charred tree limbs that grew tighter and more complex until the sky, which was now red, was visible only in patches and rain fell only lightly on the heroes.
Travel through the new forest, even on the road, was slow going. And soon the road itself became blocked by trees, and the heroes had to follow it on foot as best they could through the tangle of tree limbs on the ground.
'I get the feeling we're completely lost,' Cyric mumbled as he pushed through a tangle of vines into a clearing.
'Impossible,' Kelemvor said gruffly. 'There is but one road, and it leads only to Castle Kilgrave and what lays beyond.'
'But we may have gone off the road some time ago, Kel. Who can tell?' Midnight said, stopping to help her horse over a branch and lead it into the open area.
'We may have been traveling in circles for hours,' Adon whined.
The forest, silent until now, suddenly shrieked to life. Insects buzzed, speaking their secret language. The rustle of wings merged with the thumps of newly formed legs that burst from ichor-laden cocoons and took their first short, plodding steps.
But the heroes could see nothing in the gathering darkness of the forest. And through the small gaps in the canopy, Midnight and saw the blood-red sky turn black. The rain had stopped, at least momentarily.
The bonds that secured the packhorses strained as the frightened animals struggled for freedom, pulling away from Cyric and his panic-stricken mount. Then the tethers snapped, and the animals stumbled wildly away from the party and back into the forest. Cyric cursed and moved to follow the nearest horse.
'Leave them!' Kelemvor warned. The noises grew loud again, and Cyric joined the others in the clearing. As the heroes watched, the forest grew dark, and the sounds of movement in the trees got closer.
Suddenly, the shrieks of the packhorses echoed in the forest. Kelemvor drew his sword as he moved to Midnight's side. 'An old ambush trick,' he said. Around them the noise rose until it became a constant din. 'Passed down from generations of warriors…'
Cyric found his cloak of displacement in one of the canvas sacks on his horse and swiftly threw it across his shoulders. His image seemed to shimmer, and a score of phantom Cyrics appeared around him — some ahead, some behind, others making slightly varied gestures, until it became impossible to tell which was the true Cyric. Each of them seemed surprised by the cloak's effects, surprised and delighted.
Kelemvor was shocked by the effects of the cloak, too. 'Cyric! What's going on?'
'I don't know! The cloak has never done this before!' In the trees, specks of light, flashes of silver and amber, were now visible nearby and deep in the forest, as well. As the lights grew larger and the sounds even louder, Midnight guessed at their true nature.
Glaring eyes.
Chattering teeth.
The roots and vines above the heroes shuddered. The earth beneath them appeared to bleed, and Adon saw large colonies of fire ants rising from the wounds. He shouted as he accidentally stepped on a freshly excavated mound and a swarm of ants ran up his legs. He slapped at the insects and their already swollen bodies burst beneath his blows.
A tree split open near Cyric and expelled the slime-drenched, stumbling body of a white-faced, ghoulish creature, naked and covered with black veins that pulsed and rerouted themselves across its body at random. The thing's limbs bent backward and forward, and the sickening sound of bones shattering and bursting from flesh filled the air as a dozen of the abominations were jettisoned from the large blackened trees.
'Let the horses loose!' Kelemvor screamed, and the heroes let go of the animals' reins. Being well-trained and used to danger, though, the mounts didn't stray far across the clearing.
The creature before Cyric laughed as its amber eyes sunk back into its skull and emerged on its tongue. Then it swallowed them again, and they burst this time from the pale flesh of its chest. The creature moved forward, ripping its own arm from its socket to use as a weapon, and charged at Cyric, the claw-like fingers of the disembodied arm opening and closing with a fervor.
Cyric only had time to note that the creature did not bleed from its empty shoulder before it struck at one of his shadow selves. The thief spun and used his hand axe to hack at the creature.
Kelemvor stood beside Midnight, Caitlan, and Adon, watching as the white-skinned creature attacked Cyric. Then he heard a low growl and turned to see a pair of yellow dogs, each bearing three heads and eight spidery legs, creeping up on them from behind. The dogs separated and maneuvered to attack.
'Adon! Midnight! Back-to-back formation with me. We have to protect Caitlan!' The cleric and the magic-user responded instantly, helping Kelemvor form a triangle with Caitlan in the center. 'Caitlan, crouch down, hands around your knees, face tucked in. Try not to look up unless you have to. Be ready to run if we fall.'
Caitlan did as she was told, without question. From her vantage, close to the ground, looking out past Kelemvor's boots, she spotted more of the dogs in the forest — some waiting outside the small clearing; others attacking the white-skinned creatures. One of the spider hounds, racing close to the ground, seemed to be coming directly for Caitlan. She squeezed her eyes shut and tucked her head down, then offered a prayer to her mistress for their deliverance.
Midnight prepared to unleash a spell in their defense, and also prayed that it would not go awry. Magic missiles might not have the power to stop the beast, and Midnight didn't dare throw anything as powerful as a fireball, for fear of it backfiring and killing her friends. So she attempted to conjure a decastave — a pole of force — using a fallen branch for the spell.
The magic-user completed the spell just as the first of the dogs leaped at her.
Nothing happened.
For an instant Midnight smelled the fetid breath of the middle head of the creature, and three sets of jaws opened wide to rend her flesh. Then Adon flung himself at the dog, knocking it away before Midnight could be harmed. Adon and the spider hound struck the ground separately, the hound falling in a muddy pit, its legs bicycling in the air as it attempted to right itself.
Adon looked up and shouted. 'Midnight, Caitlan, move!'
The second dog had leaped at Kelemvor. He bent low and gutted the screaming animal as it passed above him. Midnight grabbed Caitlan and scrambled out of the way as the fighter was dragged down by the weight of the dog and fell in the spot where Caitlan had crouched only seconds before.
Kelemvor rose, pulling his sword from the body of the hound. He noticed that the other spider hound seemed to be drowning in the pool of mud. The fighter went to the beast and ran it through, ending its misery and its threat. The creature whimpered once before it died and sank into the mud.
More of the spider hounds prowled the edge of the clearing, avoiding the quick death their pack leaders had found on Kelemvor's sword, and busied themselves by attacking most of the white-skinned creatures that had emerged from the dead trees.
'Quick, Adon. Help Cyric!' Kelemvor yelled as another of the humanoid creatures moved in to attack the thief.
Midnight hissed, 'If you have you some dark trick to unleash, Kel, now might be the time!'
'Never ask for what you are not prepared to receive,' the fighter growled, then shook his head and braced himself as a trio of the white-skinned creatures that had avoided the dogs approached. Caitlan stood between Kelemvor and Midnight. The best they could hope for, Kelemvor knew, was to keep the creatures away from the girl for as long as possible.
A few yards away, Adon waded into the sea of quivering body parts that lay in a heap surrounding Cyric as he fought with yet another of the white-faced abominations. This one noticed Adon, ripped off its own head, and sent it flying at the young cleric. The head flew by, baring huge fangs, as Adon sidestepped and swung his hammer at a disembodied, claw-like hand poised to rip out Cyric's throat.
The hand exploded as the hammer struck, and Adon turned suddenly, the sound of mad panting and the heat of something dark and evil at his ear. The disembodied head floated in midair beside the cleric, its broad smile full of sharp teeth.
'They're not human,' Cyric shouted. 'Not even alive, not the way we think of it. They're plants of some sort, shaped like humans!'
The head that floated beside Adon made an odd sound, like a giggle.
