The Hunt in the Mist I

The Hunt in the Mist I

My sons! Overlord Avernix roared.

The camp was in chaos.

Warriors ran to and fro, eager to make themselves useful lest they catch their sovereigns wrath. The air was thick with the tang of blood. Light rain pattered on Eppons tents roof and a great line of standing crosses beyond. Upon them hung the crucified bodies of Avernixs sons personal guard. After so great a failure, the overlord had no use for them. Had Lukotor not been engaged, he would have had him feed them to the hungriest of demons.

Before him lay his two heirs, one dead and the other bewitched and maimed.

A villains hand had carved the Garric word for Coward deep into Eppons chest, though the insult was now hidden by reddened bandages. Were it not for the strange magic holding him in unnatural slumber, he likely would have bled to death in the night. Lukotor the Wise bent over the bewitched Eppon, working to break the spell as he had been for the entirety of this day. Acrid herbs burned in a vessel at his side and strange words tumbled from his mouth.

Theyve shamed them! Avernixs voice cracked toward the evening sky. He looked down upon the ashen face of Agisil, whose eyes were now sealed in death. Not in all my years of warring has there ever been such humiliation! Who did this!? Who!?

My Overlord! A runner burst through the crosses. We found a trail!

The conqueror snarled. Where?

Into the forest, lord.

Lukotor looked up sharply. The words of power spilled from the wizards mouth faster. A final syllable smote the air and the sleeping Eppon stiffened and - with a groan - came to wakefulness.

The groan quickly turned to screams.

There was a sudden stench of rot as the Bear-Breakers flesh cracked and putrefied. Old scars bubbled into boils and burst in foulness. Gore ran from split skin. His nails tore back from his fingers and toes. He writhed and mewled like an infant.

Do something! Avernix cried, but Lukotor could only stare on as the hidden curse finished its grim work. When it was over, the giant was curled up sobbing. His flesh was a ruin of sores and lesions as though hed somehow lived through a dozen poxes.

The bastards hid a curse in the bewitchment. Lukotor swiftly drew crushed leaves from one of his pouches and began to sprinkle them into the new wounds. Eppon moaned piteously. The dangers passed by my craft. He peered at the wounds critically before making a noise of disgust. But these will scar badly.

Theyve maimed him twice! Spittle flew from Avernixs lips. Look at him, Lukotor! Is this how my rule begins? With one son dead and the other made a monster?

Lukotor finished salving Eppons abscesses then drew up to his full, towering height. Weve got greater and more immediate problems, overlord. If theyve gone into the forest, then theyve learned of the egg.

His dark eyes narrowed. Two of his tablets were missing.

Greater problems? My sons have been ruined and you cry about a bauble? Avernixs hands balled into fists.

Lukotors lip twitched and he gestured to Eppon. This was the work of vile magic, and if the wizard who did this claims the egg, then all its fell power will be at their call. We have to move quickly, or this will only be the beginning of our catastrophes.

Avernixs face blanched, then washed as scarlet as his beard. Can you track them with your spells?

With some preparation. I will need the aid of The Three at this distance: they will want additional sacrifices.

You will have them, Avernix pronounced grimly. A score. A hundred if need be.

Then killers will be found. I swear to you.

A hand grasped Avernixs ankle. Fatherlet mekill them.

Who did this? The conqueror crouched over his son

A dark manwith eyes like blood. And a womanI did not see her.

Did you get anything of theirs? Lukotor snarled through his tangle of teeth. A bit of hair? Blood?

Nono

The old mans face turned to thunder. Did you not fight back at all, boy?

Theysnuck in while I slept.

Lukotor was already marching toward his tent in disgust. I need to start preparations, my overlord. Ill inform you when all is ready.

With haste, Lukotor, commanded Avernix.

Surrounding her muddy cloth-wrapped foot was a naked footprint five times larger than her own. The toes were clawed. There was another print far ahead, revealing a stride longer than she was tall. Her eyes found another beside a tree with a symbol scratched into the bark. A hideous face with too many horns. Theyd been so tired earlier theyd completely missed it.

Shit Her eyes followed the tracks until they disappeared into the mist. Shitshit shit shit shit! Kyembe! Kyembe!

Stop shouting!

She looked up. The Sengezian was as high up on the tree as Cas tower had been, but descended the thick bark as though his life depended on it.

Kyembe theres- she paused. -Whats wrong?

They found us! Their hounds are with them!

A chill ran through her. Those beasts had looked like demons. How many?

Perhaps a score, and half again that in hunters! he cried, dropping to the earth.

Thirty?! Her lips tightened.

She heard faint barking resound from the south.

Kyembe. She pointed to the print. We have other problems too.

He gaped and crouched over it, measuring the depth with his little finger. Its tread sinks deep into the earth he murmured. It might be ten times my weight. And the track is fresh. A few hours old at most. He looked to the marking in the wood. That looks to be a territory marker.

The pair looked at each other, then to the fog, turning in a circle as though surrounded by hidden enemies. Titanic trunks loomed from the mist, hinting at things unknown hidden behind their backs.

The barking drew closer.

Kyembe cursed. I was foolish to miss these, but we will have to worry about them later. He brought his ring to his lips and muttered words of power before casting his hand east, then west. Both directions were filled with sounds of running across root and earth, followed by cries that were eerily like their own voices. That should mislead their ears and eyes. It will slow them, but we have to move quickly! He peered at the fog. The tracks made for the west. We will bear north. Come! We might lose our pursuers in the mist!

The ground lay uneven and slick from recent rains beneath their feet. Muck sucked down their steps and their feet slid on wet rocks. More than once Wurhi stumbled, trying to keep pace with the long-limbed Sengezian. She was sorry she hadnt changed. She could be scampering faster on four legs than on two.

Sounds of shaking bush and the crack of branch and twig echoed from all directions. Birds alighted from their perches and enormous branches creaked in the wind high above the earth. The Zabyallan quickly lost track of where they were running, desperately focusing on keeping Kyembes starry robe in front of her. Her heart pounded in her ears. The mist thickened and the air grew colder. A river roared somewhere ahead in the fog.

The sounds of their pursuers grew clearer.

Faint barking sharpened. Shouts of men and women could be heard.

Theyre closing on us! Wurhi cried.

Her skin shuddered as though doused in crawling vermin. She felt eyes on her from all directions and a strange buzzing filled her ears. All the while, hers and the Sengezians illusionary shouts continued to recede west and east.

Why arent they being fooled?! she panted. It worked on the dogs in Cas gardens!

Something walks with them! Kyembe vaulted a giant root and landed lightly without slowing. Can you feel it? Like a hundred eyes are on us? Their tribes demons are guiding them!

The hounds bayed again. Perhaps only a hundred paces away.

We cant keep running! Wurhi skidded to a halt and pointed to the closest verdant giant. Climb up there!

She started for the vine wrapped trunk.

Wurhi, down! Kyembe pushed her to the ground.

A great shadow sailed over her, the air whistling in its passing.

The hound crashed down into the brush and glared back with an unnatural malice. Its rumbling growl shook Wurhi to her bones, and spittle running from snarling jaws shone in the mist. Its teeth gnashed together but Kyembe was already lifting his ring, which shone with white hellfire. Burns ran up his arm as the terrible substance extracted its price. In deep concentration his jaw tightened against the pain.

He never heard the second one.

Crunch.

The beast galloped from the mist, its jaws clamping on Kyembes forearm.

His scream filled the forest.