The bottom half of the burner lay beneath the surface, but the balloon’s master clung grimly to the portion that jutted into the air.
“We’re not clear yet!” Castimir was relieved to hear Kara’s voice. “The wolves of Canifis are coming. Come on, the Salve is probably no more than half a mile away.”
“And what of the Vyrewatch?” he asked as he neared the shore and his feet found the bottom of the swamp. He still had his satchel, and the runes that lay within.
At least I will be able to use fire magic now.
“I don’t think there are any of the creatures left,” Kara said. “But where are Pia and Jack?”
They might be dead, Kara.
Castimir waded out of the swamp and onto dry land. People were calling out in the morning light, though now that they were on the ground again, the green vapour stole the sunlight, reminding the wizard of a murky twilight. The voices mixed with the sounds of their pursuers.
The howls were closer now, and Castimir wondered whether they could make it to the Salve in time. He saw others that shared his worry. Quickly yet carefully he began to sort his runes.
“Come on,” Karnac urged his people. “Get up and out of the water. Take the person nearest to you and do not leave them. We can still get out alive. Now, come on!”
When the wizard looked up again, he saw that the survivors of Hope Rock had gathered into a group, now fewer than twenty. He recognised the pregnant woman, breathless and weeping, and the spirit woman, too. Pia and Jack were there, as well, the girl’s face a fearful white as she watched Albertus. He bore a wound across his face, though it no longer bled.
The old man was perched upon Gideon Gleeman’s back. The jester bore him with ease, despite his own injuries, as if he were no more than a child. At Gideon’s side-his face a mask of pain-was the gnome Peregrim.
From the perimeter of the group, he noted Theodore, wielding his sword in preparation. Doric stood behind the knight, his wolfbane dagger drawn. On the opposite side stood Kara, absolutely still, her adamant sword held in her right hand, the sword Kingsguard in her left. Thrust through her belt was her own dagger, unhindered now by any sheath.
“Come on,” Despaard urged. “We haven’t much time left.”
Swiftly, the frightened, bedraggled group moved off, until only the wizard and his friends remained, leaving Castimir feeling exposed.
“Shouldn’t we follow?” he asked Kara, unable to keep the fear from his voice.
“We will give them a few seconds to get ahead,” she replied, her eyes never leaving the foliage. “We fight a rear-guard action today.”
Against the whole of Canifis?
The howls weren’t far away now, and it seemed as if there were two distinct groups. One to the north and one to the south.
If they have run all the way from Canifis they must be exhausted.
“Maybe the pack has had to split up to find its way around this pool,” Doric suggested in a low voice.
Kara nodded.
“You might be right-”
The foliage to the north burst apart as a grey wolf leapt out. He gave a great breath and turned to Kara, who stood nearest.
“Where is the dwarf?”
Castimir reacted instantly. The runes melted in his hands and he summoned his strength.
“No!” Doric was at his side. The dwarf seized his hand and forced it up, away from the werewolf, where his half-finished spell sent a spark of discordant fire from his hands.
The creature laughed. It had made no attempt to move.
“I return my favour to you, dwarf,” it said. “I uphold my oath for the final time today. You and your companions are safe for now, for I led the pack to the edge of a lake. It will give you time enough to get to the river and escape.”
“Thank you, Imre,” Doric uttered.
The wolf laughed again.
“Don’t thank me, dwarf. It is an old trick we use, the howling. Prey fear it, of course, but they believe it gives our location away. Not so. Five of Canifis’s best hunters have already moved to cut off those ahead of you, for such folk were not included in our bargain.
“Like I have said, you and your friends here are safe. The others will die.”
“No,” Kara yelled. “No!”
She turned and ran to the west, and Imre called after her.
“You are too late, little girl, too late. Can’t you hear? The slaughter has already begun!”
A scream came from the west-a cry of terror followed by a snarl. The cry ceased, and Castimir thought of the pregnant woman, of her fear. He caught sight of Arisha at his side, already turning to follow Kara.
No! No more deaths! No more!
He ran to catch her up, Theodore and Doric behind.
The sounds of violence were growing.
36
Pia heard Karnac’s voice over the growling of the attackers who jumped around them, hemming them in.
Like dogs rounding up sheep!
A few of the humans had tried to run already, to break away from the main body and flee to the west, but they were the first to be brought down and slain. Harold had broken from the group to try and buy them time, but he had been brutally killed before Karnac or Lord Despaard could run to his aid.
She clutched her brother tightly.
“We’ll get out of this, I promise. We’ll-”
But her words failed. The sight of bodies with their throats torn out or their innards leaking from their stomachs made anything she could say a mockery.
“Gather together!” Karnac shouted. “The river is near!”
One of the werewolves laughed viciously.
“Then who will be the first to try for it? You? There are few among you who would dare fight us. There is no one who can save you.”
Suddenly the spirit woman took Jack by the shoulder.
“I need you, boy,” she said. “Remember what I told you? I will have need of your strength, to draw him to our aid. Come!” She took him forward, and stood squarely before the werewolf. Her actions were so unexpected, Pia was too shocked and afraid to object.
“I count five of them,” Lord Despaard whispered to Karnac. “I might be able to take one with my dagger, but not all of them. Not a chance.”
“Where are Kara and that mage?” Karnac asked bitterly. “Without them we are lost.”
Then the werewolf noticed the two figures who had stepped up.
“What is this? A boy and a hag?” He crouched and drew closer to them. “Come, let us hear your plea. Pick your words with care, for they will be your last.”
They don’t need to rush, Pia knew. They like to torment their victims.
Unless Kara and her friends come, we will die here.
“They will be my last words, wolf, as yours may well be. If you leave us now, you may live. If not, you will die.”
“Is that it? An idle threat?” the creature came so close that it was almost nose-to-nose with the woman. The boy cringed. “I will save you till last, hag, so that you may hear the screams of your family and friends. And before I kill you I will consume the boy there, your grandson perhaps? You will die with his blood on your face.”
Lord Despaard yelled from behind Pia as one of the circling attackers jumped forward, grabbing a woman by her arm and dragging her away from the group. Pia heard her screams as the nobleman ran forward and slashed his dagger across the werewolf’s snout.
“Back woman!” he commanded. “Get back!”
The werewolf turned and ran, yet Lord Despaard was now separated from the group. Coming from both sides two creatures jumped forward, each feinting and ducking while the woman Despaard had rescued darted back to the group.
They will rip him in half, and then we will follow. Where is Kara? Where?