Escape (33 page)

“I don't like this,” Jilly said. “Are we seriously going to follow them?”

Ferrel was staring uneasily into the shifting mist. “Not spectral, man. This is a total brain-swirler.”

Kieran frowned. “I don't like it either, but I don't see that we have much choice.” And with that, he started down the slope.

The howling began again shortly after they'd disappeared into the mist, putting everyone on edge.

“At least we can hear where they are,” Jilly said.

Lystra interrupted his incessant, tuneless whistling to say: “Dun be fooled. It's the ones you canna hear you ‘ave to worry 'bout.” The whistling resumed.

“Will you
shut
up?!” Ferrel hissed. “You're letting them know where we are!”

“They cud 'ear us without me whistling,” Lystra said cheerily.

“Well it's annoying.”

Lystra began whistling again, the same three, sharp notes as before.

Kieran frowned. That was inconsiderate.
Is he trying to provoke Ferrel?

The mist grew thicker, until they could barely see each other. Suddenly, Lystra stopped whistling. The wind had also stopped, and the air was eerily still. The silence left their ears ringing and straining for the slightest noise. Kieran supposed they were walking down the leeward side of a hill.

Jilly was listening anxiously, but she could only hear their footsteps rustling through the grass. She kept half an eye on their guide, assuming he'd be the first to react to anything amiss.

Suddenly, the old man stopped.

“What is it?” Kieran asked.

“Shush. Listen
.
 
.
 
.
 
.
”

They'd all stopped moving through the grass, but it went on rustling as though they hadn't. Then
 
.
 
.
 
.

Lystra began whistling again. Three sharp notes, in quick succession.

Kieran's eyes flew wide with a sudden jolt of comprehension. His gaze narrowed sharply upon Lystra Deswin.

The old man began to whisper: “Ya know why I live in the Forsaken Lands?” Lystra unslung his rifle, and turned to them. There was a strange gleam in his eyes. He was smiling.

Lystra took a quick step back and pointed his gun at them. “I live here because I don't like the company of changers.” Suddenly Lystra's quaint accent was gone.

“You were calling to them
 
.
 
.
 
.
” Ferrel said.

Lystra's smile broadened. “Clever boy.” The old man began backing away into the mist. Dimmi rushed forward with her daggers raised, her chest heaving with ill-contained rage. Lystra shifted his aim subtly, and she stopped short. The old man gave his head a quiet shake.

“Wait!” Kieran said. “Let's talk about this.”

Lystra Deswin's smiling face faded into the mist.

That was when the snarling began. Followed by the sound of heavy breathing, and a damp, fetid smell.

“Do you smell that?” Kieran asked. He looked around, turning in a quick circle.

Nothing. It smelled like rotting meat.

Ferrel whispered: “Can you hear them?”

“I don't smell or hear anything!” Jilly hissed.

“I think we'd better go back
 
.
 
.
 
.
” Kieran said. He turned around, and realized with a start that he didn't know which way they'd come. The mist obscured any possible landmarks. Kieran blinked and peered into the heavy gray veil of moisture, willing it to part.

That was when he saw them
—
a pair of sharp, golden eyes peering back at him, glinting with what little light had managed to pierce the mist. He turned in a slow circle and counted five more sets of eyes.

They were surrounded.

“Too late,” Dimmi said.

There was a sudden, ragged growl, and the first wolvin leapt for Jilly's throat.

Chapter 15

K
ieran jumped in front of the wolvin as it was leaping for Jilly's neck. He grabbed it on either side of its enormous black-furred head, his momentum knocking it off course. The snapping jaws turned his way as they tumbled to the ground. Jilly screamed, watching as he was smothered beneath a mountain of glossy black fur. Kieran wrestled with the creature, grunting with the effort of holding it back. Its jaws were snarling and snapping micenté-astroms from his face. Two of its four paws were planted on his chest. The creature was so heavy that it felt like someone was trying to drive blunt stakes through his sternum. Kieran was losing his grip on the beast; its snarling jaws were slipping closer; its rancid breath filled his nostrils with the smell of rotting meat.

Then he heard another scream, and more snarling. The scream was Dimmi's, followed promptly by a strangled cry from Ferrel. Then, closer by, he heard Jilly whimper, followed by more snarling and her muffled screams for help. They were being picked off one by one. He couldn't even see what was happening, let alone help them. Kieran's gaze bored into the wild, golden eyes of the wolvin on top of him. He'd never felt more hatred for anything than he felt for that beast. He wanted to kill it, as quickly and painfully as possible.

Die!

Suddenly, the creature let out a piercing scream and jerked violently between his hands. It broke free and ran. Kieran bolted to his feet and saw the animal collapse before it had even made it five steps.

There was no time to wonder what had happened. He quickly searched the swirling mist, looking for Jilly. He couldn't see her anywhere. There were two of the black-furred monsters on the ground, their paws spread wide, their heads down, making wet smacking noises.

They were feeding.

Kieran was overcome by a blinding rage. In an instant, he was beside the first creature. He kicked it as hard as he could in the ribs. The creature let out a sudden howling scream and fell over, thrashing. Kieran's boot came away glistening blackly. The creature's side was bubbling, and its struggles were growing weaker by the second. Kieran stared uncomprehendingly at what he'd done. A strange giddy feeling crept into the pit of his stomach. The sight of the wolvin struggling in the grass was making him salivate. He could take a nice big bite out of its side, and then another
 
.
 
.
 
.
so moist and fresh
 
.
 
.
 
