"Run!" hissed Tip. "It can't see us, though it knows we are here."
Into the shadows of Darda Erynian they fled.
"Oh Elwydd," hissed Rynna, scrambling backwards and down the slope, Tip and one of the enshadowed Pysks scrambling down after, "it's coming into the forest and bringing the Foul Folk with it. Tipperton, we can't stand against a Gargon. Instead we've got to fetch Lark and the others and flee."
"Lark?"
"Yes. She is-"
Dreadful terror swept over them and past, and both War-rows gasped in fear as it raked by, their hearts hammering in horror. And the small shadow cried out, "Af slait! Adreem!"
Rynna grabbed Tip's arm and pulled him after. "We must follow the Fox Rider."
On into the forest they ran, the darkness-cloaked Pysk on her black-footed fox darting ahead, then pausing to let them catch up, then darting ahead again.
And somewhere behind came terror, four thousand Spawn at its back.
Gasping and wheezing, at last the two Warrows caught up with the retreating column, and onward they strode, following the others deeper into the woods.
"Well?" said Beau, dropping back to walk alongside, his face drawn tight with fear.
"It's coming into the woods," said Tip.
"Bringing what's left of the Horde with it," added Rynna.
"I thought as much," Beau groaned.
And again dread swept past them, as if the Terror used its hideous to search the forest for sign of the fleeing foe.
"Look, Ryn," said Tip, "we can't lead the Gargon to the Springwater Warrows or to the dwellings of the Hidden Ones. We can't expose them to such horror."
"The Pysks have a plan," said Farly.
"A plan?"
Farly nodded. "It seems that one of their own managed to slay a Gargon way back near the end of the First Era, or so says Phero."
"And…?" demanded Rynna.
"Phero now rides to the Eio Wa Suk to ask them to send a message far north and find out how it was done. In the meanwhile we are to keep beyond the dread Gargon's stare."
"You mean run, don't you? Just as we are doing?"
"Yes," replied Farly, "until Phero finds out how 'twas done."
At the tail of the column of fleeing allies, on they pressed through the moonshadowed forest, a bobbing lantern far ahead as Nix continued to lead the way; and tiny lights now winked alongside the file, yet whence came these blinking glows, neither Tip nor Beau could say. And still a dread raked across them now and again as the Gargon's terror swept back and forth, the monster seeking prey.
"Look," said Tip, catching his breath after one of these sweeps, "although we can't lead the Foul Folk to the Springwater Warrows, perhaps there is a place we can lure them to; if we can get far enough ahead, mayhap we can make a trap, a spiked pit or some such to slay the Gargon ourselves." As he strode, Tip looked at Rynna in the shadows cast by the half-moon sliding down the indigo vault of the western sky.
Rynna frowned and shook her head. "I can't think of a place where we could be certain that the Gargon would step into-" Of a sudden, her eyes widened, and she glanced at Farly and then back to Tip, saying. "Oh, Tip, there may be another way: if we can cause his escort of Foul Folk to flee, perhaps the Gargon itself will quit this place."
"How would we do that?" asked Tip. "How would we make the Spawn abandon the Gargon, run away altogether?"
"You said it yourself, my love: we lead them, but in this case we lead the Gargon and Foul Folk into a place the Foul Folk fear."
Farly looked at Rynna in puzzlement. "What have you in mind, commander?"
"Eio Wa Suk," answered Rynna.
"Yes!" cried Farly, hope gleaming.
Upon hearing the name again that night, Tip frowned in concentration, trying to recollect. Then his eyes widened. "Eio Wa Suk; Groaning Stones?"
"Yes, Tipperton, Groaning Stojies. There is an aggregate nearby. That's where Phero has gone."
"These are those who make the ground grumble?" asked Beau, his eyes filled with trepidation.
"Yes," replied Rynna.
"Oh my," said Beau. "I am not certain at all I want to walk among things that groan in the ground. It gives me the willies just thinking of it."
"That's what I'm counting on, Beau. -Oh, not you shrinking from walking among the stones, but that the Foul Folk dread them even more."
"Ha!" barked Farly. "They have run from the Stones in the past."
"Do not get your hopes too high," warned Rynna. "With the Gargon among them, it may not work at all."
"Speaking of the Dread," said Tipperton, "will the Gar-gon's fear not hurt the Stones?"
Rynna frowned and called one of the moving shadows to her side, and they spoke for long moments in the Fey Folk tongue. And even as they did so, a sweep of fear passed over all.
Finally, Rynna turned to Tipperton. "Rali does not think so, my love. She says the Eio Wa Suk are but partially awake and fear no thing except perhaps a great shaking of the land."
"Nevertheless…" said Tipperton, "it is a Gargon after all."
Rynna spoke again with the Fox Rider, and off darted the shadow toward the head of the column. The damman turned to the others. "Rali has gone ahead to tell Nix to strike for the aggregate and through. Then she will ride onward and speak with the Stones themselves, and if necessary we will change our plan. But for now, it's through the aggregate we will go and hope the Foul Folk will not."
Beau shivered and said, "If we must."
Ryn looked at Farly. "Farly, you go forward and warn Lady Linde what we are to do, for she and the Vanadurin must keep their horses in check should the Stones rumble as we pass among them. And tell her to relay the word for all to step softly, else the Stones will grumble."
Even as Farly darted forward, the dread of the Gargon swept over them once more, the monster leading the howling Spawn toward slaughter anew.
Among the shadows of lithic giants wended the column of horses, the half-moon low and nearly set, casting long darkness easterly. Here was an aggregate of Eio Wa Suk, a wide vale of enormous Stones, ranging from tall, standing monoliths soaring skyward, some towering upward fifty feet or more, to great boulders half-buried in the ground, squat and rotund in comparison. Huge and rough were they all, the lofty ones looming up in the pale yellow light cast by the sinking moon, the smaller ones-no less imposing- lurking in shadows below. Some of the Stones were barren and dark, others barren and light, and still others were covered with moss or vines or were splotched with dottles of lichen splayed in long runs of greenish white.
And as the column moved among these great rocks, Tip could hear the howls of the oncoming Foul Folk behind, for the entire file of Jordians and Warrows and fox-riding Pysks had slowed to let the Spawn draw nigh. And the dread of the Gargon was now locked onto the hammering hearts of those it would slay, terror coursing through the veins of horses and foxes and Harlingar and Wee Folk and Hidden Ones all, as amid massive Stones they fled.
Twisting and winding and moving apace, among lofty rocks they hastened, the Stones rumbling low at the tread of horses jarring the ground. But the Vanadurin held tightly to the reins near the bits as they trotted before their steeds, pulling the beasts after.
Down this vale of Groaning Stones fled the Free Folk, and up a long ridge out of the dell, where they came to the last of the great rough rocks.
"Go on," cried Rynna to Linde, the hindmost Jordian in line. "We will see if the plan has worked and then come running after."
And as the last of the moon fell away, Linde saluted and over the crest and downslope she went, following after the others, leaving Tip, Beau, Rynna, and two of the Fox Riders on the ridge behind.