’s reach. Another claw struck him, and he felt a crack in his forearm as the bone snapped. Then his vision was filled with the sight of the creature’s goat head driving down to meet his.

The next thing he knew he was on his back, dazed. He somehow managed to bring his eyes back into focus, but he almost wished he hadn’t. The chimera was still there, still alive and fighting, all three heads still facing him.

Oh, well, he thought.

But when he blinked and looked again, he saw that monster was having its own troubles. The goat head that had just knocked him down was hanging at an odd angle. A moment later saw that it wasn’t his own thick skull that had broken it, but Quellan’s mace. The half-orc pressed forward as Kosk appeared in his wake. The reason why the chimera hadn’t been able to turn to face the pair became evident as Bredan saw that the dwarf had repeated his trick on the creature’s other knee, leaving both of its front limbs damaged and unable to react as swiftly as it had.

Still it tried to turn, flapping its wings in an attempt to compensate for the damage done to its legs. But as it rose up Bredan saw another face he hadn’t expected to see. It was Rodan. The ranger looked a mess, his cloak and armor a blackened ruin, his exposed flesh almost as dark where the chimera’s fiery breath had seared it. But he was still fighting, and he’d fitted a new string to his bow that let out a sharp twang as he fired an arrow directly into the creature’s back. He must have hit something important, for the chimera was suddenly convulsed by a titanic spasm. It reared up again, but this time there was no fury in its assault, only an instinctive response to pain. Bredan felt a moment’s horror that its wild struggles would crush him, but at the last instant it toppled over the other way, almost knocking over Quellan before its chaotic movements came to a halt.

Bredan tried to say something, but as soon as he opened his mouth a wave of pain surged through his body. He was barely aware of someone calling out his name before blissful unconsciousness swallowed him up and carried him away.

Chapter 103

Bredan dug in the ground with his dagger, still in its scabbard to protect the blade from rocks. They’d had to retreat all the way to the base of the rise, almost to the edge of the forest, to find enough soil to dig proper graves, but even there it seemed that the ground consisted of rocks more than dirt.

His back hurt and his head still spun a little bit with every motion, but he didn’t complain. When he thought of the punishment his body had suffered he had only to glance over at the three corpses covered in what was left of their own cloaks. The cloaks weren’t enough to hide the charred remains underneath, even if he couldn’t smell the sharp stink of roasted flesh.

Quellan had already treated the survivors of the fight with his prayer of healing, and Glori had bolstered that with cure wounds spells, but they were still not one hundred percent restored. They’d all agreed however, to keep their limited supply of healing potions in reserve. There were still dangers in this part of the valley, and they were not going to be able to make it back to Wildrush before nightfall.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Glori came over to him. She had offered to dig the graves while he kept watch, but he’d said he was all right. “I’m okay,” he said before she could ask again. She nodded, taking a seat on an exposed rock close enough that she could talk to him without the others overhearing. Quellan’s hole was already twice as big as Bredan’s, and Kosk was hard at work on the third and final grave.

“In the fight against the chimera,” she said, not taking her eyes off the forest as she spoke. “That last part especially, when it came at you. Did you try… you know?”

Bredan considered. “To be honest, it didn’t even occur to me. Maybe it was just a one-time thing.”

“Well, your sword certainly worked well enough,” she said. She turned at the scraping sounds of someone coming down the slope.

It was Rodan, returning from his scouting of the chimera’s lair. While it was unlikely that the creature had a mate or offspring, they weren’t going to take any chances. The ranger was dragging something behind him, and as he got closer they could see that it was the severed dragon head of the chimera.

“You took a trophy?” Glori asked.

“It’s proof,” Kosk said as he stepped from his hole. The dwarf had suggested that they build cairns for their fallen, but he hadn’t objected strenuously when Quellan had insisted on proper graves. “The locals will be reassured if they can see hard evidence that the monster is dead.”

Rodan nodded in acknowledgement of the dwarf’s comment. “Night approaches swiftly,” he said. “I know a place where we can find shelter. It’s not far from here.”

“This won’t take much longer,” Quellan said.

Rodan put down his burden and went over to help Bredan. But before they could resume work on the graves Kosk said, “You fought well against that creature. You seemed to know what you were doing.”

Rodan turned to look at him. “I have some experience fighting monstrosities,” he said.

“You sound like you were surprised,” Bredan said to the dwarf. “Governor Brownwell told us that he knew his business.”

Kosk rubbed his hands together to remove some of the dirt caking them. “You know, when that thing breathed on you, I thought you were as dead as these brave fools here. I certainly didn’t expect you to come back to the fight.”

