T. Church - Return to Canifis

The sounds of violence were growing.

Pia heard Karnac’s voice over the growling of the attackers who jumped around them, hemming them in.

Like dogs rounding up sheep!

A few of the humans had tried to run already, to break away from the main body and flee to the west, but they were the first to be brought down and slain. Harold had broken from the group to try and buy them time, but he had been brutally killed before Karnac or Lord Despaard could run to his aid.

She clutched her brother tightly.

“We’ll get out of this, I promise. We’ll-”

But her words failed. The sight of bodies with their throats torn out or their innards leaking from their stomachs made anything she could say a mockery.

“Gather together!” Karnac shouted. “The river is near!”

One of the werewolves laughed viciously.

“Then who will be the first to try for it? You? There are few among you who would dare fight us. There is no one who can save you.”

Suddenly the spirit woman took Jack by the shoulder.

“I need you, boy,” she said. “Remember what I told you? I will have need of your strength, to draw him to our aid. Come!” She took him forward, and stood squarely before the werewolf. Her actions were so unexpected, Pia was too shocked and afraid to object.

“I count five of them,” Lord Despaard whispered to Karnac. “I might be able to take one with my dagger, but not all of them. Not a chance.”

“Where are Kara and that mage?” Karnac asked bitterly. “Without them we are lost.”

Then the werewolf noticed the two figures who had stepped up.

“What is this? A boy and a hag?” He crouched and drew closer to them. “Come, let us hear your plea. Pick your words with care, for they will be your last.”

They don’t need to rush , Pia knew. They like to torment their victims.

Unless Kara and her friends come, we will die here.

“They will be my last words, wolf, as yours may well be. If you leave us now, you may live. If not, you will die.”

“Is that it? An idle threat?” the creature came so close that it was almost nose-to-nose with the woman. The boy cringed. “I will save you till last, hag, so that you may hear the screams of your family and friends. And before I kill you I will consume the boy there, your grandson perhaps? You will die with his blood on your face.”

Lord Despaard yelled from behind Pia as one of the circling attackers jumped forward, grabbing a woman by her arm and dragging her away from the group. Pia heard her screams as the nobleman ran forward and slashed his dagger across the werewolf’s snout.

“Back woman!” he commanded. “Get back!”

The werewolf turned and ran, yet Lord Despaard was now separated from the group. Coming from both sides two creatures jumped forward, each feinting and ducking while the woman Despaard had rescued darted back to the group.

They will rip him in half, and then we will follow. Where is Kara? Where?

Then from behind her now, the spirit woman gave a great moan, the sound like a huge iron door being opened. Pia heard an animal scream, and she saw how even the werewolves who were closing in on Lord Despaard turned and backed away.

An immense shadow, twice the height of a man, materialised before the spirit woman. It held an object of some sort, though she couldn’t see what it was. Jack was on his knees, breathing hard, sweat upon his brow, looking up at the thing that had appeared.

From nowhere. What is it? How did it-

The shape took a single step forward, the equivalent of three large strides for a tall man. Its back was hunched over, and from its massive shoulders two lines of pale bony spikes ran parallel to its spine. As it moved, the moan sounded again, and as Pia examined it more closely she gasped in amazement.

The whole thing is made of iron!

A gesture from the oracle spurred it into action. It swung its immense torso and Pia saw that it held a huge black double-headed axe. Seeing its face for the first time, she could only think of a bull. The thing took a step to Lord Despaard’s side.

A minotaur! Pia realised. A minotaur made of iron!

The torso swung back now, and the werewolf gave a squeal that was cut short as there was a sound like a butcher’s blade hacking through a thick joint.

“What a contraption!” Pia recognised the gnome’s high-pitched voice from behind.

Then the spirit woman turned and looked with sightless eyes at the remaining four werewolves who had gathered nearby. They gibbered with panic in their own language.

“Let us pass or you will be destroyed,” the woman cried, pointing to them with a gnarled finger, as if she could see.

“Death does not compare to undeath, for that is what Malak will do,” one of the werewolves shouted back.

The iron minotaur ducked its head and drove a deep furrow into the moist earth with a single scrape of its foot. Pia couldn’t be sure, but she imagined that she saw its nostrils flare.

Then it charged.

Its speed must have caught the werewolves off guard, for only two managed to jump aside. Of the remaining two, the first was lifted into the air upon its huge horns, while the second had its skull smashed in a singe deadly jab from the end of its axe haft.

Someone cheered.

But the two that had jumped aside ran forward, passing the giant, making for the spirit woman.

“Move!” Pia shouted to the old woman. But she paid her no heed.

“Remember, Jack,” she said clearly. “Remember what I told you.”

The werewolf’s jaws closed around her throat, dragging her down. The second ran in, its arm flailing out to rake the boy’s face, missing his throat and running across his jawline before it, too, fell upon the spirit woman.

Jack fell to the ground, and Pia began to bolt in his direction, but Despaard stopped her.

“Get behind me,” he said as he pulled her back.

Pia glanced back to the Minotaur, but it had vanished, leaving two werewolf bodies motionless on the ground.

Of course it’s gone! She’s dead. The spirit woman is dead, and she knew she would die.

Jack was pushed to her side by Karnac. The leader of Hope Rock then gestured to the west.

“Go! Run-the river cannot be far now.” He turned to the rest. “We can do it. All of us can.”

The two werewolves abandoned the body of the spirit woman and moved to cut the group off. As they did a ball of orange flame hit one in the back, forcing it to its knees. It screamed as its flesh burned, yet even as it tried to stand Pia saw Kara run forward, her green blade skewering it in one thrust, the tip stabbing down into the soft earth beneath.

Silence fell, and Pia’s heart raced. Then realisation struck her.

We can do it now. We can.

Castimir ran beside Kara, with Sir Theodore and Doric watching their backs. The knight ran awkwardly, grimacing each time his right foot bore his weight. In the centre came Arisha, her short bow drawn.

Only one werewolf remained to confront them now.

“Stand aside or be slain,” Karnac commanded.

“I cannot. I dare not. Malak will take far more than my life from me if I do.”

The werewolf charged in with a screaming howl. Arisha loosed her arrow which stuck in the creature’s shoulder, but it barely slowed. Kara was running forward, too, and Lord Despaard, with his two-pronged dagger held before him. A searing jet of flame overtook them, passing them to intercept the desperate werewolf, the flames driving it back.

It thrashed upon the ground in agony as Pia smelled the burning flesh.

“Kill me,” the werewolf moaned. “Kill me, or Malak will do far worse…”