David Farland - Lords of the Seventh Swarm

The dronon marched over him, and one of the guards near the far wall actually stepped on Orick’s belly, never paying attention to the bear.

Then he was gone, and the others marched past.

Hundreds of them marched together, but most scurried in darkness, and would not have been able to discern Orick’s form.

Somehow, Orick felt terrified that they would recognize him as a bear, but after the first hundred dronon had passed, he began to wonder. Did the dronon even know what a bear was?

Only the Lords of the Sixth Swarm had ever been to the human-occupied worlds. These other dronon might never have even laid eyes on a human, much less a bear. If they noticed that Orick wasn’t a sfuz, perhaps they imagined he was just some other local varmint.

So it came as no surprise when the last dronon scrambled past.

The dronon had not checked the corpses. They’ve probably all heard that Maggie has been caught, Orick realized.

They’re just retreating to their ship, glad to be quit of this place.

When the last dronon footsteps had echoed away, Tallea got up. “Let’s go “ she said.

She picked up her light. Once she put it in her mouth, it began glowing softly. Orick rose, and together they ran, galloping at full speed, fearing time was of the essence.

In five minutes they reached golden cliffs of carved sandstone, and the tunnel that ran along beside the cliffs, climbing uphill. Here, a tremendous battle had raged. Sfuz and dronon lay dead by the thousands and tens of thousands; ifres still burned dimly among the humus.

Oval holes along the cliff face showed where Qualeewoohs had nested once, ages ago. Orick’s heart leapt.

This is it , he thought. This is Teeawah .

Tallea climbed into one of the first holes, bounding through, and Orick followed her into a room full of bones and a few dead sfuz, looking for all the world like dried spiders. This room led them into a wider corridor, and the air here felt clogged and unhealthy, almost unbreathable, as if someone had just cleaned a chimney.

Yet, here Orick made a remarkable discovery. Rushing down a wide corridor he caught familiar scents: the florid essence of Lord Felph’s bath perfumes, along with Zeus’s distinctive lotions, accompanied by … someone Orick recalled-the aroma of pipe tobacco, and a wool coat. And … that old blackguard Thomas Flynn!

Just as Orick began to recuperate from the surprise, up ahead, along a stone corridor, he heard the pop, pop, pop, of a dronon pulp pistol.

Orick halted, wondering what strange news this portended. Zeus he had anticipated might be here-but Felph and Thomas Flynn? He’d left Thomas months ago, back in the Milky Way. Thomas could only have gotten here by a world gate in company with the dronon.

Tallea dropped her glow globe, whispered, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” Orick said. “Plenty, I think.”

Orick stood, wondering. He’d never been a hero. That was Gallen’s job, standing in the midst of the battle. But though Orick had the heart for battle, he lacked Gallen’s appendages.

Normally, such minor things wouldn’t bother him, but he was on the path of three men, all of them probably armed, none of whom he trusted. One of them was blasting away, at something.

“Let’s take care,” Orick said.

He and Tallea stalked slowly, sniffing, eyes forward. Orick could smell Zeus most strongly. The young man had come in just moments ago, not far behind the others.

The path led down, past the bodies of several sfuz who lay, still bleeding, in their death throes. The smell of explosives was heavy in the air.

Tallea dimmed her light, and Orick hurried forward.

Somehow, he felt odd-as if every side passage contained sfuz, as if something watched him.

The corridor turned twice, Leaded down, past a pile of corpses-both sfuz and dronon, until at last a pile of sfuz corpses nearly blocked the passage, hundreds upon hundreds of them, all lying in a great heap, their legs twisted horribly, bright black eyes shining in the darkness, white fangs gleaming in Tallea’s dull light.

Felph and the others had merely crawled over the corpses, crawled up and over through a narrow passage, where a faint green light shimmered dimly.

Tallea stopped and studied the dead sfuz, somehow as unnerved by them as Orick was. Orick couldn’t help but remember that Felph had said that these things would reanimate a few hours after death. All of them looked so alive.

How long had it been, anyway, since the dronon had fought here? Orick estimated that it had been six or seven hours since the dronon first made it into the tangle, and a dark line of thought occurred to him.

These sfuz might waken soon. Not just some of them, all of them. This whole place would be crawling with them, and if Orick didn’t hurry and get to the Waters now, he’d never make it out alive.

“Come on,” he told Tallea, as he charged toward the pile of sfuz, bounded up, climbing over the bodies. He had to be careful. Even in death the sfuz were dangerous-fangs gleamed everywhere, and each leg had sharp climbing spurs on it, dangerous things as sharp as any knife. And Lord Felph had warned that these creatures used poisonous weapons. Orick feared that those climbing spurs might be deadly.

Just as he reached the narrow opening at the top of the pile, and glimpsed the green curtain of light farther down the tunnel, something came alive beneath his feet. A warm black body twisted, long spidery legs slashing out with their spurs, trying to disembowel him.

Instinctively Orick tore with his paws, bit down. A sfuz that had lain in the pile squealed in pain, stabbed as it tried to free itself. The monster was impossibly quick, striking three blows to Orick’s chest for each one of his to the monster.

Orick grunted in pain at the blows, trying too frantically to counterattack to make any display of anger.

Just as he began to realize he was in more trouble than he could handle, Tallea darted in, grabbed one of the sfuz’s long legs in her teeth, and pulled. The distraction gave Orick enough time to bat the thing in the head, and the sfuz fell still.

Orick stood panting, his chest heaving. He felt blood oozing out his chest, winced in pain. The wounds were deeper than he would have liked, closer to vital areas. He only hoped that his nanodocs would keep him together.

Yet more frightening than this attack was the fact that one of the sfuz had apparently come alive.

If this one revived, why not others? It might be only a matter of minutes before they all arose.

Orick squirmed over the dead sfuz, down the far side of the pile, and did not slow as he rushed through an icy veil of green light, sniffed something strange: a great dew tree filled this room, its twisted roots splaying in all directions.

The lights all about them, the green curtains of light that felt so cold to the touch, let him see well enough for a bear.

Up near the base of the great tree, a white light shone among the roots. Someone was climbing down from the tree, and the light dipped behind aroot like a star falling beyond the horizon.

Tallea had dropped her own light on the ground, let it dwindle completely. Orick could smell Zeus now, his scent strong. He’d been here only moments before.

“That way!” Tallea said, nodding toward the distant light of the glow globe.

Orick didn’t feel so confident. “Tread quietly,” he whispered.

For the next several moments they ran, surefooted over the twisting roots, moving faster than any human could in the same circumstances. Ahead, the light continued to dwindle and descend, so that now it lit the roots as if it were a campfire in a grotto.

When he neared this circle of light, Orick slowed. Up ahead, on the root they trod, Zeus stood in the darkness, sneaking toward the light, gun drawn.