Rodan didn’t move. The others had all stopped working, and were looking at the ranger intently. Finally he sighed and opened the collar of his coat. The garment was heavily singed, and his skin was still dirty with char, but the fading light of the day flashed on a chain of silver links that supported a pendant studded with pale blue stones. “I have a magic amulet,” he said reluctantly. “I have some resistance to fire.”

Kosk spat on his hands then hopped back down into his half-finished hole. “It might have been nice to share that little detail with us before the fight,” he said.

“I can understand your reticence,” Glori said. “We only just met a day ago, after all. But we can trust each other now, right?”

“That’s right,” Quellan said. “We proved we could rely on each other when it counted. We defeated a terrible adversary, though at great cost.”

“Have you any more questions for me, master dwarf?” the ranger asked.

“If I do, I’ll let you know.”

They finished the graves in silence. By the time they were done, with the three dead soldiers covered with earth and rocks, the last bit of sun was just dipping below the edge of the valley. The evening breeze picked up as if taking its place, forewarning the night’s chill.

“We’d better get moving,” Glori said. “I suspect we don’t want to be wandering around out here after full dark.”

“Shelter the souls of these brave men, who died protecting others,” Quellan said. With that he bent to pick up the extra pack full of the gear they’d been able to salvage from the bodies, the little that hadn’t been destroyed by the chimera’s fiery breath. “What is this shelter you spoke of?” he asked Rodan.

“It’s an old mining camp,” the ranger said. “There are dozens of them scattered throughout the north valley, remnants of the last silver boom. Most are in pretty sorry shape, but this one has four walls and a roof.”

“At this point, I would settle for trailbread and a rock for a pillow,” Glori said. “This hero business can be quite tiring.”

“Don’t forget your proof,” Kosk said, nodding toward the dragon head.

Rodan picked it up and started toward the edge of the forest. “This way,” he said.

Happy holidays to all of my regular readers! Hope your Christmas was great!

* * *

Chapter 104

Shadows from the campfire danced on the uneven walls of their shelter. Rodan had been wrong; they only had three walls, the last having collapsed under the weight of the sagging roof. But the hut had originally been built to house a dozen miners, and there was plenty of room left for the five adventurers to make their camp.

Glori felt drowsy after the day’s travails, but she resisted the urge to crawl into her bedroll and let sleep claim her. When Quellan picked up the dishes from their late supper and headed outside to clean them, she got up and followed him out.

The night was cool, the breeze stronger here along the valley’s edge than it was deeper within the forest. Even with her darkvision she could only just make out Rodan from where he stood guard in the shadows on the far side of the camp. The ranger had eaten quickly and then gone out to keep watch. Either he truly did not appreciate company, or he was worried that something would stumble upon their camp in the night.

Quellan was over by the small stream that wound through the camp. Most of the mining camps were situated in places like this, nestled in sheltered niches in the rocks or copses of ancient trees, close to running water. Glori knew absolutely nothing about silver mining, but Majerion had told her stories about the kind of men who came to places like this. They tended to be a solitary sort, willing to eschew the benefits of civilization for a chance of finding wealth hidden away in the ground.

She went over to the cleric. Neither of them had any difficulty in the darkness, of course. She glanced over at Rodan again. With his human blood he’d be as blind in the night as Bredan, but somehow she doubted that he’d be caught off guard by anything the valley could throw at him. There was something else about him, something that she couldn’t quite pin down.

She shook her head. Rodan wasn’t why she’d come out here. Quellan looked up as she knelt beside him, careful not to slip on the muddy bank of the stream. Not that it mattered, really; they were all filthy.

“You should get some rest,” Quellan said. “It will be a long walk back to town tomorrow.”

“I didn’t want to say anything, earlier, in front of everyone,” she told him. “But I noticed something.”

He stopped washing the cookpot and their mess tins and looked at her. In the darkness his eyes were wide black pools. “Oh?”

She reached out and took hold of his shoulder. He tensed slightly as her fingers pressed at the spot where his torso met up with his neck.

“I probably wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t tried to cover up the burns,” she said. “Right where I got scorched by that breath attack.” She held up her other hand to trace the line of skin running from her left ear to her shoulder. The burns had faded, thanks to Quellan’s healing spell, but the skin was still a bit crimson, like a mild sunburn.

“I…” he began.

“Just tell me the truth,” she said. “That ring you gave me, it wasn’t just a protection spell.”

“The spell is called warding bond,” he said. “And it is a protection spell, it just…”

“It transfers some of the damage from me to you,” she finished for him. “That’s dangerous,” she said. “You could have been killed, especially if that thing had managed to come around for one more blast.”

