Return to Canifis

on his satchel went limp.

He looked up to see Kara, her arms and cheek covered in black blood. Beyond the bars, the body of his assailant fell silently to the ground outside.

Kara spat in disgust.

“You come to us in the guise of parley while your assassin sneaks up on us,” Theodore fumed. “Go now, and don’t bother to return. Your words are meaningless, your guarantees fraudulent, and your promises empty.”

It was one of the bodies. One of the werewolves must have advanced with the rest, and then pretended he was dead, only to sneak up on me when the elder advanced.

I have to be more careful in the future.

“We should stay away from the bars if we can,” Kara warned. “Who knows what they will try next.”

When the next attack came, it wasn’t a charge or a deceit, but something they couldn’t fight. A wall of smoke drifted on the breeze. In the distance, Castimir could see the werewolves arranging the fires to shroud their prison in smoke.

“I didn’t know werewolves liked their meat smoked,” he joked, coughing.

For the first time in what felt like days, he saw Theodore smile.

“Can you conjure a wind to blow this aside?” Kara asked, her eyes watering.

“I am not fond of wind or air magic, but I think it would serve us best now.” He readied the runes he needed for his spell. There were four of them, one with a skull etched upon its surface, a death rune. The other three had a primitive white depiction of the air element.

They melted in his palm, the sensation reassuring. Then, when he felt his hand grow heavy, he pushed it forward. A compact ball of air, powerful enough to topple a strong man, rent a hole in the wall of smoke.

But it bought them only a few moments reprieve.

“How often can you do that?” Theodore asked him.

“Not often enough, Theo. Not nearly often enough. But perhaps if I aim it closer to home it might work better.”

He conjured the wind again, and this time he directed it toward the ground. The breeze hit him as it burst upon the grass, a cool wind escaping in all directions. He tried it twice more, but each time the smoke moved in quicker than before.

Soon they were all bent double, crouching under the smoke.

“Water… I should use water,” he wheezed. “Perhaps I can douse their fires.”

This time, when he thrust his arm forward, a great globe of water flew from his hand, vanishing into the darkness beyond.

It was greeted by vicious laughter.

“Is that the best you can do, wizard?” The voices mocked from all sides now. “Our fires are too numerous for you to extinguish.”

And then the drums started. A steady beat, marching around and around the cage as the smoke only grew denser.

“We will… we will have to run,” Kara coughed violently. “Can you melt the lock?”

Castimir shook his head. He was exhausted. His robes clung to his body, soaked from his sweat.

“We wouldn’t get a hundred yards, Kara,” Theodore said, his eyes watering, his tunic held against his face to try and prevent the smoke from getting into his lungs.

All this magic and I still can’t save us!

“I’m sorry, Kara,” he said. “Theodore, I’m sorry. And you Gar’rth, I’m sorry… sorry for you as well…”

And Arisha-especially you.

“At least we won’t feel anything,” Theodore murmured. Castimir saw the knight’s grip slacken on his sword as he fell face down at the centre of the cage. Kara looked at him and smiled sweetly. She sat behind Gar’rth still, unwilling to be parted from him.

Then Castimir was too weak even to cough. His vision swam again and he saw the world darken.

29

They headed south, into the vast swamps.

Pia’s feet sunk ankle deep into the mire as they went, Jack behind her, holding her arm with both his hands.

Still he won’t speak. Not since our capture.

She gritted her teeth and fought her exhaustion before taking another step.

“Come on, Pia. We have a long way to go before night falls,” Vanstrom said from in front of her.

“You knew that Canifis was going to be attacked,” she spat at him. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

It would have given me hope. It would have given Jack hope too.

Vanstrom gave a tight-lipped grin.

“You could have been spies. The vampires use them often enough. Come on now, and no more talking. We must be silent.”

On they trudged, for how long Pia couldn’t say. She stared at her mud-caked boots, and sought not to trip and fall. As they continued, she gradually realised that she could hear more noise than just the heavy trudging sounds of the three of them-the splashing became louder and louder. And there was something else…

Looking up, she saw that their ranks had swelled to nearly a dozen individuals. They were armed with bows and clad in black cloaks, their faces coated in a foul-smelling paste. She covered her nose against the stench.

“You should get used to that smell,” growled a man who saw her distaste. “It confuses their noses. Prevents the wolves from tracking us. Now, you will have to wear it, too.” They reached firmer ground, a small island in the swamp, and the group spread out to watch every approach. Some sat down, taking the time to rest.

Two of them moved forward and applied a black, mud-like paste to her face, rubbing it into her hair. Pia was too tired to resist, and she saw that her brother was being subjected to similar treatment. One of the men who seemed to lead the small band held out a handful of the stuff, gesturing for her to take it.

“Rub it under your arms, as well, and on your legs,” he instructed. “We have time now, so do it properly.”

The group waited in silence upon the narrow island, with its small trees and some dense bushes. Vanstrom talked in a low voice with the leader, and every so often Pia saw their eyes fall upon her.

Perhaps they will help us, she thought. But can I trust them? Or will they be like Kara-Meir. No. I can trust Vanstrom. What he did for me in cage saved me from madness.

Pia curled her lip back as she thought of her abandonment. Part of her fought against it, for she knew in truth that there was nothing Kara could have done for her. Yet she had fled so quickly.

Arisha is a true heroine. She sat out there with me. I won’t ever steal from a Guthix priest again.

She caught Vanstrom smiling at her, and without thinking she smiled back. Without his presence in the cage, she knew, she would have been overwhelmed by fear.

He was kind to me, and to Jack.

Suddenly there was movement at one tip of the island.

“Karnac, someone is coming,” a man warned. The group fell silent instantly. Bows and swords were readied as the black group hid as best they could, waiting.

A minute went by, and then another. Pia fought the urge to speak.

Finally she heard them. A small group, trudging through the mire.

“Karnac!” a man called, his voice strangely calm.

“I’m here.” The leader of the band stood and waved his hand. “How many of you are there? Did you get them out?”

“Only three, I am afraid. The rest of the outsiders went back into the village.”

Karnac cursed.