He peered out from behind the boulder again, and as soon as he did, fear struck him like a punch in the stomach.
He yanked his head back. Blood drained from his face. His vision swam; he felt light-headed.
He only saw one of the creatures, but it was enough. It was close—on the other side of the boulder. Far too close for comfort.
The tall creature wasn’t walking anymore. It was standing patiently, legs apart, as if waiting for something. It wasn’t a trull, or a human, and certainly not a bax, skalen, or mantorean. It was something altogether different.
Something truly terrifying.
The monster was at least eight feet tall, with red skin, where it wasn’t covered by a gray robe fastened at the waist. Completely hairless, the creature had a pair of short, pointed horns, pale yellow in color, on either side of its crown. Sweeping brow ridges descended to deep, angular eyes, with dark, glaring irises. The creature’s face was flat and narrowed to a sharp, triangular chin, but its mouth was its most chilling feature. It was all teeth, row after row of them, and looked like it could bite a man’s arm from his shoulder.
Vance put his hands to his temples. What did he just see? Was his mind playing tricks on him? He had seen bigger creatures at the arena in Zorn: wyverns, olegs, and hellstingers. But this was a thinking creature, and it was a giant compared to the other races. It had to be a thinking creature, because it wore clothing and boots and carried a pack on its back.
Why had it stopped? Where was the second one?
Before he could think about it too hard, he stuck his head out again. The creature was still standing in the same place, but was now rummaging in its pack to remove a metal box, the size of its hand, with a smooth, black, glossy surface. Its hand was huge. The fingers were like the grasping talons of a raptor.
Vance brought his head back in. He had to leave. This was something he couldn’t handle alone.
Then he went completely still. He stopped breathing.
He turned and there was a face next to his.
Fiery eyes as red as the crimson sun glared at him. He saw a leathery visage that looked as hard as cut stone. Angular brows came together above the eyes, descending to a pair of flared nostrils and a mouth that was a cavern of jagged yellow spikes. Hoarse breath wheezed from the monster’s chest.
Vance fumbled at his sword, but the moment was lost. A huge hand gripped him by the throat. The creature hoisted him into the air, lifting him high above the ground. Vance’s eyes were wide open. He took in the rest of the creature holding him.
This monster was even taller than its companion, with broad shoulders and legs like tree trunks. A black symbol was blazoned on the creature’s brown clothing, a wicked knife hung from its belt, and its right hand held a long spear with a slightly-curved blade at the end. The monster’s other hand held Vance at eye level, with his feet dangling above the ground.
But more than anything, the horns . . . the horns filled Vance with horror. They were nothing like those of its smaller companion. This monster’s horns were sharp and curling. They were an evil shade of red, as red as fresh arterial blood.
As the monster inspected him, Vance choked. He tried in desperation to suck in a lungful of air, but the grip around his throat was too tight. His head was turned side to side. The monster looked him up and down, taking in his height and frame.
Vance’s chest screamed at him, telling him to breathe. He saw starbursts, but then even the pinpricks of light faded as his vision began to close in. His body convulsed. He heard a loud roar in his ears.
The monster made a sound of disgust. It turned, so that Vance’s back was to the gully, and with a strong movement the monster threw him.
Vance’s limbs flailed. He sailed over the edge of the deep gully, where the drop was undoubtedly long enough to kill him.
He felt hundreds of prickly spikes in his back, an instant before he heard the sound of a great number of twigs breaking. He hit branches a moment later, then his arm struck a thick tree trunk. His leg caught onto a root, twisting his body so that he rolled over and over as he tumbled. He grabbed hold of more roots as he fell, but each came out of his hands. Instead, his back smacked onto dirt, he rolled again, then he slithered down a steep slope of rocks and gravel until he came to a halt at the bottom of the dried-up watercourse.
It took him a few moments to realize he was alive.
He lay in the position he had landed in, waiting for extreme pain to fire from somewhere on his body. Slowly, bit by bit, he moved to a sitting position. He was shaken as he checked himself over. He was bruised, but nothing was broken.
Vance pushed himself to his feet. With staggering steps, he started to walk. He headed toward where he had left Taimin, Selena, Ruth, and Lars.
As soon as he could, he broke into a run.
Ingren waited with her medical array in hand. It was a versatile device with multiple functions, and the only item of advanced technology she had brought with her from the outside world. Ungar had tried to dissuade her—a quest was supposed to be a return to a primal mode of existence—but she patiently explained that every advisor on every quest must have brought one. How else would the trophies be preserved for the journey back to Agravida? Ungar had relented when he realized he wouldn’t be praised for returning home with five stinking, rotting heads.
Ingren kept her ears pricked for any sound of fighting. She heard a grunt, and a crash like an animal charging through a thicket, but then nothing—no clash of weapon on weapon, no roar of triumph when Ungar ultimately took his trophy.
Her head swiftly turned when she saw her bondmate approach, but her heart sank when she saw his angry stride. Ungar’s red eyes blazed, reflecting the last of the day’s light.
Ingren gave him an inquiring look as he marched toward her. “Well?” she asked.
“He was not the one I am after,” Ungar grunted. “He separated himself from the group to spy on us. These humans are wily. They likely scouted and saw us coming. We will be more careful in future.”
“And?”
Ungar firmly planted the base of his spear on the ground. He tossed his head. “I took him easily. He was a poor fighter. I could see that at a glance. Far from a worthy opponent.”
“Be careful, bondmate. Anger may affect your judgement.”
“I am not angry. Merely disappointed.” His nostrils flared. “I was ready for a good fight.”
Ingren returned her medical array to her pack. She glanced up when she heard Ungar bark a laugh.
“You will certainly not be needing that. Come. It will soon be dark. We must increase our speed. My true quarry will not be far away.”
6
“This is not good,” Lars said in a grim voice.
Selena glanced at the older man, then returned her attention to the cliff in front of her. As they had followed the gully, the walls had become taller until they found themselves in the bottom of a gorge, bounded by sheer rock faces. Then the worst happened: the gorge terminated in a steep cliff.
They were boxed in.
Selena turned from the cliff to look over her shoulder at Taimin. He stood farther back, gazing down the gorge and watching intently. Soon the golden sun would fall below the horizon, and with the crimson sun already passed from the sky, it would become much more difficult to see. Taimin pulled his sword hilt a little way and dropped it back into his scabbard again, checking that it was ready to draw at short notice.