“The spell doesn’t just share damage,” he said. “It protects both of us… it makes it less likely for you to be hurt at all. And I can take a lot of punishment.”

“Still, you should have told me. Maybe I didn’t want that responsibility, did you consider that?”

“I am sorry. But I consider it my role to protect… to protect all of you. We are a team. I meant what I said earlier, when we were talking to Rodan.”

“I know, but for there to be trust, there has to be honesty. No secrets between us.”

For a long moment he just looked at her, then he nodded. “Agreed.”

“Okay. Now that that’s settled, let’s get these dishes clean and get back inside where it’s warm and we can both get some sleep. The others will need us to dish out more healing magic in the morning.”

“What we need, the gods will provide,” he said.

* * *

The night air greeted Bredan with its chill when he ducked out through the low entry to the ruined hut. They’d hung a blanket over the doorway to keep the light and heat inside. He stood there a moment to let his eyes adjust to the near-darkness, then made his way across their camp.

Glori had told him where Rodan was, otherwise he’d never have been able to find the man. Even with that guidance he didn’t see the ranger until a shadow detached itself from a narrow gap between two boulders and stepped toward him.

“I drew the short straw,” Bredan said. “First watch.”

“You can rest,” Rodan said. “I prefer to stand watch alone.”

The man’s tone was dismissive, just short of hostile, but Bredan remained where he was. “Me, I prefer to watch with a partner,” he said. “What if I fall asleep? Or miss something? Who wants that responsibility.”

Rodan didn’t say anything, but after a moment he stepped aside. Bredan came over to the larger of the two boulders and settled his weight against it. The moon hadn’t yet risen, and the stars provided little in the way of light. There were sounds in the darkness, scattered noises against the backdrop of the omnipresent breeze, but Bredan couldn’t make any sense of them. He wagered that Rodan could, however.

“Have you been here for a long time?” Bredan asked.

There was a pause, and for a moment Bredan thought that the other man wouldn’t respond. “Some years,” the ranger finally said.

“This place, it feels like the edge of the world to me,” Bredan said.

“It’s quiet. Far away from… from the troubles of the world.”

“And yet they’ve found their way here. The war, I mean.”

“There’s always war. If not this one, then another. Wherever men gather, there is conflict.”

“So you came up here to escape that?”

“Something like that.”

“It sounds kind of lonely.”

The ranger shifted slightly. “For a time, it was what I thought I wanted.”

“And now?”

“Your friends. They fight well. You have been together long?”

“I’ve known Glori most of my life. Quellan and Kosk, not quite so long. But we’ve had a few adventures. Getting here… it was a long journey. I trust them with my life.”

“That’s a precious thing.”

“Yeah.”

They remained there in silence, but Rodan finally pushed himself up. “We should keep watch on opposite sides of the camp. Fewer blind spots.”

“Okay, sure,” Bredan said, but the ranger was already moving off. The way he moved, the night seemed to absorb him into its essence. Even knowing where he was, Bredan lost track of him before he’d taken five steps.

Pulling his cloak closer around him, he prepared himself for a boring stretch of hours ahead.

Chapter 105

Kurok waited just under the low branches of a pine tree and tried not to think about the sting of the wounds in his side. He shifted his hand to the pair of claws he wore on a throng around his neck, a trophy from the recent encounter.

While he waited, he let his thoughts drift back to the brief but bloody fight.

Vedaris had been right about the perytons; they were too intelligent to be drawn in to an obvious trap. So Kurok had headed into their territory alone. While under the dense canopy of the forest he was mostly safe, but along the southwestern edge of the valley the trees had thinned as the ground grew increasingly rocky and rugged. His scouts had reported that the entire region was a maze of gullies and ridges, with hidden canyons tucked in along the cliffs and steep ascents that concealed caves large enough to conceal his entire force and more. There hadn’t been any time for them to explore further before they had come under assault by the region’s residents.

The perytons had obviously made their lair somewhere in that craggy expanse, likely somewhere atop the cliffs where they would be well-protected from approach by a ground-dweller like himself. But that was all right; he was interested in bringing them to him.

He’d planned on drawing attention to himself with a display of magic, but that hadn’t been necessary. He’d barely emerged from the woods when he caught sight of a winged form drifting high over the cliffs. Even from a distance the odd juxtaposition of its features was instantly obvious. The thing seemed to be circling idly, not interested in him.

But as it turned out, the monsters had been playing the same game as Kurok.

