In a timeless instant, Marrec saw the boy bloat and elongate, his boy-shape melting away to reveal a gray-white hairy apelike thing. Its twisted limbs scrabbled through the air as they unfolded, and a dozen completely black eyes set all the way around its head glared in all directions.
Gunggari, closer to Ash than anyone else, managed to throw himself into the path of the creature, but the creature that smashed into the Oslander was at least four times the mass of a man. It bowled Gunggari over, sending man and dizheri flying.
Gunggari had offered enough distraction for Marrec to react, but he was too far from the beast. Marrec had sheathed his spear, and his goddess-granted spells seemed as distant as ever. He felt an unwelcome heat behind his eyes, as if in answer to his frustration.
Elowen, bringing up her sword, hissed, “An uthraki!”
The uthraki, its path clear, focused its attention on the just-waking Ash. Its eight foot height towered over the child. Marrec’s eyes began to burn. He felt the ache form a searing circuit from the back of his head to his eyes, and…
As if reaching up to pluck a fruit from a tree, Ash touched the advancing creature. A dim flash… and where once stood the uthraki, there was nothing, save perhaps motes of dust glittering in Marrec’s lamplight.
Silence descended on the hollow, as all eyes fell on little Ash. The girl seemed oblivious to the attention. She settled back into her furs.
Marrec released his pent-up breath, and with it the pain in his head dispersed, just as quickly. His oath remained intact. He gave silent thanks to Lurue, but the girl… what powers did she yet hide? No wonder she was so important to the goddess.
“She has more than just the hands of a healer,” commented Gunggari, saying aloud what all must were thinking.
Ususi, who had woken late but in time to note Ash’s spectacular destruction of the threatening beast, said nothing, but she watched the young girl closely.
Elowen said, “It is odd that the uthraki was so intent on Ash. Usually, they attack those they’ve duped, after they’ve led their intended victim into a secluded spot.”
Marrec realized that Elowen meant that it should have been Marrec who was attacked, while he was outside the hollow. Perhaps she was even rebuking him for falling victim to such a dupe. He felt the urge to defend his choice to investigate the sound of a crying childbut instead, he quietly accepted the blame.
‹S›-
The figure stepped forward, entering the stone circle while darkness yet reigned. One of his spies had perished. The spell that linked him to the shapechanger was severed. He cared not for the welfare of the uthrakiit was little more than a beast. It had served its purpose merely in giving warning through its death. Someone approached.
Gameliel woke his thralls. There were preparations to make, rot to culture, and spells to unsheathe. He wouldn’t allow the newest, most important outpost of the Rotting Man’s empire to fall back into the idle hands of idiot druids. He glanced at the dark shape that still hung impaled on one of the great stones, smirking.
The blightlord felt the weight of the Keystone’s cord around his neck. With it, Gameliel possessed the power of the Mucklestones. There was no place the Rotting Man and his most powerful servants could not penetrate at whim.
First, he had to prepare the ambush.
CHAPTER 9
When darkness failed, they broke camp.
Marrec thought the woods were too quiet. In forests to the west, he would have been able to identify the calls of over a dozen species of birds in as many seconds. Instead one crow cawed in the distance as they set out that morning, and for the next several hours he heard nothing more.
“Is the forest usually so…” began Marrec.
“Silent?” finished Elowen. “No.” She frowned. “Even yesterday, if you recall, all seemed well. Something’s changed.”
“It’s Gameliel,” spoke Ususi from behind them. She continued, “His influence may extend beyond the Mucklestones, and we are close to the circle. I begin to feel the stone shapes in my mind.”
“If we are close, we need to be cautious,” advised Gunggari, who rode abreast of Marrec and Elowen.
“Agreed,” nodded the elf hunter. She added in a tentative tone, “I worry about Briartan.”
Marrec said nothing. If Briartan were responsible for the Mucklestones, he doubted the man had come to any good with Gameliel’s arrival, or worse, Briartan had been co-opted. He’d seen similar things in the past. They’d find out what was really going on in just a few miles.
He said, “We need a plan, of course.”
Gunggari smiled and waited.
“First, let’s hear more about this Gameliel,” said Marrec. “What should we be prepared for? What does it mean when you say he is a blightlord?”
“The blightlords serve the goddess called Talona,” said Elowen. “They are corrupt priests who revel in rot and decay. Their plagues and blights have transformed the western reaches of the Rawlinswood into a foul green hell of diseased monsters and deadly poisons. Gameliel is but one of three, that we know of. Always they seek to infect the healthy forests and lands nearby with the same sickness that is rapidly destroying the ancient Rawlinswood. Though they ultimately serve Talona, their direct master is the Rotting Man, the one who stands highest in Talona’s putrid grace.”
“What’re the other two called again?” wondered Marrec
“Anammelech and Damanda.”
All were quiet for a moment, absorbing Elowen’s words.
Marrec finally said, “Gunggari should sneak ahead and scout when we get a little closer, then report back. He’s good at that sort of thing.”
“I’m going with him,” stated Elowen. “I also know a thing or two about forest craft.”
“Great,” said Marrec. “We’ll proceed at a slower pace. Double back when you have the chance. Give a signal if you need help.”
“What signal?” wondered Elowen.
“If I can not reach my dizheri, I will yell for help,” said Gunggari.
Elowen smiled. She and Gunggari dismounted, then forged ahead, melting into the greenery.
‹g›- SSS SSS SSS SSS
They moved through the forest. Like leaves on a breeze, from the shadow of one tree to the next, Elowen and Gunggari closed on their goal.
Elowen called upon her stealthcraft, gratified to see that Gunggari knew at least as much as she. To many of her race, surreptitious forest travel came naturally. Elowen liked to keep her techniques in the forefront of her mind. She felt that by doing so, she was all the better at evading detection.
For instance, movement itself is a target indicator. The eye is drawn to movements, so a stationary target may be impossible to detect, and even a steadily but slowly moving target might go unnoticed. Quick, jerky movements are almost always seen, so her slow but silky movements from bole to trunk were deliberate. She didn’t give herself away by talking to Gunggari. Of course, she always stowed her equipment in a way that eliminated chance rattling.
Both she and the Oslander were already dressed appropriately for such movement. Neither openly carried anything reflective. Both wore colors designed to blend into the foliage in an attempt to obscure their silhouettes. A body’s outline, or even just the head and shoulders, are silhouettes that draw an intelligent eye; even if a watcher can’t identify what it sees immediately, the eye is unconsciously drawn, and recognition eventually percolates into consciousness. Camouflage helped.
The trees ahead of her were obviously not right. She held her right hand up and made a fist, a sign for Gunggari to pause. Taking a moment, she scanned the area, noticing the blighted trees and a gray, unhealthy looking fungus growing over trees, leavesthough there were few enough of thoseand the ground. Beyond those she could make out a clear circular space bordered by weathered stones. She was seeing the edge of the Mucklestones.
Normally, the ring of trees surrounding the stones reached their branches out above the hollow bowl, entirely protecting it from the sky’s open gaze. But the surrounding trees, fungus-wounded and dying, had lost most of their leaves, and the sky was easily visible above.