Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three) (56 page)
Read Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three) Online
Authors: Trevor H. Cooley
Deathclaw, we cannot wait for you here
. Memories of a fearsome rocky giant were sent into his mind. The riverbank was the edge of this monster’s territory and they were afraid that their presence would draw its attention.
We will head up the hill to the outskirts of Charz’s territory and wait for you to finish crossing. Hurry as quick as you can.
Deathclaw understood their urgency. His years in the Whitebridge desert had made him familiar with the necessity of avoiding the territories of stronger creatures. He watched as Justan and the others traveled down the shore and up a grassy hill. They faded from sight and he redoubled his pace, more confident in the directions he was given and in his own ability to traverse the shallow waters. Soon the bank sprawled before him. Deathclaw’s body was weary and numb with the cold, but he exulted in his achievement. He had not let the river beat him.
A short distance from the shoreline, a large shadow flowed across the bank. Deathclaw looked and saw an enormous beast circling in the sky above and forgot about his triumph. He knew it immediately. That night, so much had been hidden in shadow, but he remembered the great horns on its head and the heat of its passing. This was the beast that had taken Talon. Its skin was scaled a deep red; its wings, claws, and horns a deep black.
It swooped down close to the shore and a figure leapt from its back, rolling as it hit the ground. This green-skinned creature, about Deathclaw’s size, stood from the pebbled ground of the riverbank and brushed itself off. It wore some kind of thick green overlapping plate armor.
Deathclaw crouched and watched it warily. It saw his stance and copied his motion, settling into a crouch of its own. Neither of them made a move for several seconds. Then in a smooth motion, it drew two daggers from a belt at its waist and charged.
It was fast.
The party had been waiting at the outer edge of Charz’s territory only a short time when they saw the red beast glide overhead and bank towards the shoreline.
“What the blasted hell was that?” Bettie said, from atop her chestnut mount.
“It was huge. Was it a dragon?” Qyxal asked.
“No,” said Master Coal. He placed a hand on Samson’s shoulder. “Do you recognize it?” The centaur shook his head.
Justan had no idea just what it was, but it was headed towards Deathclaw’s position. Lenny opened his mouth to speak just as Justan felt Deathclaw’s recognition of the beast.
“We need to head back,” he said.
“But I was gonna tell you-,” Lenny began.
“Don’t worry. Charz has no way to know we’re here.” Justan said. “Deathclaw recognized that thing. It was the beast that took his demon sister the night we bonded. What if it attacks him?”
Fist pulled his new mace from its place at his back.
I’m ready.
Me too,
Gwyrtha added.
“Surely he knows to stay out of sight,” Master Coal said, obviously hesitant to re-enter the giant’s territory.
Justan’s eyes widened. “He’s under attack!”
Coal frowned, then nodded. “Let’s go.”
“Wait a dag-gum minute, son!” Lenny said. “I think I might-!“
Gwyrtha was already running down the steep bank along the tree line. Justan leaned forward in the saddle, clutching her mane. Fist was right behind, his long powerful legs churning the earth with the increased speed brought by his mace. With a curse, Lenny and Qyxal charged after them and Coal and his bonded brought up the rear.
Deathclaw’s predicament came into view as they turned the corner at the forest’s edge. The raptoid stood knee deep in the flowing water, fighting toe to toe against a small quick figure. Justan and Fist picked up speed just as the enormous winged beast reappeared in the sky above. It dove right for them.
The great red beast soared just over Justan’s head and Coal saw one of its hands release a huge ball of writhing tentacles. The ball struck the ground right behind Fist, throwing up a cloud of earth.
It instantly opened up into a wide tangled mass of waving tentacles. Lenny and Qyxal were barely able to swerve around it and reigned in just on the other side, looking back in surprise. Feelers shot out in all directions as the thing grew and expanded, taking up the road. Some of the feelers plunged into the ground like roots digging into the soil and a long stalk-like head rose from the center of the mass. A large unblinking eye opened up and gazed right at the wizard.
Coal and his bonded found themselves divided from the others. The wizard recognized the danger and shouted, “Qyxal, Lenny, go on and help them! We’ll be right behind you.”
“Dag-blast it! Right,” Lenny replied, giving one worried glance to Bettie before he wheeled Stanza around and galloped after Justan, Qyxal riding in his wake.
Coal reached for the spear strapped to the pack behind him, and handed it to Samson. He slid from the centaur’s back and switched to mage sight, studying the beast before them. What he saw surprised him. The creature was ablaze with magic. Each part of its body was held together with tiny strands of all four magical elements. The mix was wildly unstable. By all rights, such a creation should have fallen apart, but as he looked closer, he saw that each elemental strand was anchored together with wisps of spirit magic. A wizard with spirit magic had created this thing.
As he formulated a plan, Bettie lost patience. She rode forward and charged the beast, her new hammer held high.
Wait!
Coal cried through the bond, but she had come too close. One thin, whip-like tentacle lashed out from the center of the thing. It struck her horse at the shoulder, shearing off its left front leg.
The horse squealed and fell towards the beast. Bettie instinctively pulled her foot out of the stirrup and dove off the right side of her horse as it fell. She landed on her side, and scrambled backwards in the dirt, trying to put more distance between herself and the creature.
Her mount crashed at the base of the root-like structures that anchored the beast to the ground. The horse screamed in pain and thrashed, trying to get up.
