“Then we can find this stuff if we can find the host? It will save her?” Vanx surmised loud enough for Trevin to hear. He knew his friend had been listening and was glad to give him a bit of hope.
“Finding the host isn’t the problem,” Quazar offered. “I’d wager I could tell you where dozens of them are dwelling this very moment.”
“Then what’s the problem?” This came from Matty, who was tending a pot of rabbit stew.
Darbon was asleep in a bundle of blankets. His clothes hung stiff and dried on the rack by the fire. Apparently the one-handed woman had helped the young apprentice wash the soot off his body and clothes. The satisfied smile on the bit of Darbon’s sleepy face that was visible told Vanx that all that washing had led to something else. He was thankful he’d slept through it.
“The parasitic dracatode is only found in the blood of one species. Surviving an encounter with one of these beasts has proven to be next to impossible.” Quazar shrugged at Matty and then at Vanx. “That is the problem.”
In unison, Vanx and Trevin asked the same question. “What is this beast?”
As if for dramatic effect, Quazar drew in a long, deep breath and sighed.
“I’m speaking of the great fire wyrm. There are dozens of them laired on Dragon Isle, but you’ll have to get the blood of a mature wyrm. The younger ones have no potency. One dragon there reigns over the rest. It’s a vial of that wyrm’s blood we’ll need to save her.”
“The blood of the great fire wyrm taken on one of the two nights of Aur? Is that all that will help her?” Trevin’s voice sounded incredulous.
Quasar nodded and the silence that followed was only broken when Matty half chuckled under her breath. “This should make you a grand ballad to sing, Vanxy.”
A few heartbeats later the forest came to life. Out of the shadows a bark- covered, tree-trunk leg stepped into the clearing. The trees seemed to part for the limbs and bulk of the terrifying tree-like beast’s form. From the other side of the camp a deep, bellowing sound erupted. Vanx knew that it was an ogre’s battle call. Another ogre yelled, then another, and another.
The living tree brought its other leg over the camp, nearly kicking Matty in the head. It was huge, thirty feet tall, and its legs were as big around as barrel kegs. Brightly colored leaves shivered and shook as the creature stopped, drew itself in, then opened up a knothole maw and returned the ogre’s call with an ear-grating shriek of its own.
Vanx rolled to his pack and snatched up his bow. Luckily it was still strung from his rabbit hunting foray early in the morning. He noticed that one of the haulkattens had pulled its tether and was bounding away. The other big katten had its hackles ruffled and was growling at something unseen in the forest. Vanx loosed the horse, giving it a slap on the rump. It went tearing away from the madness that was unfolding around him.
Vanx turned to see Quazar standing over Gallarael. He was clutching his pack tightly to his body with one arm, and with a kick of his boot he shoved Trevin away. After a few wild hand gestures that left his pack falling to his feet, a pristine lavender orb encapsulated them as it came sizzling into existence. The wizard fell to a collapsed heap next to the girl, but both of them, and the wizard’s components, were within the protective bounds of the magical field.
Darbon, who was as naked as his name day, was fighting to get free from a tangle of blankets. Matty stood over him looking as fierce as could be with a dagger in her hand, waving her stump arm around threateningly.
Trevin scrambled for a pack and came up with his longsword as a handful of the wolf-riding Kobalts bounded into the camp.
At first it wasn’t clear to any of the companions what was going on, but when one of the ogres came thrashing through the trees right at Matty it became clearer.
A trio of Kobalt arrows sprouted out of the ogre’s chest, but they did little to slow its momentum. With its fangs bared, and its filthy jagged claws reared back, the ten-foot-tall green beast dove for the woman just as Darbon gained his feet beside her.
Vanx could do nothing for them. It didn’t appear that Trevin could either, for another of the huge grey-green flesh-eaters was attacking the young guardsman before he could bring his sword to bear against it.
Vanx leapt to the back of the young haulkat. He had half a mind to just ride away and leave the humans to their fate. He was half Zythian after all, and these people had made him a slave. He owed them nothing.
He loosed an arrow at the ogre attacking Trevin. The young haulkatten nearly toppled Vanx from his seat when it charged at another ogre, and opened its guts with a razor claw. Holding on as best as he could with his legs, Vanx loosed arrow after arrow into the violent chaos. When he was down to the last shaft, he held it and let the haulkatten do the fighting. It was all Vanx could do at that point just to hold on.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ogres are full of menace,
ogres are full of rage.
Once a man was fool enough
to put one in a cage.
Vanx let his last arrow fly at the howling ogre closing on him from the right. It was no easy shot. The young haulkat beneath him was tearing into the green-skinned hulk directly before them with a ferocious intensity. Still, Vanx’s arrow found its mark. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a massive arm-like limb of the tree beast swing down and bat the ogre attacking Matty and Darbon away from them. With a dagger raised high, Matty rushed in and attacked the bewildered ogre as soon as it hit the ground. Darbon threw Vanx a half-full quiver and then, snatching up a heavy stone, he joined her.
Vanx felt sorry for the boy. He’d had to fight naked himself once before behind an inn in Andwyn, after he’d leapt from his lover’s window. He’d won the skirmish, but would never forget how vulnerable he felt with his manhood exposed and at risk. It occurred to him, as he shifted to compensate for the haulkatten’s next lunge, that he always had these odd thoughts while he was in a fix. Here he was with an outraged, arrow-riddled ogre charging at him from one side, and another still fighting his mount. There was a third ogre now, loping toward him with nothing less than hungry murder in its dark eyes, but all he could think about was how silly Darbon looked fighting naked and one-handed. He turned toward the approaching ogre and let a pair of arrows loose. One caught the edge of a tree trunk and exploded in a shower of splinters and chipped bark. The other, though, found its mark and stuck deep into the ogre’s abdomen. The feral creature had no idea that it was wounded and it charged onward, never even breaking stride.
Vanx reached for another arrow and found that the quiver was empty. He didn’t panic. Oddly, the more tense the situation, the calmer he felt. It was one of the qualities about him that his trainers had all praised. The ogre bearing down on him was in a bloody rage. Vanx reached to his hip and found that his dagger wasn’t in its place. His immediate suspicion was confirmed when he saw that Matty was using it.
As the ogre came rushing up, Vanx heeled the haulkatten sharply. The alert young beast leapt into a sideways twisting sprawl that only those of the feline persuasion can manage. The ogre’s grasping claws closed on nothing but air. The enraged beast couldn’t stop its momentum, though, and it smacked face first into an ancient oak tree with a skull-cracking crunch.
Vanx laughed out loud. His mirth was cut off quickly, though, when a blow caught him in the ribs and took his breath. He went flailing from the haulkatten and the startled animal jumped away from the unseen attacker. Vanx
