Drathar winced. The render's hunger was quickening, and that made its mind a flaring, roiling thing that threatened to draw him in. He didn't want to end up lost in that hunger-driven flood.
He was too good, mayhap, at this beast-coercing. Best to hang back farther. He'd intended to, anyhail, to keep well away from the thief's hurled daggers. The mindlink would tell him when it was feeding. There would be time enough when the real battle was over to skulk in closer and see how matters lay.
He'd cast silence on the creature to cloak its approach. That would have to be cleverness enough. Else he'd be striding along after it, bloodying his fingers on trees, presenting himself as ready meat for anything bold enough to get close to a feeding gray render.
Which would have to be something so bold, he wouldn't want to face it at the best of times.
'Tempus, Tymora, and doom,' Islif muttered, managing to look angry and sleepy at the same time. 'I don't like the chances of my sword being able to carve that. D'you think there are any loose shards of rock up atop this cliff you could climb up and shove down onto its head?'
Pennae shrugged. 'I saw some deep clefts up there, with greenery doing the lush tumble down out of them. Whether I can get anything free in time is another thing. I'll take that battlehammer Semoor lugs with him but never wants to use and see what I can do-but mind, falling stone really doesn't care if it hits ugly monster or valiant Knight of Myth Drannor.'
'Pennae,' Islif replied, 'We're too desperate to worry about that. Get climbing.'
The thief nodded, turned away, and starred up the weathered stone as if it were a well-lit ladder.
Islif wondered what Pennae would do if there were other forest prowlers waiting for her with bared and grinning fangs at the top of the cliff.
Then she wondered if the thief had alreadv stolen the Pendant and, upon reaching the top of the cliff, would just sidle off through the trees, leaving the rest of them to a swift and bloody doom.
Then, joining Florin and a reelingly sleepy Doust and Semoor in a line along the ledge, she wondered if she'd have time to even know what was killing them, before it did.
What must be magical silence was ebbing as the hulking thing clawed its way up the gravel slope. She could hear faint clackings and rattlings as stones tumbled in a constant, growing flood.
Rolling over those sounds, she could hear something else-a deep, wet rumbling, like a dog growling deep in its throat. The thing was large-half again as tall as she was, its shoulders far broader than hers. Hairless and seemingly sexless, it stood upon squat, massive legs and had a stumpy little flap of a tail. There'd be a channel beneath that tail where it relieved itself. That and its pale, wet maw and the eyes-six of them-were the only vulnerable spots she could see.
Shaking her head, Islif wondered if she'd be able to reach any of them and if they really were weaknesses her blade could pierce.
Ar least she had time to ponder such things, as a little gravel showered and bounced down from above, marking Pennae's climb. This beast was digging into the loose stones below theit ledge more than it was managing to climb them.
Yet there had to be solid rock or sturdy earth under all the rocks, pebbles, and gravel, if one went deep enough. It would only be a matter of time.
'Can we try to blind it, d'you think?' Florin asked. 'Before it gets up here with us? Pennae?'
'She's gone,' Islif said, not knowing if the thing could hear and understand them. 'Up. So depend upon no cleverly thrown daggers to help us.'
'Both of you should be able to reach the eyes with your blades, if standing right beside it,' Semoor muttered. 'If it doesn't stand up tall, that is, and all the shifting stone doesn't just slide you on past.' It was obvious who 'both of you' were meant to be.
'If we get down onto that loose stuff,' Florin murmured, 'can we get up here again?'
'Can we stand up to fight it at all?' Islif asked. 'I'm not welcoming the thought of wallowing, scarce able to land a sword cut, and ending up sprawled flat in the scree, sliding helplessly down to its legs as it digs and churns, so it can reach out and break my back- or claw me up to dine-whenever it pleases.'
'We could try to reach out and haul you back,' Semoor suggested, eyeing those black-fanged jaws. The beast was clearly watching them, turning its head to regard each Knight in turn, and its rumbling was rising in tone and volume. It sounded angry.
Islif and Florin both shook their heads.
'That'll just mean you get hauled helplessly into the same doom as ours,' Islif said.
Florin sighed and fixed both priests with stern looks. 'No holy magic that can help now, at all?'
Doust and Semoor gave each other uneasy looks then shook their heads in unison. The ranger sighed then ducked down until he was half-kneeling-and sptang.
Off the ledge and forward, sword out. Those great, black-taloned arms swung up to claw at him but succeeded only in coming up under one of his boots and lofting him the extra bit he needed, not only to land on the beast's massive back just behind the eyes, but to turn in midair, so he came down facing rhe ledge and his fellow Knights.
Florin drove his sword sideways into the angle of the jaws. As he'd expected, the monster bit down hard on it, making it into a rock-solid handle for the next breath or two. Which was quite long enough for the ranger to use his other hand to snatch out a belt dagger and bury it hilt-deep in one of the beast's eyes.
It stiffened, then roared in pain and threw up its arms, rising out of its crouch. By then, Florin had yanked his dagger messily free of one eyesocket and plunged the steel into the next one.
The monster roared and reached up with one arm to claw him forward over its head and down into its waiting jaws-and Islif's sword slashed across its talons, severing or blunting them all and causing it to squall in astonished pain. It shook that hand wildly, seeking to banish the pain, which was more than long enough for the ranger riding it to plunge his dagger into the third eye on that side of the monster's head.
It stiffened again, then spasmed, wriggling wildly and uncontrollably beneath him. Florin clung to blade and dagger, fighting just to stay on its back-as Islif snarled to Semoor, 'The big skillet, on edge, between its jaws!'
The priest blinked at her, then tore apart his pack and produced the pan. Islif snatched it, drove it in between those black teeth- and then lunged so deeply that her armored shoulder fetched up beside the skillet with a clang. Which meant her sword was arm-deep in the beast's maw but angled up into its massive shoulders and spine, piercing and now slicing and slashing viciously.
The monster reeled, flung up its arms to tear the swordswoman apart-and Doust and Semoor launched themselves from the ledge, maces smashing down on the monster's hands with all their weight backing the blows.
The monster staggered back, arms flailing, the rumbling now a bellow of raw agony, and Florin dared to dtive his fingers into one gore-weeping eyesocket to gain a handhold to cling to. He let go his swotd and used that hand to thrust the dagger into the first of the three eyes on the other side of the head.
The massive shoulders under Florin were shaking and spasming helplessly now, the arms flailing around in a wild thrashing.
'Get clear!' Pennae cried from above. 'Flor, get away from it!'
Florin slashed open another eye, even as he kicked hard against the thing's back, and thrust himself free, toppling back into the night.
The thing tried to turn, to follow him and pounce, but it was lurching, its muscles rippling and shuddering uncontrollably. It had managed only a half-turn by the time Islif and the two priests had clawed themselves well apart from where it thrashed on the scree slope-and a long, wedge-shaped slab of rock came thundering down out of the night to smash the beast flat.
Broken and bewildered, all it could still do was scream. It did that, feebly, then fell silent and leaked gore out from under the now-shattered stone covering it.
'Well, now,' Pennae's voice floated down to her fellow Knights, surprisingly calm and quiet. 'That wasn't so hard, was it? Any other beasts you need taken care of?'
'Whoever sent this one?' Semoor said. 'Four coins to get twelve that this hulk was brought or sent here to stand against us.'
No one accepted his wager.