The only warning he’d gotten was a sharp rush of air before two of the creatures had swept down over the treetops and dove toward him. Kurok had fired off a pair of eldritch blasts to disrupt their diving attack and then fled back toward the relative safety of the forest. He hadn’t been surprised when the last of the creatures had suddenly leapt down off a high branch and moved to block him, but it had been caught off-guard by the way he’d veered right into its path. The peryton had adjusted quickly to meet him with outstretched claws, but at the last instant Kurok had flung a blast of poison spray into its face, causing it to veer sideways. It reacted quickly, spinning in mid-air and lunging out with a claw as he ran past, but he had protected himself with the Armor of Agathys, and the jolt of cold the spell inflicted had given him time to break clear.

He ran at a full sprint, dodging closer to the trees to give him as much cover as possible and minimize the chances of an unexpected attack from above. His scouts had warned him that the creatures were quite adept at putting their antlers to good use in diving attacks, and he had to resist the urge to glance back over his shoulder as he fled. At least the rocky ground made the undergrowth thinner than it was along the valley floor, allowing him to maintain a swift pace. He knew he could not outrun them, but if he could just get a bit of a lead, then he could enter the thicker parts of the forest where the perytons’ wings would be less of an advantage.

As the moments had crept forward without an attack, he began to fear that maybe the creatures had decided he wasn’t worth the bother. But even as that thought had flashed through his head he’d heard a flapping of wings behind him and knew that at least one of the things was in pursuit.

A huge fallen tree had materialized out of the forest ahead, blocking his path. As it had fallen it had dislodged a smaller tree, which now formed a ramp of sorts up over the barrier. Kurok hadn’t hesitated, springing up onto the trunk and running up its length before leaping out over the obstacle. It wasn’t much of a jump, maybe six feet from the top of the old tree to the spongy forest loam below.

But even as he’d leapt out into the open air a rush of air warned him that his adversaries had anticipated his move. There was no way to dodge, no way to evade the figure that swept low through the trees before it thrust its antlers directly into Kurok’s path. The collision had been violent, tearing through the protection of the warlock’s spell even as it unleashed the last of its stored power as an icy discharge into the creature. Kurok hit the ground hard and rolled. He drew out his mace as he staggered to his feet, spinning to identify the next attack.

What he had seen hadn’t been promising. The peryton that had attacked him had recovered and perched atop the fallen log, watching him. A flutter of wings announced the arrival of the others, dropping from above to land on branches all around him. For a moment all four of them just watched him, enjoying the savor of the moment before the kill.

Kurok just waited. He turned slowly, keeping his attention divided between all of them, but his focus was on the one that had stabbed him. Hoary frost covered its antlers where the warlord’s magic had stung it, but it would clearly take a lot more than that to stop it. It was obviously the elder of this pack, larger than the others with a hide covered with old scars. It watched him intently, waiting for him to panic.

When Kurok finally lifted a hand to unleash a few more eldritch blasts, it had let out a loud screech that had all four of the creatures diving toward him.

But instead of attacking, Kurok had summoned a globe of darkness that had filled the clearing. The perytons screeched either in anger or frustration, their wings flapping madly as they sought their prey while trying to avoid colliding with each other. There was a loud rush as the alpha creature swooped through the space where Kurok had been standing as he’d unleashed his spell, but this time the antlers found only empty air.

As it realized its mistake the peryton leader spread its wings and tried to swoop back up into the air, but before it could escape Kurok slammed his mace into its flank. The creature let out a violent shriek and turned on him, driving him back. The darkness, bound to his gauntlet, followed him, but the perytons refused to give up their prey. They swarmed around him, slashing at the darkness in an effort to find him. But with his invocation of Devil’s Sight he could see where they could not, and he was able to avoid their blind rush. Dropping low, he rolled to the side and darted toward the cover of the fallen log.

He’d almost made it when he stepped on a twig, the sound of it snapping clearly audible even over the violent flapping of the perytons’ wings. Clearly they’d heard it too, for they turned as one and rushed at him together. They spread out, and at first Kurok thought they were just trying to avoid collisions, but after a moment he recognized their tactic for what it was. And as he backed up against the solidity of the fallen tree he knew it had succeeded.

“Clever,” he said.

The perytons hesitated, perhaps waiting for him to reveal himself again with an attack, but instead of attacking, Kurok raised his hand and dismissed the darkness.

The perytons were again caught off guard by the sudden return of light. They were even more surprised by the worgs with goblin riders that formed a second circle around the clearing. About half of the goblins had bows with readied arrows, while the others were carrying crude buckets crafted out of woven branches, leaves, and pine needles.

