James Wyatt - In the Claws of the Tiger

“Dead before?” Janik said, looking up at Mathas. “Undead?”

“Krael and the necromancer probably killed them all at the first dawn,” the elf answered. “So they could keep marching day and night.”

“Carrying the necromancer in the palanquin,” Dania added. “And probably carrying Krael as well, at least during the day.”

“And the warforged could walk forever without getting tired,” Janik said, “just like these poor bastards.” He kicked absently at a shield near his feet. “I guess the ones we killed on the beach really did have the easy job.”

“So now we know how they got so far ahead of us,” Auftane said, still hanging back at the edge of the carnage. He looked at Janik. “We should move along now, shouldn’t we?”

Janik laughed. “Why, Auftane! What are you doing back there? Come on into the thick of things.”

“Well, you didn’t give me any instructions, so I figured I’d … keep watch?”

Nearly drowning out the dwarf’s last words, a horn blasted a loud, low note from the ruined tower. At the same time, two brawny figures leaped down from the cliff above them, heavy swords flashing in the sunlight. Janik recognized the sound he had heard in the rain three weeks before. But he had little time to think about it as a sword flashed toward him.

Dania sprang forward and interposed her shield between the scimitar and Janik’s head, and Janik reeled backward, getting his first good look at their attackers. They stood a hand’s length taller than him, and were clad in heavy armor formed of overlapping metal scales. Their swords had cruel teeth along one edge, and their shields bore spiked edges, making them as much weapons as defensive tools. Beneath their pointed helmets, the faces of tigers snarled in a blood fury.

Janik glanced at Mathas and saw that the elf was deep in concentration on a spell. Dania’s sword was dancing furiously with the blade of one creature, and she seemed to have the duel under control. Meanwhile, the other had charged toward Auftane, who was startled and stumbling backward, away from the creature’s assault. Janik raced to help the artificer.

Despite his reluctance to enter the field of bones and his initial surprise at the creature’s charge, Auftane recovered by the time Janik reached him and was battling in fine form. He swung his mace hard at the creature’s head just as Janik arrived, and Janik drove his short sword into a gap in the creature’s armor at its shoulder.

The blow should have drawn a huge gout of blood and crippled the creature’s sword arm. Janik felt his thrust pushed back, however, almost as if some magic within the thing’s body repelled the metal of his sword. It bled, so Janik knew it was a living creature, but he could tell he would need more than a few well-placed blows to take it down. Auftane’s hard swing also seemed less damaging than it should have been.

As the creature roared and sidestepped away from him and the dwarf, Janik stole a quick glance over his shoulder at Dania. She was having a little more luck piercing her foe’s hide, but not much. Mathas seemed to have done better-the other creature looked a little scorched from one of the elf’s spells.

“What are we dealing with here?” Auftane called out.

The faces of tigers. Something fell into place in Janik’s mind, and he shouted, “These are fiends of Khyber!”

As he turned his attention back to the fiend nearer to him, Janik heard Dania say, “Then let’s see how you like a taste of holy power, fiend!” Her sword struck like a peal of thunder against her opponent, and the creature roared in pain and rage.

Janik dodged a great sweep of his foe’s sword, but the clawlike spikes on the creature’s shield raked his arm as he tumbled out of the way. “Damn!” he muttered as he thrust his sword toward the fiend’s shield arm. His blow was almost an afterthought and barely grazed the creature’s orange fur.

“Holy power, eh?” Auftane murmured, stepping backward out of the creature’s reach while its attention was focused on Janik.

“Got any of that in your wands there, Auftane?” Janik said. Even as he spoke, though, he saw the dwarf using his fingertip to trace symbols on the wooden shaft of his mace. As Janik feinted and parried the fiend’s much heavier sword, Auftane stepped forward again, swinging another powerful blow at the creature’s tigerlike head.

This blow mattered, Janik was sure-the dwarf’s mace crackled with power as it connected, and Auftane carried his swing through in a stream of crimson. The fiend staggered and snarled. It kept its feet, but Janik had the clear sense that it lacked the strength to roar.

He took the opportunity to drive his sword into its gaping mouth. He placed the strike perfectly, and the blow should have killed the fiend in an instant, but somehow, the blade refused to cut. He might as well have been stabbing the creature with a feather.

Snarling, the fiend bit down on Janik’s blade, holding it tightly between its teeth. In the instant before Janik realized what was happening and he released his grip on the hilt, the fiend swung its shield into Janik’s ribcage with crushing force, sending him sprawling backward to the ground. It spat the sword onto the ground and stepped forward, raising its cruel blade over its head.

A blast of brilliant light engulfed the fiend, accompanied by a deafening clap of thunder. When Janik’s vision cleared, he saw the fiend still standing over him, but its sword had slipped from its hand and its eyes were rolled back in its head. Behind it, he could see Mathas standing near Dania, looking with satisfaction at the result of his lightning spell. The fiend slumped to the ground, joining its companion in oblivion.

“Sea of Fire,” Janik muttered, struggling to his feet. “Let’s not do that again. Suppose there are more of those?”

“Someone blew that horn,” Auftane said, handing Janik his sword.

“You’re right,” Janik said as they walked over to Mathas and Dania. “I think I heard the same horn three weeks ago, if that’s possible.”

“Low sounds like that can travel quite far,” Mathas said.

Dania looked puzzled. “Could Krael have been that far ahead of us?” she asked.

Janik buried his fingers in his hair. “If they were really traveling day and night without ever stopping, I suppose they could.”

Dania used her foot to roll the nearer fiend onto its back, looking at its tigerlike face matted with blood. “So these things attacked Krael and his party here, probably three weeks ago, when you heard that horn, Janik. The skeleton soldiers probably fell quickly, and the necromancer died.”

“But Krael and the warforged escaped,” Janik said, scowling.

“That seems most likely,” Mathas said. “Although perhaps they were captured.”

“What I most dislike about this,” Dania said, “is the horn. Somebody blew it, obviously, which means more of these fiends are probably in that tower. But more to the point-”

“Somebody was meant to hear it,” Auftane said.

“Exactly,” Dania said. “Which suggests we’ve just found an outpost of a little fiend kingdom.”

“Janik,” said Auftane, “how far are we from Mel-Aqat?”

“From Mel-Aqat?” Janik pulled the sheaf of parchments from his pack and produced his map. He held his little finger up to the map, then compared it to the map’s scale. “About a hundred and fifty miles,” he said.

“A hundred and fifty miles of barren desert,” Mathas added. “Probably three weeks of travel.”

“Three weeks …” Auftane mused. “And you heard the horn three weeks ago, right?”

“You think the horn could be signaling someone in Mel-Aqat,” Janik said. “I think you might be right.”