“We’ll make too much noise. They can probably smell us anyway. Perhaps it’s better to stand our ground.”
“Up ahead then,” I agreed, pointing to a small clearing a few yards from where we stood. “At least we’ll be able to see them coming.”
Without hesitating, both of us rushed forward. As we entered the clearing, we stood with our backs to one another, slowly circling as we faced the surrounding trees. It only took a moment before we heard the rustle of undergrowth—creatures moving steadily, stealthily toward us.
The thorn bush to my right shook, and I spun to face it head-on with my sword drawn and ready.
The blade tremored in my hand when I caught sight of the creature emerging from the undergrowth.
It was huge, the same size as a fully-grown fanged beast, but it was ghost white and severely malnourished—under a thin layer of short hair, I could see its bones sticking out at odd angles. Its jaws were large, the bottom half hanging down to show razor-sharp teeth as it drooled in my direction. Most horrifying of all were the eyes—they were completely white, as if the creature was constantly rolling them back in its head.
I stood still in terror, and felt Memenion do the same behind me. More of them appeared from the undergrowth, leering at us, panting and scratching at the floor as they waited to pounce.
Ash
Before I could take a moment to steady my shaking hand, they leapt at us.
Memenion roared as he lashed out with his blade, and I crouched low, ready to do the same. The creature landed in front of me, a forked tongue darting from its mouth, tasting the air. It reared up, the sharp blades of its teeth ready. I volleyed my sword upward, hitting the roof of its gaping mouth. The steel came into contact with brittle bone, and the tip of my blade came out the other side of its skull. It screeched, the rest of its body spasming in pain. With as much force as I could muster, I yanked the blade back out.
Before I could take a breath, another was upon me. While I fought it off, I could hear the neat splicing of arrows hitting their targets as Memenion fired one after the other into the undergrowth.
“There’s too many!” he roared.
“I know!” I cried back. I had only injured the second creature. Another one was taking its place, with more snapping, waiting their turn behind. “We need a barrier—now!”
“We’ll trap them in with us!” Memenion argued, flinging his bow to the floor and replacing it with his broadsword.
“We’ve got no choice,” I panted as I released another volley of blows. “Do it—NOW!”
I flung the creature backward, and latched on to Memenion’s mind as best I could. Our energy connected. Memenion’s fear and rage met mine. The barrier emanated from us with a ‘whoosh’, knocking back most of the creatures as its clear blue light surrounded us. Two of the beasts remained.
Memenion and I made quick work of them—Memenion sending one of the creature’s heads flying as he hacked at it with the scythe.
I slumped onto the ground, drained. I was covered with foul-smelling blood, a strange milky-red substance that turned my stomach.
“What the hell are they?” Memenion breathed as he collapsed on the ground beside me.
“The reason sane sentries avoid the Dauoa,” I muttered.
The creatures were circling us, growling at the barrier and sniffing at its near-invisible wall, their forked tongues flickering in the air.
“You know, I think they’re blind,” I stated, remembering how the first creature had seemed to ‘taste’ the air before launching itself on me.
“You could be right,” Memenion agreed, “though it doesn’t make much difference. Their other senses are obviously heightened.”
“I suppose we wait,” I sighed, leaning back on my elbows.
Memenion nodded, about to lie down, but then he paused.
“Can you hear that?”
I listened, only hearing the sounds of the hungry growls.
“What?”
“Someone’s coming this way,” he replied. “I can hear footsteps.”
I hoped it wasn’t Hadalix. We couldn’t shout out and warn him from the barrier, and unless he saw us first, he wouldn’t know that he was about to stumble into a feeding frenzy.
Using True Sight, I followed Memenion’s intent gaze. I didn’t see anything for a few moments. I kept looking, and soon enough the distinct royal-blue robes of Queen Trina came into view.
“Queen Trina.”
Memenion nodded, perceptibly relaxing.
“It will be an undeservedly swift end for her,” he said with a grimace. I wasn’t so sure. Queen Trina was deadly—and, though I hated to admit it, a far superior sword fighter than Memenion or me.