Furious at being tricked, the peryton alpha screeched and dove at Kurok. But the warlock was ready for it, and greeted its charge with a pair of eldritch blasts that tore into its body. The peryton, staggered by the impacts, slammed into the rotting tree. Kurok was already ducking under one of the protruding branches. He’d done his part, and had no interest in risking further injury in the melee.

The other perytons apparently had the same idea. Their wings pounded as they sought to escape the trap, but the goblins were already launching their attacks. Several arrows struck home, and as the fearsome creatures rose into the air the ones with the buckets launched their burdens at them. The crude containers burst on impact, spreading their cargo of pine tar onto the creatures’ wings and torsos. The perytons squawked but could not escape, their struggles only causing the sticky mess to spread further.

Kurok cleared the branch and was about to circle around to rejoin Usk when a sudden flutter of wings drew his attention back around. It was the peryton alpha. The creature was clearly suffering, its head scorched where the warlock’s blasts had struck, one eye reduced to a bloody mess. But the other eye burned with a furious hatred as it launched itself at its foe.

A hint of motion ahead drew Kurok back into the present. The stand of trees where he’d taken cover overlooked a rocky gully where a narrow stream wound back and forth. The movement resolved into a goblin scout who emerged from the cover of the rocks just long enough to wave an all-clear signal. Kurok stepped from the cover of the pine tree and started down the slope.

The peryton alpha had been a worthy foe. Kurok’s side still burned where it final gore attack had punched into him, skewering a lung. Fortunately, he’d ordered Usk to bring one of his shamans with him. He still had a healing potion left, but was keeping it in reserve for a time when he didn’t have that outside help to draw upon.

As he made his way down toward the stream other goblins emerged out from the trees around them, most of them accompanied by their worgs. Kurok made a mental note to work on his stealth skills; the goblins were far more adept at it than he. The scout had disappeared near a bend in the stream where the water tumbled down over a small cascade of boulders.

When he reached the stream he found Usk and several of his riders waiting. “How far?” Kurok asked.

“Not far,” the goblin said. He watched the hobgoblin, waiting for orders.

Kurok hesitated. He was not the only one to have taken wounds in the brief but bloody fight with the perytons, and his magic was depleted. But on the other hand, the sense of urgency that he’d shared with Vedaros had not been feigned; time could very well be of the essence here.

“Very well,” he said. “Lead on.”

They crossed the stream a hundred paces above the waterfall and continued south, entering a shallow defile flanked by weed-encrusted walls. The cliffs that ringed the valley rose up ahead of them, tantalizingly close, but Kurok already knew that distances were misleading in this place.

But in this case, the goblin chief’s words proved true. They’d gone less than a thousand paces from the stream when the sides of the defile opened to reveal a broad ravine. Directly ahead of them rose a massive mound of stone with sheer sides at least twenty paces high. In the front of that tor there was a breach, a deep cleft flanked by boulders twice the size of a warleader’s tent. Those boulders rose up like pillars warding the opening, but they looked to be entirely natural. From their current vantage Kurok thought he could see something inside the cleft, but he could not be certain. There were a few worg riders scattered around the place, keeping an eye out.

Once the perytons had been defeated, it had not taken Usk’s scouts long to find this place. In a way Kurok had expected it to be here, despite the vagueness of Zorek’s instructions. It somehow felt right. He could finish his quest right now, and be gone from here before the humans of the Silverpeak Valley even knew he was there.

Usk was watching him closely. The rest of his force was strung out behind them. They’d left only a small force back at their camp for security, with a few other scouts conducting patrols through the forest to make sure that there weren’t any more surprises for them. That left eleven goblins and their mounts, including the scouts keeping watch around the perimeter of the ravine.

They made their way forward. As they drew closer to the huge mound Kurok could see that there was definitely something inside the cleft. It looked like an entry of some sort, framed by blocks of stone too regular in their lines to be natural. It had the look of a tomb, or one of the underground dwellings that some giants favored. The dark opening certainly looked tall enough for a giant, though it was narrow, a tall slit filled with deep shadow.

“Did any of your scouts go inside?” Kurok asked.

“No, Great One,” Usk replied. “If there are any restless spirits in this place, we knew it would take your powers to deal with them.”

Lucky me, the warlock thought, though he did not blame the goblin for his caution.

“Send in a scout,” Kurok said.

There was a slight stir from the goblins, but Usk just nodded and gestured to one of his warriors. The goblin slid down off his worg, and after a brief hesitation he picked up his bow and walked down into the ravine toward the cleft.