.
Kieran took a halting step forward, then frowned and shook his head, horrified by the turn of his thoughts. His chest heaving with fury and exhilaration, his eyes wandered to the creature's prey, and his appetite vanished.

Jilly lay there, motionless, and covered in blood. The side of her plain white flight suit was torn open, and he could see the white of her ribs poking out of the gore. Her arm on the same side was bent at an impossible angle.

Kieran got down on his knees beside her, checking for a pulse. He pressed his fingers anxiously to her neck.

Nothing.

Kieran let out a cry of frustration and gripped the wrist of her uninjured arm in his hand, checking there for a pulse.

Still nothing.

Kieran let out an unintelligible roar. The other wolvin looked up suddenly and cocked its head at him. Its bone-white teeth were glistening wetly in the gloom.

Kieran locked eyes with the beast and whispered, “You're dead.”

Not taking the challenge seriously, the creature went back to eating whichever of Ferrel or Dimmi it had taken down.

Kieran charged at top speed. Some distant part of him was quietly amazed by how quickly he moved. In less than the blink of an eye, he had collided with the other wolvin, physically knocking it off its prey, despite being less than half the creature's weight. The beast hit the grassy slope with a dull
thud
, and twisted its head around, clamping its jaws around his forearm. Kieran gritted his teeth against the white-hot flash of the pain. He could feel the wolvin's teeth grinding against his bones, trying to snap them like toothpicks. Reaching around with his free arm, Kieran seized the upper part of the beast's jaw, and squeezed as hard as he could.

He felt the creature's bones bending. Then they cracked and broke with noisy popping sounds, and the creature let out a gurgling whimper. It stumbled away from him, snapping its bloodied jaws; the upper part of its long snout was crushed beyond recognition and flopping uselessly. Kieran got up and took two quick steps toward it. The beast was too distracted by its injury to react. It was whimpering piteously.

He had a moment to appreciate the sheer size of the beast. Its shoulders came up to his chest, even with its head bowed and its paws making dizzy swipes at its broken snout.

Feeling a small spark of pity for the beast, Kieran brought his arm down on its thick neck like a guillotine. There was a sharp crack as the creature's vertebrae separated. It's neck flopped limply to one side, and it fell to the other.

The giddy feeling in the pit of his stomach returned as he stared down at his kill. His mouth watered, but there was no time to indulge himself. He checked the beast's prey. It was Ferrel. There was a chunk missing from his leg, and the gaping wound which was ominously free of blood. Even without checking the boy's pulse, Kieran knew what that meant. His heart had stopped pumping.

Kieran spun in a fast circle, checking for more adversaries. He saw three more sets of golden eyes peering at him through the mist.

“Come on! What are you waiting for?” The muscles in Kieran's neck stood out like cords of rope.

One of the creatures howled, and suddenly all three sets of eyes disappeared, winking out one by one. Kieran frowned, wondering what they were up to and where they had gone. The next howl he heard came to his ears from a distance. They were leaving.

Kieran let out a long, agonized breath. Apart from a few bruises and the ragged bite on his left arm, he'd gotten away unscathed. That was more than could be said for Jilly and Ferrel, and he hadn't even found Dimmi yet. As the haze of bloodlust and fury left his body, Kieran began shivering from spent adrenaline. He returned to Jilly's side, and sank to his knees in the long grass beside her. He checked her wrist for a pulse again.

Nothing. He couldn't believe it. She couldn't be dead! Kieran's eyes raked across her injuries, looking for place to begin administering CPR. With the ragged hole in her side being the probable cause of death, there didn't seem to be any point trying to get her heart started again. She'd likely bled out. He scanned the grass beside her, feeling it with his hands. There was very little blood on the ground. Meaning her heart had to have stopped almost immediately.

Kieran's face crumpled, and his eyes blurred. The sobs came softly at first, and then dry, shuddering heaves racked his whole body until he felt physically ill.

“What are you crying about?” The voice was feminine.

Kieran's swollen eyes shot open and anxiously scanned Jilly's pale, impassive face, hoping against hope. “Jilly?” he croaked. No response. He reached out and stroked her pale cheek.

“Oh. Oh Deus
 
.
 
.
 
.
”

Kieran shook his head, willing himself not to realize that it was Dimmi who had spoken. But he could see her, a blurry, bloody figure in his peripheral vision, impossible to ignore. He turned and looked up at her. Her face looked stricken, and her eyes were fixed on Jilly's gaping wound. Each of her hands was clutching a bloody dagger in a reverse grip.

“I'm sorry, Kieran. I really am.” She took a breath, looked away with a grimace, and asked, “Where is Ferrel?”

“Dead.”

“Kefick
 
.
 
.
 
.
” she whispered. Her gaze panned around in a slow circle, and her eyes lit upon three separate wolvin corpses. A frown furrowed her brow. She looked down at her bloody molecular-edged daggers, the only thing which had enabled her to fight off the beast which had given chase as she'd run away. Then she looked at Kieran, who was still gazing distractedly into Jilly's frozen face. He'd stopped sobbing, and was now frozen in a state of apparent shock.

“What happened to the wolvins?”

Kieran gave no reply.

“Kieran?”

“I killed them,” he said quietly.

Dimmi blinked.
He couldn't have.

He looked up at her and nodded.
And yet I did.

Dimmi blinked again, and her gaze sharpened on Kieran's tear and blood-streaked face.
You can hear my thoughts, can't you?

And you can hear mine.

Dimmi took a sudden step back. “What the kefick?!”