Chris Evans - A Darkness Forged in Fire

"What about now?"

Teeter frowned and tried to shush Scolly to no avail.

Yimt growled something under his breath and stomped another centipede. Alwyn took a quick look around to see if any of the elves were watching, assuming that they would not approve of one of nature's creatures being dispatched in such a fashion, but none were visible at the moment.

"Well? Are we?" Scolly asked again.

It was, and of this Alwyn was quite certain, the one hundredth time.

Yimt reached for his right thigh, then banged his fist against it. Alwyn knew he was wishing he had his drukar.

The dwarf looked over at Alwyn and shook his head.

"It's not the heat, it's the stupidity."

Alwyn smiled, but it wasn't easy. The heat was taking a toll on him, especially with his chest still throbbing with pain. He took another sip from the gourd and immediately felt a little better. The problem was that his gourd was nearly empty, and they still had a long night of marching ahead of them…and Scolly.

"Well?"

Yimt cursed and tugged so hard on his beard that strands of it came away in his hand.

"Scolly, for the last bloody time, I'll tell you when we're there. Do you see any magical stars? Does this look like a fort on a hill by a river?" Yimt asked, waving his hand around at the trees.

Scolly looked around and finally nodded as if he understood, but everyone knew five minutes later he'd be asking the same questions again. He was terrified of the forest. If they ever found Kritton, the elf had a lot to answer for. The trees for their part did not look particularly dangerous, though they were strange. One gray-barked variety had fist-sized orange-and-black-spotted fruit in clusters of three growing right out of the trunk. Then there was the kind Yimt had dubbed "Weeping Whipper" for the thread-thin leaves that dangled over the path, the tips barbed and perfect for getting tangled in beards. It made Alwyn think of home and the great bushy chestnut trees, snow-white birches, and great maples that had harbored nothing more fierce than a squirrel guarding its winter hoard.

"What about now?"

"Oh, that tears it, laddie," Yimt growled, grabbing the stock of his shatterbow and taking a step toward Scolly. Chayii suddenly appeared in front of Yimt and gently placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. With her other, she put a finger to her lips.

Alwyn stopped where he was and motioned for Inkermon and Teeter to freeze. They already had, the elves of the Long Watch having appeared all around them. While the soldiers stuck to a winding game trail through the forest on their way to Luuguth Jor, the elves-two dozen, Alwyn reckoned, although it was hard to get an exact count-had taken to the forest itself, moving between the trees without making a sound, at least not any he could hear. He wasn't sure, but he thought some of them were actually in the branches, too, leaping from limb to limb above them. Every time he thought he sensed something and looked up, however, there was nothing to see but leaves. He checked those, too, praying he would never see another frost-burnt leaf for the rest of their journey, and the rest of his life.

"What is it?" Yimt asked, his whisper barely distinguishable from his regular voice.

Chayii chirped softly to Irkila, who notched an arrow in her longbow faster than Alwyn could follow. She took two steps off the path and melted into the forest. Alwyn blinked, trying to see where she went, but the leaf canopy blocked out too much moonlight for his poor eyesight. He'd never find her, he realized, when something made him turn.

There, not thirty yards down the path they had just come, standing in a pile of excavated dirt near a gaping hole, was another creature from his granny's bedtime story collection-a korwird.

Alwyn was so surprised he never even thought to unsling his musket. Korwird, like rakkes, were supposed to be extinct.

He squinted and shook his head, trying to get a better look. When he finally did, he wished he hadn't.

It looked very much like the centipedes Yimt had been stepping on, except that this one was twenty feet long and had a pointed snout filled with needle-sharp teeth. Its body was covered in shimmering black and green scales, making its milky white eyes all the more terrifying to look at.

The korwird took a few steps forward. Alwyn's stomach lurched. Each leg moved in rhythm with the other like oars on a long boat, propelling it forward at a quick, jerky pace, accompanied by a harsh, staccato clicking sound. The creature swept its snout back and forth just above the forest path, sniffing the dirt. Large gleaming streams of drool hung from its mouth and dragged along the ground. Wherever they touched, vapor spumed into the air, and Alwyn instinctively knew it must be poisonous.

An arrow sliced through the darkness and embedded itself in the korwird's right eye. The creature reared up onto its back legs and shrieked in pain, spraying its lethal venom everywhere. Several more arrows flew out of the shadows at the exposed belly of the beast, but these bounced off the scales without effect.

Fully enraged and still able to see out of one eye, the korwird crashed back down onto all of its legs and shot up the path directly toward Alwyn. Its body made a series of rapid S movements as it came on, the noise of its many legs as loud as a flight of cicadas. More arrows bounced off the korwird's scales, but none seemed to penetrate. Alwyn stumbled backward, unslinging his musket as he did so. He heard shouts and felt hands grabbing his arm, but all his attention was focused on the nightmare racing toward him faster than he could run. The korwird got to within four feet of Alwyn and opened its mouth wide, ready to take a bite out of his exposed legs.

"Back to the fiery pits with you and walk this earth no more!" shouted Inkermon, stepping in front of him. He held a small white book in his right hand and held out from his body like a shield.

Alwyn wasn't sure who was more surprised, himself or the korwird. The creature backed up several paces, its mouth still open wide, its teeth glistening with venom.

"Back I say!" Inkermon continued, his eyes bulging, his lips flecked with spittle. "Your infernal presence is an affront to all that is good and decent! Your fiendish master has sinned against all that is right and pure! Go back whence you came and trouble us no more!"

The korwird seemed to consider this for a moment, then lunged for Inkermon.

Two muskets fired from somewhere just behind Alwyn. His eardrums rattled as acrid smoke billowed around him, obscuring his vision. He heard two loud smacks as the musket balls found their mark. A moment later, he was able to see the korwird in front of him: one large hole in its neck, another in its back, two of its legs now dangling loosely on its left side. It clutched Inkermon's white book between its teeth, while Inkermon was scrabbling up a tree.

The korwird shrieked, spitting out the book and darting forward again.

As Alwyn prepared to club the korwird with his musket, there was a familiar, heavy twang and two black arrows whistled past him, piercing the upper bone of the korwird's mouth and lodging deep within its brain. Its head slammed to the ground, but the legs on its body continued to move, each thrashing madly, twisting the korwird into a ragged circle.

Chayii calmly approached the body, drawing a slender sword from its scabbard as she did so. The faint whisper of a voice both old and wise filled the air. At first, it filled Alwyn with a sense of peace and kindness, but it suddenly grew to be something far more deadly. The voice roared as Chayii sliced the head of the creature clean off with one fluid stroke. She held the blade up to the moonlight and eyed the edge. There wasn't a mark on it. Patting the flat of the blade, she resheathed it and the voice went silent. Alwyn banged a hand against his ear and looked back at the korwird. The legs had stopped moving and the korwird now lay perfectly still. For a moment, the only sound to be heard was the gentle hiss of its venom eating away at the leaves of the trees around them.