Even with all the rocks and clutter it didn’t take the scout long to reach his destination. He used the rock pillars for cover, slowly approaching the gap in the solidity of the mound. He took his time, scanning the crevice for traps or any other dangers. Kurok couldn’t blame him his caution, but he had to fight off a tingle of impatience.

Finally the goblin moved into the cleft. The entry was narrow, maybe five paces across, but then it widened somewhat before it ended at the shadowed doorway. The goblin kept scanning his surroundings as he moved deeper. In just a few moments he would be out of the line-of-sight of the watchers above, and Usk raised his hand as if to issue an order for his warriors to relocate to deeper in the ravine.

But he never got a chance to give that command. All Kurok saw was a vague blur; one moment the goblin was there and the next he was not. There was a heavy sound, a deep thump, then silence returned. The goblins all shared a look before turning to Kurok, who continued to stare at the cleft. The scout’s worg let out a plaintive sound, but was silenced by a sharp bark from Usk.

Finally Kurok said, “Let’s go.” Without checking to see if the goblins would obey he started down the slope into the ravine. After another moment, Usk and his warriors followed.

Kurok was acutely aware of the absence of his higher-order magic as he drew closer to the cleft. Unlike the spells cast by a sorcerer like Vedaros, his magic drew from his connection to the Veiled One. Minor workings like his eldritch blasts he could sustain for lengths of time, but his more potent powers were extremely taxing for the caster and could only be managed a couple of times each day. There would be no more mystic armor or supernatural darkness until he had a chance to rest.

He didn’t see the goblin scout until he was almost within the shadow of the stone pillars. The creature’s carcass lay in a smashed heap along one side of the cleft, just a few paces from the dark opening. A splatter of blood showed on the rocks where he’d obviously impacted at a high velocity. There was no sign of an attacker or a trap mechanism.

Kurok waited until the goblins caught up to him. “Be ready,” he said, then he stepped forward into the cleft.

He hadn’t realized how warming the sun’s rays had been until he was in the shade of the narrow opening. He could see now that the interior of the cleft widened to a rough circle about fifteen paces across. The dark slot opposite him appeared to lead to a worked passage that penetrated straight into the interior of the mound; even his darkvision could make out no distinguishing features or other significant details. More of the huge boulders stood against the cliff walls around him, giving the place the air of a great hall, if on a smaller scale. High above the sky was just a narrow wedge of blue, the late afternoon sunlight penetrating barely a quarter of the way down to where he stood.

He looked around much as the goblin had, though he saw nothing unusual. But he could feel the presence of something, a tension that sent a prickling sensation up the length of his spine.

Nothing to be done but spring the trap, he thought.

He stepped forward boldly into the small canyon. Hesitation would not be useful here, not with his goblins already hanging on the edge of panic. He fixed his eyes forward, toward the dark tunnel that was his goal.

A rumble filled the canyon. A goblin shouted a warning, but Kurok was already darting forward. Something heavy sliced through the air, coming so close to his head that he felt the wind of its passage on his neck. There was a deafening slam, then a vibration that shook the ground under his feet.

Kurok spun to see that one of the boulders had come alive.

As it rose up he could see that the stone formation had grown arms and legs, giving it a vaguely humanoid appearance. But its “face” was just a blank slab of stone, lacking eyes or ears or any other sensory apparatus.

Clearly it didn’t need them, as it turned toward him.

Chapter 106

Kurok lifted his hands and fired a pair of eldritch blasts into the elemental creature. Both hit, burrowing into the entity’s form and scattering bits of stone everywhere, but from the size of the thing it might have been able to absorb a dozen such impacts before it began to be seriously discomfited.

Fortunately for the warlock his allies were quick to join the fight. Goblins and worgs poured into the canyon, the riders launching their weapons while their beasts spread out to flank the entity. Spears and arrows shattered on its body, doing little or no damage as far as Kurok could see. As the creature shifted to face them another worg, the one whose rider lay splattered on the stone nearby, leapt up and snapped its jaws on its forearm. Those jaws had the strength to bend iron plates, but the elemental just swept its arm around and slammed its attacker hard against the canyon wall behind it. Kurok could hear the sound of bones snapping, but the worg refused to release its grip.

More riders entered the canyon, spreading out to circle those already engaged. But even as they moved to join the fight a second boulder stirred, rising up out of the ground. As it surged forward it struck a worg in the side with its knee. The impact knocked both beast and rider flying, the latter sliding to a stop almost back at the entry. Several of the goblins turned to face this new threat, including Usk, who jabbed it with his spear before it could get its arms around to attack. The impact jolted a few bits of stone free, but barely scratched the creature.

