Don Bassingthwaite - The Binding Stone

No, he reminded himself. Not like Narath. Not yet. Bull Hollow still had a chance. Sword held low, he ran to the fight.

The effort of moving the stone, followed by the sudden, desperate fight against the Bonetree hunters, had taken more out of Dandra than she expected. It took an effort to will herself after Adolan and the elemental he had summoned from the Bull Hole-even so, she found the gentle force that held her feet above the ground faltering only halfway across the clearing. Abruptly, her feet were once more on the ground and she was stumbling. Singe was there, though, and caught her arm.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Just tired,” she told him. She pressed a hand to her forehead. She had a horrible feeling she knew why she was feeling so drained. Tetkashtai , she called silently, reaching in her mind through her connection to the crystal around her neck. Tetkashtai, I need you!

The presence only held herself away, aloof and cold. Dandra shivered. Tetkashtai!

“Dandra?” Singe asked again.

She forced herself to stand straight, relying on the purely physical strength of her body. “I just need a moment to recover.”

“I don’t think we have a moment,” Singe said. He was staring ahead of them. Dandra followed his gaze.

As it approached the dark line of the trees ahead, the great earth elemental was shrinking with each lumbering step. No, Dandra realized, it wasn’t shrinking. It was sinking back into the ground as if walking down a flight of invisible stairs. In only moments, it was gone entirely. Geth caught up to them as they reached the edge of the forest. The knuckles of the hand that clutched his sword were white with tension. “Where did it go?” the shifter growled at Adolan.

“The trees would only slow it down. It will travel underground to Bull Hollow. We’ll meet it there.” Adolan glanced up into the sky and whistled sharply. A moment later, Breek settled to the ground. The eagle’s beak and talons were stained dark with blood. He spread his wings and screeched as if in victory.

Adolan nodded. “We don’t have to worry about the hunters’ herons at least.” He flicked his fingers at the fierce bird. “To Bull Hollow, Breek! On guard!”

The eagle screeched again and leaped heavily back into the dark sky. Adolan gestured sharply with his spear and spoke a ringing word. Light-similar to the light that shone from Singe’s blade, but warm like fire where Singe’s was cold-blossomed around the spear’s head. His gaze swept across them all. “Follow me,” he ordered. “Don’t fall behind.”

The druid strode into the trees-directly into what seemed like the thickest of thorn bushes. There was no path where he had stepped. Dandra sucked in a sharp breath. Her eyes darted to Geth. He bared his teeth. “Go!” he snarled.

Dandra swallowed and plunged into the forest.

There was a path, or at least a barely clear track of some kind. Adolan’s spear shone like a beacon. Dandra moved as quickly as she dared, staying close to his light. There was a rustling and Singe’s cool steady light flashed briefly. She risked a glance over her shoulder. The wizard was right behind her and Geth, moving like a ghost, right behind him.

“Keep with me!” said Adolan. Dandra hastened to catch up and, in the shadows, stumbled again. Once more, Singe caught her.

“Stay close,” he whispered. He lifted his rapier high to spread its light around.

At the very dimmest edge of the magical illumination, a face pierced with two hoops through its lower lips flashed pale, then vanished. In the yellow-green crystal, Tetkashtai flinched in fear. Dandra gasped and called out, “Adolan, the Bonetree!”

With the elemental’s disappearance, the hunters had recovered their nerve-and with her warning, there was no need for them to remain hidden. The darkness exploded with the sound of bodies crashing through the brush to either side of them. Dandra raised her spear, Singe his rapier, and Geth his vicious gauntlet, instinctively putting their backs together to meet the attack. Adolan was faster than all three of them, though. Light and shadows whirled as he spun around and Dandra caught a glimpse of him throwing his head back to let out an undulating chant that was half words and half wild howl.

The sound of it made goose bumps on her skin and all around them, the forest seemed to stir in response to the druid’s call. To their left, the night shifted, contracting for a moment, then opening wide.

A pack of wolves burst out of nature’s rippling magic, leaping at the nearest hunters. The battle cries of the Bonetree turned to shouts of surprise and terror. Adolan howled again and magic brought forth more wolves on their right. Lean, savage bodies met snarling, bristling beasts. Dandra saw a flash of white as Geth bared his teeth in kinship with the animals. He almost started to pull away as if to join the fight, but Adolan was already moving forward, faster now. “Keep moving!” he said sharply. “The wolves will guard our backs!”

They plunged on. Every few moments, Dandra caught Geth glancing over his shoulder, watching for signs of pursuit. If there were any, she didn’t see them, but she could hear increasing barks of wolfish pain mixed in with the shrieks of the hunters. Slowly, the shrieks became confident calls. The hunters were taking the upper hand.

Tetkashtai was stirring again, fear mingling with her cold rage. Dandra, we need to get out of this place!

It’s too late for that now , Dandra snapped back.

But the brief contact with the presence also lent a fresh trickle of energy to her tired limbs. A second wind whispered across her mind. “How much farther?” she asked Geth.

“We’re almost there.”

Dandra looked ahead. Past Adolan, firelight was beginning to peek through the trees. She could smell smoke strong on the air. A little further on and she could hear screams as well.

Then they were out of the forest. Dandra froze on the edge of a scene of horror, her eyes wide and Tetkashtai’s terrified moans echoing through her soul.

The sleepy hamlet that Singe had seen at twilight was gone.

More than half of the buildings that had clustered around Bull Hollow’s open common were on fire. Two had already collapsed, one falling back into trees and setting them alight as well-luck seemed to be the only thing holding back a forest fire. Smoke drifted and whirled on the air, threatening to choke the wizard with every breath.

Figures raced back and forth across the common-dolgrims, bandy legs and arms twitching like demented toys, and the folk of Bull Hollow, some fleeing in terror, some trying to fight back. Screams tumbled from more than one burning building.

Mixed with the screams was the chuckling, gibbering chatter of the dolgrims. If Singe could have blotted out that nightmare chorus, he would have. Through long years of war and service to House Deneith, he had seen more battlefields than he cared to remember. He could think of only one that might compare to the madness that had fallen on Bull Hollow.

Geth stood beside him. Singe glanced at the shifter. White showed around his eyes. His breath was coming short and shallow between his sharp teeth. Singe knew they were both seeing the same battle-if the massacre at Narath could really have been called a battle at all.

On his other side, Dandra stood stiff with shock. In front of her, Adolan was simply staring at the devastated hamlet with an expression of pure rage on his face. Stretching out his arms toward Bull Hollow, he let out a cry of anguished fury.

With an answering roar, the spirit of the Bull Hole exploded up out of the common, raining clods of soil and chunks of turf down everywhere. The dolgrims ran and screamed just as hard as the folk of Bull Hollow. Their chatter turned to shrieks and wails, and they scrambled like rats at the elemental lashed out with its rocky fists. Singe saw a dolgrim driven down into the ground, crushed so deep into the soil that it vanished from sight.