Don Bassingthwaite - The tyranny of ghosts

“It’s going to be close,” Chetiin said tersely.

Ekhaas looked up at him. “Is the construct following our path?”

He nodded-and Geth saw Ekhaas spin around and dart back. “Ekhaas!” he shouted after her. “Don’t!”

His sudden twist threw Tenquis off balance. “Careful!” the tiefling yelped, and for a moment all of Geth’s attention was on keeping himself and Tooth upright.

When he looked up again, he saw the outer wall of Suud Anshaar ahead, a wide gap in its dark length shining like a beacon in the moonlight.

Ekhaas’s song rose up somewhere behind them. A wail from the thing that pursued them rose to greet it.

He ground his teeth together and made for the wall. Chetiin dropped down and ran ahead of them. Ekhaas’s song faded — and a moment later, footsteps came racing up behind them. Geth stared as Ekhaas slowed to a quick walk alongside him. She flicked her ears.

“I didn’t get close,” she said before he could speak. “I just put an obstacle in its path.”

A new note of confusion and fury entered the construct’s wail. Geth heard the crash of stones and imagined the thing struggling to advance on ground that was suddenly slippery. “How long will the spell hold it back?” he asked.

“That depends on how long it takes for it figure out it can go around-”

The wail stopped. Ekhaas cursed. Geth guessed that she’d bought them maybe fifteen or twenty extra paces. He hoped it was enough. The ground between them and the wall was blessedly clear of rubble. He moved as quickly as he dared. Tenquis matched his pace. The gap in the wall drew closer… closer…

The wail burst out again. Geth turned his head just a little and saw a tentacle-crowned head rise above a mound. Stones fell and walls toppled in the construct’s wake as it sped forward.

“Watch your feet!” said Ekhaas. Loose rubble filled the base of the gap. Geth clambered up onto it, dragging Tooth with him. Tenquis followed. Ekhaas put a shoulder against Tooth’s lower back and pushed. The bugbear stumbled and fell. Geth cursed.

“Lift!” he ordered. He released Tenquis’s arm and flipped Tooth around so that he could get his hands under his shoulders. Tenquis and Ekhaas took the hunter’s legs and together they staggered to the top of the rubble heap.

The construct surged into the open space before the wall. Moonlight flashed on its glittering hide and the sharp tips of its stone tentacles. Its grinding and its wails merged into a single horrible noise. Geth’s stomach rose. They were on the downward slope of the rubble, just barely beyond the walls. Even if the construct was bound to Suud Anshaar, those tentacles could still reach them.

“Keep moving.” A small, lithe form darted past him. Chetiin raced up the rubble, up the broken edge of the wall, to prance before the construct. “Here!” he shouted as best as his strained voice would allow. “Here!”

Geth forced himself to keep moving, step after step away from the wall. “A little farther,” he growled, “a little farther.” He spoke encouragement to Ekhaas and Tenquis, but he knew in his gut that he was really talking to himself. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the scene above as Chetiin bounced and danced, making a target of himself.

And the construct took the bait. It struck like a snake, whipping its entire body forward. Tentacles stabbed at Chetiin. The old goblin tumbled over one, whirled past another, ducked under a third, and spun back to face the construct-just as a fourth tentacle lanced directly at him. Geth’s breath caught.

The tentacle chipped and skittered against stone. Chetiin was simply… gone.

A heartbeat later, he burst out of the shadows at the base of the ruined wall and came racing down the hill. Silence fell on the night. Stomach churning, Geth looked back up at the ruin.

The construct filled the gap, staring down at them, its tentacles calmed to a sluggish, almost inaudible writhing. Then, with an inhuman abruptness, it turned and slithered away as if it knew it couldn’t reach them and that they were therefore unworthy of its attention.

Geth eased Tooth to the ground, then sank down into a squat himself. It took a long moment before he could do anything but suck in great gulps of the hot night air. Finally he looked up Chetiin. “How-?” he asked.

“A secret of the shaarat’khesh,” Chetiin said. For the first time Geth could remember, Chetiin sounded winded. “Although that isn’t exactly the way it’s normally used.”

A shadow broke away from the dark line of the jungle’s edge and came trotting toward them across the barren hill. Marrow gave a soft, excited yip. Chetiin smiled. “The varags are running!” he said. “It sounds like whatever rage they worked up to come back and try to ambush us didn’t survive actually getting a look at the construct. I don’t think they’ll be coming near the ruins again any time soon.”

“Thank the sorcerer-kings,” groaned Tenquis.

Geth took another deep breath, then stood up. Or tried to. The muscles in his legs spasmed as he rose, and he almost fell over before he found Tenquis’s shoulder for support. His arms and hands were trembling too-but then again, they’d all risen early that morning, hiked through jungle, fought and fled from the varags, then fled again from the construct of Suud Anshaar. It was small wonder he was trembling and exhausted. And it was probably a good thing the varags had run away. He couldn’t have managed more than a dozen strokes with Wrath before the sword fell from his hands.

“Geth?” asked Ekhaas.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. He glanced around at the others. They all looked as tired as he felt, even Marrow. His lips twitched and he smiled, then laughed. Tenquis turned to stare at him.

“Have you snapped?” he asked.

Geth shook his head, pushed away from the tiefling, and wiped at his eyes with hands that were sticky with blood and dust. “Before we went into the ruins, I asked Tooth if he’d want to sleep here.” He nodded toward the jungle. “Let’s get under cover, then find a place to rest. Even if that construct starts wailing again, I’m going to sleep like the dead.”

The heat of sunlight on his face drew Geth slowly back toward wakefulness in the little clearing they’d found in the jungle. Vague memories of dreams clung to him-skeletal black serpents that chased after him while notched disks rolled across the night sky in place of moons. He shook the memories off, rising into a place of calm and well-being, where Ekhaas sang lullabies that shook buildings to ruins, Chetiin rode Marrow through shadows, and Tooth swung his grinders with both hands. They’d escaped Suud Anshaar. The varags had fled. It was good. He tried to will himself back down into sleep.

“Geth.”

Sleep evaded him. Tenquis was there, mouthing words that Geth couldn’t quite hear. Geth tried to answer, but his words wouldn’t come out either.

“Geth, wake up.”

Tenquis slid away. A shadow passed between Geth and the sun. Something cold burned across his throat. Adolan’s collar? No, it was too thin. Too sharp. He felt a sickening sensation of danger.

Any sense of calm vanished. His eyes opened wide to sunlight filtered through the canopy of the jungle. Instantly a hand pressed against his forehead. “Move,” said a rich, calm voice from somewhere above his head, “and you’ll cut your own throat.”

Sudden waking blurred his thoughts. He knew that voice, but it was so utterly out of place that he couldn’t identify it. He knew it was telling the truth, though. The cold at his throat was the edge of a knife. Geth forced his body to lie still and rolled his eyes back as far as he could to try and see who held him.

Midian Mit Davandi leaned into his field of vision. “Good morning,” he said.