It had not been skinned.
And the more Morgis thought of the scant details of Kalena’s story, the more he realized that what had stalked her and her partners had been something else entirely, something that had long made its home in the keep and knew all the hidden passages.
Something that had found more than a dozen armed and armored soldiers only a tempting target.
Before, the drake had thought that once Leonin had Kalena, it would be simple for them to lose the wolf raiders. Now, though, they might be running right into the waiting talons of the keep’s foul denizen.
With the spell on him, Morgis was all but helpless. D’Kairn had the only potential weapon against whatever ghoulish creature lurked in the ruins, but the sorcerer was too focused on revenge against mortal foes.
D’Kairn kept most of his attention on the doorway to the one back room, no doubt assuming that the guard would be watching the prisoner. However, the guard’s gaze also eventually drifted more to the doorway than to his charge. Both Aramites were clearly growing disturbed at the lengthening absence of their cohorts.
Morgis braced himself, waiting for what would undoubtedly be his last chance. They had bound his arms, but, as before, they had left his legs free.
The cloaked keeper paused, completely facing the doorway. Out of the corner of his eye, the drake noted that the guard’s attention was fixed on that direction. One hand remained on the sword hilt, but the weapon was still sheathed.
It was the moment for which Morgis had been hoping.
Pushing forward with all his might, he leapt toward D’Kairn’s back.
The guard shouted and tried to stop him, but his hand came away empty. Running as hard as he could, the drake lowered his head like a battering ram.
D’Kairn started to turn… but too late.
The much larger Morgis barreled into the keeper with such force that D’Kairn went flying. The sorcerer lost his hold on the necklace, which wrapped itself around his neck.
Stumbling on, Morgis made for the doorway.
He heard the guard in hot pursuit. Morgis prayed that the Aramites had done the obvious and left the entrance to the hidden passage open. If not, then he had just signed his own death warrant.
At first, all Morgis could see was darkness. A frustrated hiss escaped him just before he noticed that part of the wall to the left leaned out. Without hesitation, the drake threw himself into the passage.
Almost immediately, he collided with an inner wall. Bouncing off of it, Morgis staggered his way along, certain that the remaining guard was hot on his heels.
The clank of metal assured him of that fact. He swore under his breath. If at least he could free himself, then he could face the Aramite on equal terms. A drake with one good arm was certainly equal to a wolf raider with two.
Now he could hear the soldier’s harsh breathing, a sign that the Aramite was gaining rapidly. Morgis knew that he would never make it to the end of the passage and even if he did, it might be to run into the other soldiers. The darkness of the tunnel did give him some advantage, though. The guard would have to almost be right on top of Morgis to see him.
The drake hesitated as a desperate plan suddenly came to mind. On top of him?
It was worth the risk. Even with the armor, he outweighed the wolf raider.
Morgis dropped to the floor, rolling immediately onto his back. He braced his legs and tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his shoulder.
A second later, a shadowed form came running toward him. Despite being only a few yards from the drake, the guard still ran at full speed.
Morgis’s feet caught the Aramite full in the stomach. The armor prevented the drake from driving the breath from the wolf raider, but that was not what Morgis intended.
The Aramite fell forward.
Rocking back, Morgis used the human’s momentum to help him throw the raider over his head. Caught unaware, unable to see well in the dark, the Aramite let out a startled gasp as he tumbled over the drake.
He landed with a hard crash, striking at least one wall before rolling onto the passage floor.
Unwilling to lose his advantage, Morgis quickly rolled over and fell upon the Aramite. He strained at his bonds as he dropped on his foe, but even his prodigious strength did not avail him.
Unfortunately, his adversary was not quite as stunned as Morgis had hoped. The raider grappled with the drake, quickly realizing that the prisoner could not seize him in turn.
But the Aramite failed to recall one basic fact. He faced a dragon in mortal form, but still a creature of legend born with fang.
And although it revolted Morgis greatly, he used what all his magic could never erase.
Opening his mouth wide, the drake sank his sharp teeth into the wolf raider’s throat and tore it out.
There were those among his kind who still savored the freshness of blood, the freshness of the kill. Morgis, though, had been raised near Irillian by the Sea, where drakes were almost-but not quite-human. He found no sweetness in the taste, only a nausea, a regret. He was thankful that neither Leonin nor, especially, Kalena could see him now.
The Aramite let out one last gurgle before falling limp. Morgis waited a moment more-then spat out the foul life fluids as quickly as he could. Shame overwhelmed him. It was one thing to meet a foe in combat, but this…
Forcing his regrets aside, Morgis felt for the guard’s dagger. That found, he worked at his bonds as swiftly as he could. All he needed was a bit of slack, a single piece of cut rope.
There! Morgis felt it give ever so slightly. He cut a bit more, then, dropping the blade, strained. His shoulder ached, demanding he cease, but Morgis refused. A little more…
The ropes gave way, tumbling to the floor. Morgis quickly exercised sore muscles, then checked his shoulder. The entire arm felt all but useless.
Nonetheless, he located the guard’s sword and headed on, hoping he could yet catch up to Leonin and the cat woman. Morgis had heard nothing so far, which made him hope that clever Leonin and feline Kalena had combined their natural skills to easily evade their pursuers.
The passage wended its down, curving madly. Swearing silently as he ran, Morgis peered ahead for some subtle difference in the darkness that would indicate he had reached the end.
At last, a hint of wind caressed his face. Hissing, Morgis increased his pace. Ahead, a sliver of darkness lighter than that around it beckoned him.
The outer door of the passage had been left ajar, but not enough for the towering drake to slip through. He pushed at the false stone wall, finding it a harder trial than he had expected. Putting his good shoulder to it, Morgis shoved.
The door gave way-and the drake discovered the obstacle that had make his task so difficult.
What was left of a wolf raider lay almost jammed into the false wall. His breastplate had been torn apart as if made of silk and most of his face had been take along with it.
Kneeling close, Morgis could see that the skin had been expertly flayed.
Every muscle in his body taut, the drake surveyed the scene.
More bodies.
They lay scattered about, each in some varying stage of horror. Armor had done nothing for them, nor had their weapons evidently. Some were devoid of almost everything, including their outer flesh. Others looked as if the creature had paused in mid-work, intending to return.
A quick count verified that the entire pursuit party lay before him.
What can kill ssso swiftly? Morgis wondered. Kill so ssswiftly that I heard no sssound even so near?
There was no sign of his friends. From the evidence he had seen so far of the monster’s work, it would have made more sense for their bodies to lie here among the others. That meant that they still might be alive.
But where?
Crippling pain sent him crashing among the corpses, the sword flying from his hand. He did not have to see behind him to know the cause.
“This is what it means not to have the order, the control, perpetuated by the empire!” D’Kairn’s voice had an edge to it that Morgis had never heard before. The keeper sounded strained. “You curse us, call us fiends, but I see before me a thing more monstrous than anything we are accused of!”