The ferocity of his allies’ assault had left Kurok alone for a moment, but the warlock hesitated. He’d initially assumed that the boulder-creatures were elementals, but he sensed no intelligence in them. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else here, something watching.

The goblins continued to harry both of the creatures, firing arrows or thrusting with spears even as their mounts snapped at their legs in an effort to unbalance them. But the things were as unshakable as the boulders they had replaced, and when they met the worgs’ teeth were as likely to give way as the entities’ substance. It looked like they could be hurt, but at the rate they were going it might take hours to bring them down.

That was time they clearly didn’t have. Even as Kurok studied their foes the first one slammed the worg it had hurt to the ground. Before the injured beast could get away it stomped on it with one huge foot, ending its struggles. On the opposite side of the canyon the second entity smacked a goblin right off the back of its mount. The goblin went flying high into the air before colliding against the canyon wall. The warrior hung there for a moment before falling to the ground in a limp heap.

Kurok turned to the tunnel mouth behind him. “Go for the shrine!” he shouted.

He started in that direction, but the worgs were faster. Most of them could not disengage immediately, but two that still had their riders broke from the pack and ran all-out for the apparent safety of the interior passage. Kurok let them pass him, still watching the canyon walls.

Thus he was not surprised when a third boulder rose up just to the right of the passage mouth and lunged to block them. This one was different than the others; it had much the same form, but a pair of glowing yellow slits above a dark gap provided the basic outlines of a face. The controlling intelligence that Kurok hadn’t seen in the animated boulders was present in those alien features, even if it hadn’t been clear in the way it had cleverly set up this ambush.

The first worg and its rider could not react in time to avoid the creature’s attack. Its arm swept into the beast’s shoulder, knocking it roughly to the side. It remained upright, its rider clinging desperately to its back.

The other pair veered to the left, slipping past the rock-creature. It spun around to try and block them, but the worg, its speed bolstered by its panic, shot past before the thing could launch another attack. The goblin crouched low over its mount’s neck as it shot into the dark opening of the passage.

There was another loud rumble, but the goblin barely had a chance to lift his head before a massive slab of stone dropped down from above, crushing both mount and rider instantly.

Even expecting something like that, Kurok couldn’t help but flinch back at the intensity of the trap. As the rock-creature turned back to face him, he thought he saw something in its eyes, a silent challenge.

Your move, he imagined it saying.

Kurok had mastered fear, but he was not suicidal.

“Fall back!” he yelled. The goblins needed little urging; they were already tugging on the leather throngs they used to guide their mounts even before Usk could echo his order. Even as they fled the animated boulders continued to kill; one injured goblin was crushed as it crawled toward the opening of the cleft. Kurok narrowly avoided a riderless worg that shot past him, but then he was through the gap and clear. He didn’t look back until he was a full fifty paces away, and even though there was no pursuit he did not stop running until he was all the way back to the edge of the ravine.

The survivors continued to dribble in, some of the worgs limping, others carrying two riders where one of the goblins was unable to walk or hang on unassisted. Usk and his impressive mount did not appear to be hurt, but fury burned in both sets of eyes as they regarded the blood-smeared gap in the front of the mound. That fury was not much abated as the goblin leader shifted his attention to Kurok, but he offered no comment on what had just happened.

Kurok tallied their losses: three worgs were dead, along with four goblins. Most of the survivors were wounded, some seriously. Usk’s shamans would be busy when they got back to the camp.

Kurok turned back to the cleft in the mound. There was no sign of the boulder-creatures. If the elemental thing that controlled them was clever it would have situated itself in a new hiding place, awaiting their return. The passage entry was clear again, with only a bloody heap on the ground to indicate that anything had tried to enter. He had no doubt whatsoever that the trap had reset itself in anticipation of another victim.

Usk was already issuing orders, not waiting for Kurok’s command to organize his troops for the long trek back to their camp. Kurok let that stand for the moment. He stared at the deadly entrance to the shrine for a few moments longer, then turned and followed his wounded army back into the valley.

Chapter 107

The trek back to Wildrush was easier than the outbound journey, for the companions could take a more direct route and did not have to worry about remaining concealed from aerial observation. But even so the sun was past its noonday peak when they crested a rise to see thin wisps of smoke rising over the rooftops of the town. They still had a good hour or more of walking ahead of them, but just the sight of their destination eased the tension that had lingered even after their defeat of the chimera.

