Mark Chadbourn - Destroyer of Worlds

A second shape, this time to his left, though blurred as if in a state of flux. Another, and another. They were all around, but they didn't appear to be circling him. Perhaps they were as snow-blind as he was.

How many? he thought.

Stock-still, he listened and watched for any sign of movement. But then his attention fell on Jack's rapidly blurring footprints, and he realised he would lose the trail if he waited too long. Without a second thought, he drove on, fast and low.

He'd barely gone twenty feet when the ground shook with a thunderous approach behind him. Without looking back, he threw himself to one side, burying himself deep in a drift. He had the impression of something almost eight feet tall crashing by, a glimpse of gleaming, oily black skin, and then it was gone.

Hunter moved quickly back onto the trail. More of the beasts converged upon the location, the ground shaking from their movement, their shapes passing through the intense whirl of white like massive ships in a sea fog.

One of them came out of the blizzard directly at him. A sword-like limb with a serrated edge slashed, but he ducked just beneath it and kept running. It turned rapidly and pursued — too late, for the snow had already swallowed him.

The footprints he was following were more defined: he was closing on Jack. If, by some slight chance, he was still alive. The rising ground crested a ridge and descended into a hollow filled with boulders. Scree shifted under the snow beneath his boots. The rocks allowed him some cover as he ducked and raced amongst them. Occasionally, the black creatures loomed over him, sparks flying as their limbs scraped against the stone. Each time he glimpsed one, his perception changed: he thought they were giant insects, then lizards, then something resembling a crab crossed with a piece of machinery.

And then the footprints ahead disappeared.

He ranged around, hearing the beasts crash closer amidst low, rumbling noises that he guessed was some form of communication. He had convinced himself that Jack had already been killed when he heard the boy's quiet voice: 'Hunter.'

Ducking down, Hunter found Jack pressed into a crevice in the rock wall, beneath an overhanging boulder. The boy's face was as white as the snow, his eyes ranging with a deep-seated fear. Hunter quickly pressed himself into the crevice, shielding Jack's shaking body from the roaming creatures.

'Nice spot — room with a view,' he whispered. 'Don't worry. We're going to be all right.'

'What are they?' Jack said.

'Whatever they are, they're not the smartest or they'd have methodically tracked us down by now.'

One of the beasts tore past their hiding pace. Jack flinched, then calmed himself. 'I'm all right.'

'I know you are.' Delving into his pack, Hunter found the silver-scaled, brass-taloned Balor Claw.

'What's that?' Jack hissed.

'A weapon.'

'You can't use it here! There are too many of them. You won't last a minute.'

Hunter couldn't tell Jack he had it ready for a last stand, to take one or two of the creatures with them. 'I'm just keeping it where I can see it,' he said with a grin.

'I can't feel my feet,' Jack said.

'Just a little while longer. They'll move away soon when they realise they can't find us.' Hunter tried to sound reassuring, but he knew if they stayed in the crevice much longer they'd freeze to death; and they wouldn't stand a chance if they ventured out amongst the hunting creatures. Beyond that, the tracks back to the rest of the group would probably have been lost.

Jack's lips were already turning blue, and the familiar signs of hypothermia were evident in his skin and breathing. Hunter pulled the boy close to him and wrapped his arms around him. 'Forget the whole "men don't hug" thing,' he said. 'This is about staying warm. We'll be fine. We'll be out of here in no time.'

The Court of the Soaring Spirit felt empty without Mallory, Caitlin and the others. Decebalus stood outside Doctor Jay's lab for long minutes, mulling over his new role as leader of the Army of Dragons, happy to accept the responsibility, although missing the camaraderie of his friends. He barely spared a thought for the gently pulsing light and the noise grinding out from the sealed room. The Caraprix were not a threat, he had decided, and so they were an irrelevance.

Weighing his strategy carefully, he sought out the sorcerer Math in his shadowy rooms.

'I have never met a sorcerer who has not deserved to be hacked into bloody chunks,' the barbarian said as he watched the slowly turning mask. 'You will be happy to know that in this matter I have learned some restraint from my good friends. But only some. So hear me out.'

The mask turned. Math said nothing.

'The Enemy approaches. My forces are strong, but a good general always keeps something in reserve. I need… something. Possibly magickal. And I want it to be a response that will take their breath away to such a degree they will never return.'

Math contemplated for a moment, and then said, 'How far do you intend to go?'

Decebalus grinned.

'Should we go after Hunter?' Ruth ventured.

'There's no point doing anything until this blizzard lifts,' Church replied. 'We could be stamping around in circles and getting nowhere.'

Laura's face was emotionless. 'He'll be fine. He's tougher than you bunch of wimps.' She turned away from them quickly.

Shavi suddenly became animated, involuntarily clutching at his alien eye.

'What's wrong?' Veitch asked.

'Hurry! We must leave this place immediately!' Shavi said urgently. 'Something is coming!'

Church peered into the blizzard as faint tremors ran through the ground, growing stronger. 'Okay, let's move on.'

'What about Hunter?' Laura snapped. 'If we leave here, he'll never find us.'

'He'll find us. He's good.'

Tom grabbed Church's arm as they struggled up the slope. 'I don't like this. There have always been terrible things in this place.' The words died in his throat as one of the beasts emerged from the snow behind them. Inky black, at first glance it resembled a giant spider, rising up above them on long, sharp legs that looked as if they were made of iron. It wavered for a second so they felt they were under the scrutiny of a cold, alien intellect, and then it began to change. Armoured plates resembling an insect's carapace unfolded out of the black body and locked into place. Spikes and a horned ridge emerged, along with other razor-sharp appendages.

'Bloody hell!' Veitch gasped. 'Fomorii!'

The others scrambled up the incline as fast as they could, but Miller continued to gape. Veitch hit him like a runaway train and propelled him away. 'Stand still, you're dead,' Veitch hissed. 'They're killing machines.'

The way became much steeper, littered with outcropping rocks and huge boulders that made it difficult to advance. Behind them, the Fomor raced only feet away. Breath burned in their lungs as they wound around the obstacles.

Echoing through the howling gale came the sounds of more Fomorii joining the pursuit, a haunting, deep call and response that became more frenzied, as though the creatures recognised their prey.

They came up hard against a cliff rising high over their heads. A path wound around the foot of it, barely wide enough for one person, with the ground plummeting away steeply.

As Veitch and Miller passed the last boulder before the path began, they caught a glimpse of someone crouching out of sight. When the Fomor pounded up behind them, Church jumped out at the last and swung Caledfwlch in an arc, a trail of Blue Fire sizzling through the snow. Sparks flew as the blade hacked into one of the creature's front legs. As the creature half-rounded on Church, it lost its balance. With a roar, Church rammed into it with the sword, bracing against the boulder and levering it onto the slippery, snow-covered slope. The Fomor hovered for a second and then went crashing down until it was lost in the swirling snow.