“Pansy!” Bettie cried, getting to her feet. She had somehow managed to hold onto her hammer as she fell. The half-orc swung her weapon back, intending to run to her horse’s rescue.
“
No, Bettie!
” Coal shouted.
The whip creature lashed out with quick cracks of its razor sharp tentacles. Pansy’s horrible screams were silenced as the creature divided the poor horse into quarters. It kept lashing repeatedly, cutting the horse into smaller chunks. All the while, the eye on its stalk of a head never looked away from Coal and Samson.
“Bettie, come back over here!” Samson called. “We need to do this right!”
Pansy!
Bettie, tears streaming from her eyes, ran over to them. Coal laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. The roots at the whip-creature’s base churned through the ground, pulling it forward until it was on top of the horse’ still-quivering remains, then it settled down and hideous slurping noises told them that it had begun to feed.
I’m sorry, Bettie
. Coal shared in her sorrow through the bond. Bettie had raised Pansy. He had given the horse to her right after it was foaled in an attempt to help with her loneliness.
“How do we kill the damned thing?” she asked with gritted teeth.
“Like Samson said, we do it right,” Coal said. Bettie nodded.
As soon as Justan saw Deathclaw’s assailant, he knew that this was no random attack. This new figure and the great red beast in the same area? The whole thing stank of Ewzad Vriil. He spurred Gwyrtha forward, intent on getting to Deathclaw before the raptoid was overpowered.
Justan barely saw the great red beast dive from overhead. He was aware of the commotion behind him, but he didn’t stop. He trusted his friends to handle the attack and focused on helping his new bonded.
Deathclaw was holding his own at the moment, but he was sorely pressed. The attacker was unnaturally fast and Deathclaw hadn’t even been able to draw his sword yet. His complete attention was focused on avoiding the beast’s slashing daggers.
Justan saw the green overlapping platemail and made a sudden realization. This creature was similar to Huck, Ewzad’s creation that he had faced on the way to Dremald. Justan gripped Gwyrtha with his legs and sat up in the saddle, reaching back to grab his bow. He sent a mental command to Gwyrtha. She slowed to a stop and Fist arrived at their side breathing heavily but ready to fight. Squirrel left its pouch at Fist’s side and darted across the ground, headed for the trees.
Justan drew an arrow. They were close enough. He had a clear shot on the beast. He aimed for the base of its neck. Surely whatever armored plates Ewzad Vriil had given it wouldn’t be able to withstand a shot from Ma’am at such a critical spot.
Before he could release the shot, a great shadow appeared over them. Justan looked up just as the enormous winged beast darted in. It struck the ground several yards in front of them. A wave of heat blasted forth, causing Gwyrtha to stumble back several steps. Fist raised his shield, but had to strain to keep his footing.
The creature rose on two scaled feet and stretched, spreading its wings like a great demon out of legend. The air blazed hotter still. It was no dragon. It had arms and legs shaped and muscled like a man’s, but stood at twice Fist’s height. Two huge horns grew from its temples and its eyes were a fiery yellow, but its facial structure was clearly humanoid.
“Why are you here?” Justan called out, hoping that a creature this human-looking would somehow be able to be reasoned with.
The beast’s eyes widened in recognition and smiled, showing a mouth full of sharpened teeth. The voice that came out was both loud and terrible, “JUSTAN,
Again? Surely he would remember such a beast. Justan recovered from the shock of its speaking to ask, “Why do you know me? Who are you?”
“YOU
Justan’s jaw dropped. Kenn? The facial similarities between the enormous beast before him and the sniveling man he knew were faint, but Justan could think of no reason to doubt the thing. A surge of pity rose inside him. “I’m sorry Kenn. Ewzad Vriil did this to you, didn’t he?”
“DID THIS TO ME?” The beast that was Kenn spat and its saliva sizzled in the mud. “THIS WAS A
Justan saw no reason to argue with his delusions. “Why are you here, Kenn? Why are you after Deathclaw?”
“THE DEMON?” Kenn shrugged his scaled shoulders. “MY MASTER LIKES HIS PLAYTHINGS. THIS
“What matters is that I do care.” Justan knew Kenn well enough to understand that he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of this fight. Even so, he had to give Kenn a chance to back out. He laid the bow across Gwyrtha’s back and showed Kenn the runes of the back of his right hand and the palm of his left. “You are different now, Kenn, but so am I. I am Edge. I was named as warrior and wizard at the Bowl of Souls! Let Deathclaw go and there is no reason for us to fight.”
The great beast scowled. “YES, I HEARD OF YOUR SO-CALLED NAMING. THE MASTER
MENTIONED
IT TO ME MULTIPLE TIMES. EVEN IF I WASN’T HERE FOR THE DEMON, I WOULD HAPILLY KILL YOU
Justan picked up Ma’am again.
Fist, when I distract him, go help Deathclaw.
The journey across the river had taken a lot out of the raptoid and Justan could tell he was about to be overcome. Fist hesitated, not wanting to leave Justan’s side, but he tightened his grip on his new mace and nodded. Justan sent him every memory he had about his fight with Huck.
Kenn stepped forward and Justan raised his bow. But before he could draw back the string, a small fiery streak arced through the air and struck Kenn in the chest. Qyxal arrived on Albert with his new bow in hand, followed by Lenny on Stanza. A small gout of flame spurted from the place Qyxal’s arrow had struck. Kenn looked down and snorted in derision.