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into the mass of tent town residents. Galvin and
Brenna rushed toward where they had seen the thing fall, elbowing their way
through the growing crowd.
The druid soon found himself at the forefront of the assembled merchants, and
like the other onlookers, he stared slack-jawed at the creature. Four arrows
were lodged deeply in the grotesque beast's underside.
Obviously dying, it flapped its monstrous wings weakly, raising a small cloud
of dust.
A child screamed as the creature's skin began to bubble and pop, boiling away
like water. The wings quivered and beat faster as they shriveled and were
drawn into the rapidly diminishing form of the beast.
The crowd backed up, yet none turned away, engrossed with the vile tableau.
Finally the creature's leathery skin began to recede, revealing the silky,
blood-soaked fur of a large weasel. The animal lifted its head, a stream of
blood trickling out of its mouth, then it twitched once more and died. The
crowd lingered, each lost in his own thoughts, wondering precisely what it was
he had seen.
At last the guards from the barbicon made their way into the tent town to
disperse the throng.
One guard stooped over, picked up the body of the weasel, and turned to carry
it inside the city. The guards ignored the shouted questions from the crowd.
Disgruntled that they would get no information from the guards, the crowd
began to break up and return to their tents.
Galvin found Wynter and Brenna near the gate. "I I saw it, Galvin," the
sorceress said evenly. "Before it hit the ground, I saw it. It was like the
thing that attacked us in Aglarond. Do you think someone knows we're here?"
Brenna glanced about nervously.
"I don't think so," Galvin whispered, noting that a few of the merchants who
had returned to their camps next to the gate were staring at the trio. The
druid strolled toward their own makeshift camp. Brenna and
Wynter followed. "I think it would have gone straight after us if it was meant
for us."
"That makes sense," Wynter agreed. "We were on the edge of the tent town and
would have made easy targets."
"I hope you're right," Brenna said. She shivered, more from fear than the cool
night air, and continued to glance behind her occasionally toward the gate.
The druid paused to wrap his cloak around her shoulders. As he did, he noticed
that the tent town had resumed its former appearance, just as if nothing had
happened. He shrugged and continued striding toward their camp. Galvin
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wondered if attacks such as this were commonplace here. It could explain the
merchants' nonchalant bearing in the aftermath of the attack.
"The dwarves!" Wynter shouted suddenly, trotting to the edge of the tent town.
"They're gone!"
The former slaves had left their ropes behind and left the Harpers'
possessions untouched. The druid knelt on the ground beside a footprint left
by one of the dwarves, then glanced to the north.
"They went toward those trees," the druid observed.
"Thay's not a safe place to be at night," Wynter said nervously.
"Nothing's safe for those dwarves," Galvin concluded. "We were going to free
them anyway." The druid rose and brushed the dirt off his knees. Before he had
taken a handful of steps toward his belongings, a cry pierced the night air.
"Jujus!" a woman screamed. "Juju zombies! Szass Tam's undead will kill us
all!"
Once again the tent town leapt to life as the cry of "stiff-walkers" passed
like a crashing wave from the outer rim of tents to the city gates. The
Harpers determined from the people's cries that Szass Tam was behind the
attack and that the "stiff-walkers," or undead, were the shadowy creatures
they could make out shuffling toward the tent town.
The people on the outer edge of the tent town, including Brenna, Wynter, and
Galvin, were the first to react. The night-cloaked figures had already come
upon some of the campers there, silently lifting their blankets and awkwardly
prodding through their tents and lean-tos. It was obvious the undead were
looking for something or someone.
The merchants grabbed their torches and lanterns, hoping the light would keep
the undead creatures at
bay. The women gathered their children and ran toward the gates. As the
campers pushed closer to
Amruthar's walls, the ragged-clothed corpses shambled through the canvas and
discarded belongings, the stench of their decaying bodies wafting across the
tent town. There were ten of the things that had long ago been living
creatures. They had hollow eye sockets and skeletal frames, and despite their
degree of decomposition, they still had vaguely human shapes. The undead
regrouped at the edge of the tent town, then, as one, they glanced up with
their empty sockets straight toward Brenna and the Harpers.
The trio hadn't moved far in this time, waiting to see what the zombies would
do. After several long moments, the undead began to advance, with their
broken, yellowed teeth bared and claws outstretched.
Brenna screamed in terror. "They're here for us!"
"Get your back to mine and Wynter's," Galvin commanded. "We'll stand our
ground till the peddlers are safe inside the gate." Galvin motioned for Wynter
to form a small ring. In the back of his mind, he wished they had decided to
stay inside Amruthar's walls.
The druid was genuinely frightened that the sorceress might have hit the
mark the zombies did seem to be after them. Glancing around, he saw no
fatalities among the peddlers, just toppled tents and disturbed bedrolls, so
the undead weren't mindlessly killing everything that lay in their path. If
they truly were after the three heroes, they would continue on like
thoughtless automatons until they had captured their victims or until their
intended victims had dispatched them. The zombies had the advantage, Galvin
knew, even though there were only ten of them. Undead beings didn't tire, and
they never had to sleep.
Brenna dug about in her satchel for her spell components while she desperately
called for the retreating merchants to band together to fight the creatures.
She knew that the sheer number of Thayvian peddlers could overwhelm the undead
attackers, and she was unnerved that Galvin seemed to want the campers to run.
Her pleas for their help brought a scowl from Galvin and fell on deaf ears.
Already screams of terror were filling the night sky as the merchants
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continued to flee, blotting out all other sounds. The enchantress wondered if
Amruthar's guards would open the gates and let the tent people inside or leave
them to be slaughtered.
Galvin's eyes flashed in the starlight, and he began to transform, not caring
if anyone saw him. He needed a body that would catch the zombies off guard,
yet could fight viciously. He fell to all fours as thick, coarse orange and
black hair sprouted from his face and hands and spread like melting butter to
obscure his clothing. Sharp white teeth emerged from his swelling feline
snout, and long white whiskers pushed outward through the fur around his nose. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]