Rodan had cleaned the dragon head as best he could, but the thing still stank. There were times when Bredan felt like the eyes of the dragon were still watching him. Folly, but perhaps understandable.

“Uh oh, what’s that?” Glori said.

They all turned to the southeast, where a group of figures was just emerging from the woods a few hundred yards away. One look was enough to tell that these were locals, not goblins or worse, but they were clearly in some distress. There were at least two dozen in the uneven line that staggered out from the cover of the trees into the afternoon sunlight, and by the way they were moving it looked like some of them were wounded.

“The mines lay in that direction,” Rodan said, already moving toward them. “Something must have happened.”

The others hurried after him. The miners saw them coming and changed course to meet them.

As they got closer Bredan could see that whatever the miners had gone through, it had left them in a ragged state. They were a mixed group of humans and dwarves, though there was one gnome who had the largest nose that Bredan had ever seen. Their clothes, mostly consisting of durable leather and canvas, were dirty, but not dirty enough to hide the fresh bloodstains that some of them wore. He couldn’t see any obvious wounds, but several of them were limping heavily, and one of the humans was being all but carried by two of his men. Quellan quickly hurried off to help the injured.

Rodan approached one of them, a human of middle years who was almost as big as the half-orc cleric. He was all but bald, though his arms looked thick enough to snap the handle of the battered pick he carried. “What happened, Darven?” the ranger asked.

The muscled miner wiped a hand over his bare pate. “Bugs,” he said.

“Bugs?” Glori asked.

“Aye. Beetles, the size of serving platters they were. Black as pitch. Hundreds of them. Thousands.”

“They got big, nasty pincers,” one of the other miners said. “One of them snapped the big bone in Caro’s leg like it was a twig.” He pointed back at the stricken man, who was grimacing as Quellan gently tried to align the broken bone for magical healing.

“This sort of thing common up here?” Bredan asked.

“One occasionally runs into giant beetles in the forest,” Rodan said. “But not like this.”

“Where did they come from?” Kosk asked.

“They came pouring out of one of the mine shafts,” Darven said. “It wasn’t even one of the main ones we were working, though I guess that’s lucky for the rest of us. There were two men in there at the time… Henk and Elver. They didn’t make it out.”

“Were you doing anything unusual?” Kosk asked. “Blasting, machine drilling? Magic?”

Darven blinked. “Nothing like that. Just picks and hand-drills.”

“They’re all over the place,” one of the dwarves said. “Darven wasn’t exaggerating, there are tons of them.”

“That’s going to be difficult to deal with,” Bredan said.

“They’re just vermin,” Kosk said. “We need lamp oil, we can burn them out.”

“There’s casks of oil back at the works,” Darven said. “We didn’t get a chance to use it, we barely got out with our lives.”

“No one could expect you to have done more against such odds,” Rodan said.

Quellan rejoined them. Behind him Caro was testing his healed leg while the other miners watched, impressed by the cleric’s magic. “We should investigate,” ther half-orc said. “At the very least, make certain that these creatures are not a threat to the town.”

“If there’s as many as these men said, we could end up in over our heads,” Glori said.

“If this lot were able to outrun them, then we should too,” Kosk said. He turned to Rodan. “You take these men back to town, let the Governor know what’s happened, and update them on the success of our mission.” Even as he spoke some of the miners had noticed the severed head that Rodan was carrying slung across his back, and were commenting on it in excited whispers.

The ranger looked intently at the monk for a long moment before he nodded. “I will return with aid, and supplies.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

“How far is it to the mine?” Bredan asked.

“It’s about two miles,” Darven said. “The main road cuts further south through the forest, but you can’t miss the path that we took.”

“I’m guessing that the affected mine was closer to the road,” Glori said. At the shift leader’s nod she added, “That could bode ill for Wildrush.”

“All the more reason to check it out,” Quellan said. He clasped Rodan on the shoulder. “Get them to safety,” he said. “And warn the town.”

“I will. Watch yourselves,” the ranger said.

Glori strummed a martial melody on her lyre and grinned. “It’s what we do best,” she said.

As the two groups parted, the ranger and the miners heading south toward Wildrush, the four adventurers turning east into the forest, none of them spotted the shrouded figure watching them from atop another exposed rise nearby. The hidden watcher’s cloak blended in with his surroundings, the garment matching the dull colors of the surrounding rocks and dry brush so perfectly that he was almost invisible. He waited until both groups were out of sight, then he rose and quickly retreated back behind the crest. By the time he reached the base of the rise he was moving at a sprint, and he continued to accelerate until he was almost a blur, his cloak swirling around him as he vanished under the canopy of the woods.