youth’s parents.
A dozen of the creatures now gathered at the edge of the road, and they were moving closer. Jayson didn’t know what held them back-the light from their lantern or if they were waiting for greater numbers-but he didn’t want to linger to find out.
“The barge,” he murmured, backing up, drawing Corim with him. The boy resisted a moment, straining toward Gray’s Kill, toward his home, as Jayson’s heart yearned to seek out Lianne, but then the boy relented. Jayson nearly choked with relief. Voice thick, he said, “We’re going to run for it, straight to the river, no stopping, no matter what. Understand?”
Without taking his eyes off the creatures in the forest, Corim nodded. Another shift in the wind and a hot blast of smoke skated across the road, obscuring the creatures from sight.
“Go!” Jayson barked, dragging Corim around and thrusting him in the opposite direction, away from the raging inferno of Gray’s Kill. The youth cried out, stumbled but caught himself, and then they were both tearing down the darkened road, Jayson holding his lantern high, his other hand clutching desperately at the knife. His satchel slammed against his side, his legs already burning, but he pushed himself harder. Behind, he heard a sharp hiss and the sudden crackle of underbrush and swore beneath his breath, but he didn’t turn to look. When Corim slowed and tried to glance back, Jayson gasped, “Run!” and gestured with his knife hand.
Whatever Corim saw made his eyes flare wide and then he raced ahead, outpacing Jayson. He caught one of the creatures out of the corner of his eye, lithe and black in the swaying lantern light, racing him along the edge of the road. It bared its needlelike fangs and dodged toward him.
Jayson cried out and flailed with his knife, hitting the creature and knocking it to one side, but not before its claws dug into his calf, shredding his breeches and drawing three slashes down his leg as it fell away. Pain lanced up into Jayson’s gut, even as two more of the creatures raced out before him on the other side. Corim was already twenty paces ahead, and Jayson shouted, “Get on the barge and untie it! Don’t wait for me!”
Corim didn’t acknowledge him, merely gained another five paces as Jayson lagged, blood flowing freely down his calf. His breath tore at his lungs. His heart shuddered in his chest. Every fiber of his body trembled with exhaustion, tingling with spent adrenaline.
Corim rounded the last bend in the road, the creatures shrieking as they bounded in to cut him off. But they hadn’t gained enough on the boy. Jayson heard Corim’s feet thundering on the wooden planks of the dock, then rounded the curve, the sound of the river suddenly loud, breaking through the pounding of Jayson’s heart in his ears and his heaving breath. He caught Corim frantically untying the barge, the guiding rope tied to the small dock arching down and out into the darkness, the river glinting with lantern light.
The two creatures were charging the dock.
With a roar, Jayson flung himself forward, dropping his lantern as he reached for them, swinging with his knife. His blade sank into the flesh of one, its scream shattering the rush of the water, the creature scrambling away to one side. His hand closed about the leg of the other even as his body slammed into the ground.
He rolled, his roar cut off with the impact, grappling with the creature as it twisted in his grip and snapped at his face. The dirt from the road gave way to the wood planking of the dock as he brought his knife around, slicing down the creature’s back. It hissed as black blood splattered onto Jayson’s face, burning, but Jayson slashed again and again, striking the creature with each blow. It shrieked and then fell to the dock beside him, struggling weakly. He kicked it hard, watched it roll off the wood to splash into the river, leaving a trail of blood behind it, and then Jayson staggered to his feet.
The other creature he’d stabbed as he fell writhed on the sloped bank, a harsh keening filling the night. Others had emerged from the forest and were milling about just outside of the spill of the dropped lantern. Jayson counted at least ten, their eyes glaring in the darkness as they leaped forward and hissed before retreating. He could feel the creatures watching him, his skin prickling beneath their gazes, beneath their hatred. They seemed wary of the flames.
Or the water.
Someone snagged at his shirt. He lurched to one side before realizing it must be Corim.
“It’s untied,” the youth said, voice shaking. “Let’s go!”
Jayson nodded and pushed him toward the barge, keeping his eyes on the creatures. They screamed and grew frenzied as the two climbed into the bottom of the barge, Corim already pulling on the rope to draw them away from the dock and out into the river’s current.
Then, suddenly, all of the creatures on the bank stilled, heads turning toward the left side of the road. A few traded glances, their large, luminous eyes narrowed-
As abruptly as they’d appeared, they vanished, slinking back into the shadows beyond the light of the torch.
“Wait,” Jayson said, creeping forward in the barge. “Don’t pull us any farther out.”
“But-” Corim protested, the single word fraught with fear.
“They’re leaving.”
Jayson felt the barge rock as Corim shifted forward, his hand still on the guiding rope. The youth crouched down beside him. Exhaustion shuddered through him, and Jayson’s calf throbbed with pain, but he still reached out a reassuring hand and gripped Corim’s shoulder.
They watched the end of the dock and the roadway beyond, the light from the abandoned lantern flickering and threatening to go out. Far distant, over the tops of the trees, the glare of another fire pulsed against a thick column of billowing smoke.
Jayson’s heart had just begun to calm, the sweat on his skin cooling in the night air, when a branch cracked in the forest to the left. His muscles twinged as he started. Corim gasped.
He raised the knife before him, blade out.
Five figures emerged onto the roadway into the edge of the fading light from Jayson’s lantern and it took a moment before Jayson recognized them as dwarren. Half the height of either Jayson or Corim, they plowed through the underbrush, chopping at it with axes and short blades. Their beards were woven and braided with beads and feathers and pendants, their arms covered in metal bands, bodies with thick leather armor scored with patterns and whorls. Two of them carried long spears, the shafts etched with carvings, the tips shaped metal, like a rounded leaf.
The dwarren halted in the roadway, the leader of the group staring hard at the lantern, the body of the creature that now lay still, and Jayson, ignoring Corim completely. The pure hatred in the dwarren’s eyes, the sheer intensity of the emotion and the determination that bled from the dwarren’s body, left Jayson speechless.
The leader waved to the rest of the band, the gesture dismissive. The other four plowed into the forest on the far side of the road, the leader hanging back a moment, keeping his eye on Jayson. Then he vanished as well with a rustle of undergrowth and the dry snapping of branches.
Jayson didn’t move until Corim touched his arm.
“Those were dwarren,” the boy said.
“I know.” Jayson forced himself to relax, to lower his knife. He turned and grabbed the rope, the flat boat rocking at his movements, their only remaining lantern guttering in protest.
“They were headed toward the village.”
“I know!” Jayson spat. Without another word he hauled on the rope that connected this side of the river to the other. The rope sang as it pulled through the metal rings attached to each end of the barge, the wooden slats creaking as they moved farther away from the dock and into the river’s current. But the rope held. The current wasn’t strong enough here to make the crossing difficult, especially when the barge wasn’t laden down with supplies or horses.
“What do you think they were-?”
“I don’t know!”
Corim fell silent, his eyes wide.
When Jayson judged they were halfway across, he stopped. Shifting to the center of the barge, near the lantern, he squatted down, rubbed his hands together briskly, and blew on them for warmth. The night had turned chill. Corim joined him a moment later. They couldn’t see either side of the river; the lantern Jayson had dropped had burned out. The rope arched out into darkness on either side, the surface of the river glinting in ripples all around. The moon-barely more than a sliver-had risen above the surrounding hills, but it cast little light. The air was thick with the scent of water and smoke, and both Corim and Jayson reeked of fear sweat. Jayson could taste ash in
