She was brave, but bravery wasn’t going to save her against two vicious displacer beasts. Geth swept his arms wide, drew in a deep breath, and … shifted.
Somewhere deep, deep in the past the gift of lycanthropy, the ability to take the form of wolves, bears, tigers, and other animals, had risen in humans. Those who possessed it, whether naturally or by way of a curse, found themselves shunned-as predators and worse-by those who did not. They began to keep to themselves, favoring secrecy or the company of other shapeshifters. Among those shapeshifters who bred only with their own kind, the lines of lycanthropy stayed true. Where they bred with normal humans, though, or where they fell in love and mated with those of another line, the blood of the lycanthropes mingled and combined. The children born of such unions weren’t fully human, but neither were they lycanthropes. They were strong, they were fast, and they were marked by the blood of beasts. They might not have been able to take the animal form of their lycanthrope parent, but they could take on some of its qualities.
Generation to generation, the traits bred true. Over time a new race was born, neither human nor lycanthrope nor animal, but something of each. They became the weretouched. The shifters.
Geth’s ancient heritage rose up from deep within him, spreading out from the core of his being. Some shifters manifested terrible claws, others massive fangs, still others astounding speed or heightened senses. Geth’s gift from his lycanthrope ancestors was sheer toughness. Strength seeped into bones and flooded his flesh. His skin hardened and his hair became coarse like an animal’s tough hide. A sense of invincibility swept through him. For the moment at least, he felt unstoppable!
He let out the breath he had drawn in a tremendous roar and bounded down the slope, heading straight for the smaller displacer beast. His sudden appearance had both the creatures and their intended prey off balance-the dark-haired woman stared in shock as the displacer beasts whirled around to face this new threat. They were slow, though. The smaller beast sent barbed tentacles questing toward them. He shouted out another roar and swung his axes in twin arcs.
The natural magic of displacer beasts made them difficult to fight and attacking one took a combination of both skill and luck. As the beast’s tentacles lashed toward him, Geth spun aside and chopped blindly. His left-hand weapon bit into unseen flesh. More than a foot away, the beast’s tentacle sheared apart and the horny barbed pad at its end fell to the ground.
The beast’s screeches of pain as it scrambled away were almost loud enough to drown out the sound of Adolan’s chanted prayer as he called upon the powers of the forest to lend them aid. A breeze seemed to blow through the trees, stirring vines, branches, prickly bushes and tall stalks of grass-except that Geth felt nothing in the air.
All around the retreating beast, however, the stirring intensified as the plants of forest answered the druid’s call, whipping into sudden life and twining around the monster. The beast squealed and struggled to free itself from their entangling grasp. Geth bared his teeth. The weak plants wouldn’t hold the creature for long, but they would slow it down. As Adolan came sliding down the slope, spear at the ready, Geth whirled to face the larger beast.
The creature was crouched low to the ground and growling, its eyes darting between Geth and the cornered woman as it tried to grasp the turn of events. Its wide green eyes shrank to slits and its tentacles swayed dangerously. “Get back!” it yowled. “Get back and live! My prey! Mine!”
Geth’s teeth clenched. They do talk, he thought. Damn. He bent his knees, sinking into a defensive posture, and stretched out his arms, axes ready for an attack.
And an attack came-but not against him.
The determination that the dark-haired woman had worn like a shield seemed to condense abruptly into outrage. “Prey?” she cried. “Prey? I am no one’s prey, you hideous dahr!”
She took a step forward … and her sandaled feet rose off the ground. As if lifted up by her anger, she floated a foot or more above the forest floor, her eyes and face shining with fury. Her hand stabbed at the beast. Abruptly, a sound like a chorus of voices seemed to fill Geth’s ears and a stream of white flames lanced from the woman’s hand toward the beast.
The monster screeched and twisted-and where Geth would have thought that the flames would lap against its flank, instead they hissed through empty air. The woman’s aim had been fooled by the beast’s glamer. It lunged at her, tentacles flailing. The move seemed to catch her by surprise. She managed to slip under one tentacle, her feet sliding across the air, but the other whirled around and caught her with a hard slap across the chest. Her spear flew out of her hand and she slammed backward into the rocks with an audible thud. Her still body slid back down to the ground.
The displacer beast whirled back toward Geth. “Die you now! Yes! Die!” A tentacle lashed at him. Geth raised an arm, blocking. The barbed pad at the tentacle’s end ripped away the fabric of his sleeve and gouged at his flesh. Anyone else would have had their skin flayed by the attack. Geth’s shifting-toughened hide was left with nothing worse than deep scratches.
“Die now?” he snarled in mocking imitation of the beast’s screeching voice. “Yes!”
He leaped in close, hacking and chopping with his axes. The beast dodged back, countering with tentacles and-if Geth got too close-a vicious swipe from one of its six clawed feet. His shifting heritage protected him from the worst damage of its attacks, though, just as the beast’s magic kept most of his blows away from it.
It still managed to hit him more often than he hit it, though. In moments, he was bleeding from a half a dozen deep gouges, and the displacer beast was grinning with mad blood lust. Geth stumbled back, breathing hard. A tentacle grabbed his leg, yanked, and he was on the ground, staring up at the beast.
“More prey!” the creature screamed. “More!” Its head darted down, jaws wide.
Geth dropped one axe and snapped the other up crossways against his body, clutching it with both hands. The stout wood of the shaft jammed across the beast’s open jaws like a horse’s bridle. The beast tried to shake it out, but Geth pushed back, pressing the axe up. The creature’s tentacles wrapped around his arms and tried to pull them aside. Geth’s arms were stronger-at least for the moment. “Ado!” he roared.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the druid. The smaller displacer beast had managed to rip its way free of the twining forest plants. Adolan held it at bay with his spear, shifting and thrusting to ward off the creature’s lunging attacks. His eyes darted to Geth, though, then up to the sky. He feinted, then jumped away as the creature reacted to the false attack. In the clear for a moment, he drew a deep breath, folded his lower lip under his front teeth, and let out two clear, piercing whistles.
The sky seemed to fall on the displacer beast that had Geth pinned as Breek came plummeting down like a feathered lightning bolt. With an accuracy that no human eye could have matched, the eagle struck the displacer beast square in the back. Wicked talons tore at the creature’s blue-black hide and the beast let out a deafening screech of pain and alarm. It twisted around on itself, desperately trying to strike at this new attacker. As it reared back and its tentacles released his arms, Geth threw himself away from it.
His hand closed on the shaft of the unconscious woman’s fallen spear, and he rolled to his feet with the weapon in his grip. The weapon was lighter than he expected, its shaft carved from some light, almost-wood, and its head forged of a metal with a delicate, almost crystalline sparkle. It looked needle-sharp, though, and that was what mattered. “Ado, I’m clear!” he shouted.
The second beast had turned its attention back to the druid, its tentacles lashing like serpents. This time, though, it looked like it was trying to seize the spear and tear it away. Adolan let out another whistle.