shadows. She went down on all fours to crawl, hoping the thing wouldn't see her before she reached the weapon.
Rings waved his torch like a flag, trying to distract the fiend from its prey. The captured sailor turned toward the dwarf, shaking his head to warn him away. Then the big tail swept out, more powerful than a loose boom in a storm. Sharessa heard the solid blow and saw her friend fall limp as an empty sack. His torch sputtered on the wet ground and died beside him.
She heard her own gasp and stopped. The fiend hesitated, too, looking around slowly. Its face looked even more like a skull where it stood bathed in a shaft of moonlight. Its eyes moved toward where she crept in the darkness. Then the sailor spat a curse as foul as the fiend's breath and lashed out in futile struggle.
'Go ahead, you bastard! Do it! Do it!'
The man was brave. Sharessa saw his fingers seek the fiend's throat, even as the monster's claws scrabbled across his stubbly face. Then the curved claws found the man's eyes and thrust deeply. There wasn't enough time for a scream, only the fiend's howling laughter.
Sharessa scrambled for the sword, abandoning silence. All she could think about was the fiend's hot breath in her own face, its claws scratching upon her skin before tearing in and breaking her open. She grabbed at the ground, her hands feeling stones and soil and branches. She heard the frantic drum of her heart, the rush of blood throbbing in her ears. Her hands kept moving, rocks scraping her fingers, vines entangling them. Then she felt a light touch upon her shoulder. She smelled decaying flesh and brimstone.
But she also felt Brindra's sword beneath her knee.
Sharessa turned slowly and smoothly, her back upon the ground. The fiend straddled her, one hand on either side. It barely allowed its own body to brush against her, bearing down as gently as a lover.
Sharessa pressed herself against the ground, shrinking almost demurely. The fiend cooed and mewled, its arms curling around her from either side, almost tender in its mockery of seduction. Sharessa's hand extended slowly beside her thigh, reaching. She gagged from the stench, closing her eyes lest the moonlight reveal its face and she scream.
Her fingers reached the sword just as the fiend's arms closed tightly around her. She felt its jagged teeth on her cheek. She drew back her arm and pressed the point of the blade against its belly.
'Back to hell,' she said, shoving Brindra's sword deep into the monster. The fiend bucked and shrieked, and Sharessa felt its steaming ichor wash over her arms. She thrust again, pulling up to find the monster's heart. Its claws savaged her back, raking deep wounds, but still she held tight, forcing the blade deeper still.
Then the screaming stopped. The fiend's grip evaporated, and the creature crashed to the ground like a rotten tree.
Chapter Eight
When one of them stumbled, another was there to help. Belmer even took a turn carrying Ingrar, who had fallen deeply asleep again. Anvil had let the boy go reluctantly.
'And who'll carry your heavy carcass when you drop dead of exhaustion?' Sharessa had said.
None of them spoke of Brindra, but Rings was obviously thinking of nothing else. The usually cheerful dwarf stared grimly ahead, marching as if into death rather than away from it. Sharessa knew how he felt, but her own sadness was mingled with the joy of survival. She tried to think of those who lived rather than those who had died.
They stopped to rest often, first in rolling meadows, later in cultivated fields. They were coming closer to the city.
'You can spend a day to recuperate,' Belmer said. 'That will give me the time I need to learn the city.' Sharessa wondered whether his decision was based solely on expediency. She liked to think that their employer had come to care about the others as she did. She hoped Belmer had become a Sharker.
The sun was high and bright by the time they reached the city gates. Eldrinpar was far better fortified than Sharessa had remembered, but she had always visited by sea before. When she saw higher walls and new battlements, she thought of the fiends they had faced last night. If the bloodforges continued to draw the monsters to Doegan, how long could the city withstand them?
'If we are questioned at the gate, we were caravan guards,' said Belmer. 'The fiends attacked us between here and-what is the name?'
'Parsanic,' said Anvil.
'Parsanic,' agreed Belmer. 'We don't have time for questions about Redbeard and the Morning Bird. I want to locate the bloodforge and get on with it.'
'You mean the woman,' said Belgin, smiling faintly.
'That, too,' said Belmer. His own smile was brief and businesslike. 'But also the bloodforge.'
Low adobe homes sprawled outside the walls of Eldrinpar. Mar children played on the unpaved streets, their brown faces laughing through the dust. Sharessa noticed Belmer's gaze follow them. His eyes narrowed in thought or memory.
'Many of the Mar live outside the city,' explained Sharessa. 'Most of them are farmers or servants. Some will never be more than beggars.'
Belmer nodded but said nothing. His eyes rested on a small Mar youth standing apart from the rest. The boy leaned carelessly against the city wall, inconspicuous in the shade. He watched the other children play but did not join them.
'Only if they choose to remain so,' remarked Belmer. Sharessa composed a question in her mind but left it there. They approached the gate, where fair-skinned guards stood watching the traffic. They stood alert at the sight of the Sharkers.
'Who are you?' asked one of the guards bluntly.
'Travelers from Parsanic,' said Sharessa. 'The caravan we were hired to guard ran afoul of fiends.'
The gate guards seemed briefly dubious, but the Sharkers' wounds were proof enough that they had run afoul of something.
'You look more like pirates than caravan guards,' remarked one guard, looking at their clothes. He didn't sound as though he were joking. Sharessa stepped toward him, trying to capture his eyes with her smile. The guard was looking at Belmer's foreign features and frowning. She had to take his attention off the others.
'We usually sign on for ship voyages, it's true,' she said, leaning closer. The guard finally met her eyes. Shar tugged idly on a shirt lace. The man's gaze followed as expected. There.
'We're exhausted,' she said. She placed her warm hand gently on the guard's arm. 'Can you recommend a good place to sleep?'
The rest was easy.
Within the gates, Eldrinpar was a different city. Aquatic images dominated the architecture, with wave patterns and marine imagery common on the grander buildings. The people were taller than the Mar, their skins more fair. Their clothes-flowing, brightly colored silks-were better, and they smiled confidently where they walked.
Not far past the gate stood a colossal fountain. From its center rose the huge bronze figure of a man wrestling an octopus that was rising from the ocean. Water jetted forth from every wave, pouring down into the wide basin. At its edges, people drew water in buckets or cupped hands.
That's what I need,' said Belgin. 'I'm parched.'
He hurried toward the fountain. The others were quick to follow.
Sharessa dipped her cupped hands in carefully, pouring the cool water over her sticky face. Then she began to wash her hands in earnest, letting the dirty water run off into the street. She looked up to see Belmer leaning upon the fountain's edge, eyes closed in thought. Next to him, Anvil was wringing Ingrar's bandages dry. Bloody rivulets trickled into a drain in the street.
