manacles. She didn’t concern herself with where she placed her feet, didn’t worry if black-taloned hands would come reaching toward her from between the bars. She trusted to her instincts and training and just ran. When she drew near the manacles, she reached down without pausing and snatched them up. She turned then ran for Zabeth, who was still trying to get up but with no more success then she’d had before.
In the back of Makala’s mind, she knew that the archers could pick her off anytime, for skilled as she was, she hadn’t a shifter’s reflexes to help her dodge arrows. She also knew that if Erdis Cai chose to, he could intercept her whenever he wished and toss her about like a rag doll, just as he’d done with poor Zabeth, but she had no control over either of those things. Emon Gorsedd had taught her to ignore what she couldn’t control, so she kept on running. Either she’d reach Zabeth or she wouldn’t. At least she wouldn’t simply have sat still and watched her friend be torn to pieces.
Up to this point, Makala had avoided looking through the grating, but as she approached Zabeth, she glanced downward. She saw dozens of hairless shapes moving like pale shadows beneath her, and she knew the ghouls were converging on Zabeth. Makala began swinging the manacles over her head as she closed in on her friend, just as the first mottled-fleshed hand came up between the bars and reached for Zabeth’s left arm. Makala let out a battle cry as she swung the manacles with all her strength at the ghoul’s grasping hand. The shackle smashed into the pale fingers, breaking the creature’s claw-like fingernails. The ghoul screeched in pain and withdrew its hand, but more came to take its place-many more. Makala swung her improvised weapon with desperate, almost maniacal fury as she struggled to drive off the savage ghouls and save Zabeth, but there were too many of them and only one of her. Her arm and shoulder started to go numb, and despite her efforts, some of the ghouls had managed to wound Zabeth, and the shifter sobbed as her blood ran down into the pit below them, further exciting the ghouls. Makala refused to give in. She would fight to her dying breath and if possible beyond.
“Hold!”
The word echoed through the amphitheater like thunder, and the ghouls broke off their attack. They crouched below Zabeth, hissing softly as they cast covetous glances at the blood dripping from the shifter’s wounds, but as much as they might long to, they made no move to feed. Makala stood panting for breath, the manacles dangling at her side. She turned to see Erdis Cai striding toward her. It might have been due to fatigue, but it looked as if the vampire lord walked several inches above the grating instead of on it.
“Congratulations, Makala.” Erdis Cai stopped a few feet away from her, and if he’d been walking above the bars before, he stood upon them now.
“For… what?” she gasped.
“For proving yourself worthy.”
Makala scowled. “You mean this was… a test?”
Erdis Cai smiled, and this time he seemed to have no qualms about displaying his sharp incisors. “Indeed, and you cannot possibly know how happy you’ve made me.”
“You bastard!” Makala swung the shackle at Erdis Cai’s face, intending to knock those damn teeth of his out of their sockets, but the vampire reached up and caught the chain with unnatural ease.
“The test is finished. There’s no further need to prove yourself.” Cai looked down at the ghouls crouching below.
“Finish the bitch,” he ordered.
The ghouls shrieked with delighted lust, Makala shouted “No!” and poor Zabeth screamed. But not for long.
Now that the Mire was several hours behind them and the sun had set, Hinto seemed to finally be relaxing a bit, which was a relief to Ghaji. The halfling had held his own during the escape from the Mire, and Ghaji respected that, but he found Hinto’s “emotional instability,” as Diran put it, hard to stomach. During one of the halfling’s low periods, he’d been standing at the port rail, weeping softly. Diran had taken Ghaji aside and explained that the trauma of losing his crewmates and surviving on his own in the Mire had taken a heavy toll on Hinto’s mind. They needed to be understanding and patient with the halfling while he came to terms with what had happened. Ghaji was all for being understanding and patient as Hinto’s wounded spirit healed, but did the halfling have to be so damn annoying in the process?
Hinto once more stood at the Zephyr’s port side, running his hands appreciatively over the surface of the railing.
“I never thought I’d ever get to see soarwood, let alone sail on a vessel made from it,” he said. “It’s so smooth that the hand slides over it as if it were ice. No wonder this craft can sail so swiftly.”
Ghaji sat not far away, honing his axe blade with a sharpening stone. He didn’t know if the halfling was talking to him or merely thinking aloud. Either way, Ghaji saw no need to reply. Tthen Diran, who sat next to him, restocking his cloak pockets with daggers he’d taken from the pack between his feet, gave Ghaji a look, and the half-orc sighed.
“She’s a fine vessel,” Ghaji said, then he shot Diran a glance that said, There, are you satisfied?
Hinto turned away from the railing and came over to join them, though the halfling didn’t sit and Ghaji didn’t ask him to.
“She’d certainly make an excellent pirate ship,” Hinto said. “She’s small enough that you could get close to other vessels before they had the chance to try and evade you, and she’s fast enough that you’d be able to outrun any pursuit. She’s too small to carry a large crew, though, so you’d have to choose your targets carefully so as not to find yourselves outnumbered, but-”
“We’re not pirates,” Ghaji said. “We’re…” He trailed off, unsure precisely how to describe what he and Diran did.
“Pilgrims,” Diran said.
A bit grand, Ghaji thought, but accurate enough, he supposed.
“Why are you trying to rescue that woman? Makala, right?”
Diran expression turned grim. He returned his attention to resupplying his cloak pockets from among his collection of daggers.
Hinto leaned forward and peered into Diran’s pack. “You’ve got a lot of knives in there. Steel, iron, silver…” Hinto pointed. “Are those wood?”
“They are,” Diran confirmed without taking his attention from his work. “The foul creatures that Ghaji and I battle have varying strengths and weaknesses. Some are affected by all metals, some only by certain kinds, while others aren’t affected by metals at all. I must be prepared.”
Ghaji knew that Diran had many more types of daggers beside those he’d already named. He carried blades fashioned from stone, ivory, jade, and crystal, most of which he’d fashioned himself. He also owned several daggers that possessed magical properties: a couple that had been given to him by Tusya, his mentor in the church, while the others had been acquired during various missions over the years.
“Must make for a heavy burden,” Hinto said, eyeing the pack.
“In more ways than one,” Diran said softly.
The halfling frowned. “I just thought of something. If your pack’s full of knives, where do you carry your other supplies, such as a bedroll and the like?”
“He doesn’t,” Ghaji said. “I carry supplies for both of us in my pack. One of my primary duties is to serve as Diran’s mule.”
The priest looked up at him and smiled. “You’re stubborn as a mule, I’ll give you that.”
Ghaji grinned. “And proud of it.”
Hinto’s eyes widened and he took two steps backward. At first Ghaji didn’t understand why, then he realized he’d bared his teeth when he’d smiled. An orcish smile, even one half-orcish, was enough to give even the strongest warrior pause, let alone an emotionally disturbed halfling. Ghaji felt a sudden wave of shame. How many times in his life had he accidentally frightened people because of the way he looked? He wasn’t above taking advantage of his appearance in battle-he’d done so many times during the Last War. Sometimes he forgot the effect his appearance had on others, forgot that too often it was a mistake to relax his guard and act like he was just another person talking, laughing, and smiling with friends. He wasn’t “another person.” He was a half-orc and always would be.
