“Then I suppose we will need a Finder,” she said.
Somewhere in the deep darkness of the Alkire, a creature roared. It was then that Annon noticed the subtle mist snaking through the boulders.
“The wilderness is full of monsters, it is said. What men fear most is their unrealized expectations. A dark alley. A thief with a knife. A thousand regrets of what will never be. This is fear.”
– Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos
A chill descended on the little camp. Wispy tendrils of fog seeped slowly, bringing fear with the cold. Paedrin turned and stared at the darkness of the woods, gripping his shattered staff; he looked at the others. Annon felt his fingers tingle with heat, and he prepared to whisper the words that would summon the flames. Would such a being be immune to it? He hoped not.
Erasmus poked the ground with a stick, muttering to himself. “How many men did Kiranrao have? How many were slain? We saw the bodies. The chance for each of us surviving until daylight is bleak. Perhaps only two of us will. Those are bitter odds.”
“Say nothing,” Paedrin said, striding to the fringe of the firelight. “I hear something moving in the woods.”
Hettie came to her feet at once, bringing out her hunter’s bow and nocking an arrow. Her arms trembled.
“Be still!” Paedrin hissed. He stared into the woods, listening.
Another roar sounded, closer this time. The size of the creature, the noise it made terrified Annon. What were they facing? What was it that hunted them? He thought about his talisman, stuffed in a pouch at his waist. It was useless to him unless he wore it around his neck. Had the spirits tried to warn him earlier? Or were they gibbering in fear as well?
There was a crunch and crash deep in the blackness, followed by a shower of branches.
The fire snapped and hissed as the mist curled around the stones hedging it in. A thick, silent fog came from the trees above, blotting out the stars.
“Do we run?” Annon whispered, his throat dry.
Paedrin held up his hand, his head cocked. “It’s coming from below, not above. I hear it in the woods.”
“I hear nothing,” Hettie said, swinging the bow around and aiming it down.
Paedrin took a deep breath and exhaled it quickly. He turned to the others. “When it comes, I will slow it. You run as far and as fast as you can. Try to find shelter, a cave or something narrow where it may not fit.”
“You are coming with us,” Hettie insisted.
Paedrin shook his head. “Remember the Uddhava. Trust me, I will not be easy prey. I will make it hunt and chase me all night if necessary. I am faster than all of you. It improves the odds of our survival if I face it alone.”
“No,” Hettie said.
“Your injuries,” Annon said, his stomach lurching. He respected the Bhikhu now. The thought of losing him was painful. “This is not fair to ask of you.”
There was a half-smirk in response. “Of course it isn’t fair. But I promised I would be your protector. My duty is not yet fulfilled, and I will face it. Get ready, it comes.”
Even Annon could hear the approach from the south. Twigs and branches snapped and cracked. The crunch of vegetation was obvious now. Annon tried to swallow his fear, but he could not. In a moment, they would see it.
“Be ready,” Paedrin said. “I will face it.”
“There!” Hettie said, bringing up her bow and stretching it back.
“Hold!” Annon said, bringing his arm down over hers. The figure approaching was large, but not monstrous. The girth was enormous, or Annon would have thought it was Tyrus. A bushy, mottled, gray-and-black beard emerged from the cowl of a cloak.
Paedrin paused, weapon ready, scrutinizing the stranger.
The voice was deep, as deep as a barrel. “You do not have much time to determine whether to trust me. But I can lead you to safety this night if you choose to believe me. Either way, the Fear Liath comes. Make your decision.”
Dark eyes appeared in the concealment of the cowl, which the stranger lowered, revealing a huge mane of gray-black hair. The mustache just below his nose was darker than the rest, as were his prominent eyebrows. But his swarthy skin and bulk showed him to be a Cruithne. And the talisman around his neck revealed he was also a Druidecht.
A gush of relief went through Annon’s heart on seeing the token. “I trust him.”
Hettie no longer resisted and released the tension in the bowstring.
“In a few more moments, your time to decide will be shattered by raking claws and the most horrible hide-stench you can imagine. You are in its lair still. I, for one, would prefer safety to debate. The choice is yours.” He turned abruptly and started back down the mountainside at a solid pace, crushing the branches and debris as he walked.
Paedrin glanced at Annon in surprise.
“He is Druidecht,” Annon said, grabbing Hettie by the arm.