ready, frightened but ready to defend themselves. Brindra rushed to stand by Anvil, her face illuminated more by her excitement than by the yellow lamplight.
The others remained in darkness, though Sharessa thought she saw Rings's short, stocky shadow near the edge of the light before it faded back into the darkness. She wondered where Belmer had gone. The fiend couldn't have killed him. Could it?
'It's still here,' said Brindra, panting. 'I can feel it.' She grimaced up at the trees. Every time Anvil shifted the lantern, the boughs seemed to move.
'Hold that light still,' snapped Brindra. Her eyes sought out the slightest movement. Dark crimson ichor oozed across the surface of her blade.
Sharessa usually felt safer in the shadows, but not now. She crept toward the circle of light to join the others. Once there, with her back against Brindra's, she counted heads.
All of the Sharkers were present, as were three sailors. Turbalt had shoved his way into the middle of the circle they formed, pressed against the ground below Anvil's huge form. He sobbed quietly, alternately hiding his face and glancing around like a cornered hare.
'It's no good,' said Belmer, reappearing suddenly at the edge of the circle. 'The thing won't fight when we're ready. Let's move.'
'Let's wait until Ingrar's ready,' she said. She looked at Belmer to see whether he would overrule her. He returned her gaze, paused for only a second, then nodded.
The young pirate clutched his bleeding face with both hands as if trying to press his eyes back into his head. After his initial shock, he had regained his calm, despite the grievous wound.
One of the older sailors stood near the young Sharker. The grizzled sea dog took off his shirt to reveal an expanse of gray hair on a tanned chest. Without a word, he tore the cloth into long strips, fashioning a bandage for Ingrains eyes.
Sharessa smiled her thanks to the old sailor, taking the bandages.
'I can't see,' Ingrar told her plainly. 'My eyes are burning.'
'You'll be all right,' she said. 'Once we're in Eldrinpar, well find a healer. Take your hands away.' When he did, she dabbed at his bloody face with the bandages. Then she saw that he might need more than just healing. A deep scratch crossed both eyes and the bridge of his nose. One eyelid hung limply, almost completely cut away. Sharessa tried to bind his eyes, but she hadn't the skill. The old sailor took over.
'I feel sleepy,' said Ingrar.
'Anvil will help you,' Sharessa said. The big man nodded at her, passing his lantern to Belgin. He sheathed his sword and lifted Ingrar in his arms. The boy's head lolled against Anvil's shoulder. Shar's face must have betrayed her alarm.
'He's asleep,' said Anvil. 'I can feel him breathing.'
Sharessa nodded, then turned toward the light. A trio of moths circled the lantern in Belgin's raised hand.
v
'Let's move,' said Belmer. 'While we're all still breathing'
They walked for another two hours. After the first mile or so, the tree line drew away from the ravine's edge. The ground between the forest and the ravine was covered with wild grasses, relatively level except for a jutting stone here and there. There were fewer places to hide, and the Sharkers slowed a little, feeling safer with some distance between them and the obscuring forest.
Belmer called for a halt, and Sharessa organized a quick watch. She set Anvil and three of the Morning Bird's sailors around their temporary camp. She chose each site herself, making sure that each had a clear line of sight to the woods. Then she returned to the light of their brief camp.
'It's a kind of paralytic, I think,' said Belgin as Sharessa rejoined them. Across Ingrar's sleeping body, Belmer nodded his agreement.
'At least the poison won't kill us,' said Belmer. He laid a slim hand on Ingrar's temple, smoothing the bandage. He looked up to see that the others were watching him and removed his hand quickly. 'But that doesn't make the thing any less dangerous.'
'If it would just stand and fight,' grumbled Brindra. She sat with her sword across her knees, wiping the blade with a dirty cloth. The fiend's blood had come off long ago, but the stench of spoiled meat and rotten eggs remained. She kept polishing the metal in a vain attempt to banish the stink.
'Where did you find that sword?' asked Belmer.
'What's that to you?' responded Brindra. She remained surly around the outlander, still deeply resentful of Kurthe's death.
If Belmer took offense at the barrel-shaped woman's tone, he didn't show it. 'You cut the fiend, while its hide turned away my. blade and Sharessa's.'
'Maybe you just missed,' snarled Brindra.
'No, he's right,' said Rings. He bent down on one knee beside Brindra. Their heads were at the same height, now. 'I've never seen you sharpen this blade.'
'Never needed it.' Brindra shrugged, but she looked at the sword more intently.
'She took it from an Ulgarthan buccaneer,' explained Rings.
'So it might be enchanted,' concluded Belmer. 'Anyone else have a magical weapon?'
Rings held up one of his axes, a dwarven weapon with a curving blade. 'It's an everbright,' explained Rings. 'I don't know whether it can hurt that fiend, but it has the magic of the smith within its steel.'
'What about yours, Belmer? Enchanted?' asked Belgin. Sharessa wanted to know, too. If Belmer wielded an enchanted weapon, that would explain his uncanny prowess with the sword. Many were the tales of quickblades, weapons enchanted with the speed of lightning.
'Never used one,' said Belmer. 'Too easy to detect. Not worth the risk.'
Belgin nodded as if he understood, and Brindra looked at Belmer with scorn.
'You mean if the fiend attacks again, these two are the only ones that can hurt it?' Turbalt's voice seemed strange after such a long silence. His plaintive whine had not been missed.
'Perhaps,' said Belmer. 'We might be able to burn it. The thing found us even without our light, so there's no reason we shouldn't carry torches.'
'That way we can at least see what we're fighting,' said Brindra. She stood up and sheathed her blade.
'You and Rings must be ready to attack as soon as the thing appears again,' said Sharessa.
'It may come after you, Brindra,' said Belmer. 'After all, you're the only one to hurt it so far.' Sharessa thought for a moment that the outlander smiled faintly at the thought.
'That's all right with me,' said the big woman. 'I'm ready to finish the job for what it did to Ingrar.'
Sharessa half-expected Belmer to say that they must leave Ingrar behind, but he just looked down at the young, blinded Sharker. Either Belmer realized that the others would rebel at such a suggestion, or he was beginning to value their lives more highly.
'We've rested long enough. Let's make those torches and keep looking for Anvil's bridge.'
Sharessa was the first to spot it. She said nothing at first, afraid that the shadows were playing tricks with her eyes. But the shadows had always been friends to her, and as they drew closer, she saw that her first impression had been right.
There it is,' she said, pointing. A slender bridge arched across the ravine ahead. Below, the waters roared as the river narrowed. White spumes glinted in the moonlight, far below.
'Strange place for a bridge,' said Belgin as they came closer. Indeed, there was no discernable path on this side, yet the bridge itself looked well tended.
'Weird looking, too,' said Rings. He was right, thought Sharessa. The bridge looked as smooth as alabaster in the moonlight, thin and delicate where it arched over the ravine. At either side stood ornate archways of spiky, twisting designs that reminded Sharessa of no culture she had ever seen.
'Wait,' said Belmer. 'I don't like this.' He paused in thought a moment, then said, 'It's a trap. We go around it.'
'Don't be a fool,' cried Turbalt. Sharessa wished that the stupid little man would keep his mouth shut. 'It's
