“I will,” Paedrin answered, stepping free from the others and vaulting into the sky, the Sword of Winds slicing a Cockatrice in half as he lifted. Annon felt one pecking at his shoulder, tearing away strips from his cloak as it tried to shred his flesh. He grabbed the flapping wings and sent flames into its body. Hettie was also using the fireblood, as he could sense her drawing deep into her powers.
“There are hundreds!” Paedrin shouted from above them. “Maybe more! Another wave is coming this direction. I’ll meet them in the middle and try to scatter them. By the look, it’s a swarm!”
Annon felt them all around him, flapping and hissing and ripping at him. He invoked the power of the torc and the Cockatrice fled from him. He needed to find Phae so that he could help be a shield for her. The frenzy of the battle grew hot and fierce. Cockatrice were everywhere. Dead ones littered the ground. There was nowhere safe to turn his eyes, so he kept them clenched shut.
He could hear the slashing of blades, the spray of blood. This was butchers’ work.
“Phae!” Annon shouted.
“Over here!”
He listened to the sound and rushed closer to her, trying to endure the pain flaring at his neck as the magic of the torc seared his skin. His presence near her drove off the attacking Cockatrice and they flapped away, only to attack someone else. He could hear their wings beating over his head and sensed their will pressing against his to look up at them, to gaze into their terrible eyes and turn to stone. Annon raised his hands and sent up a whirlwind of flames.
“Paedrin, how many left?” Tyrus yelled.
Annon could hear the Bhikhu’s weapon as it sliced through another one. His voice was panting with exertion. “So many still! So many!”
There was another sound. A huffing, coughing growl. A deep snort, gruff and thick and menacing. Annon heard the snapping of branches and felt something looming from the woods. Its breath he could smell from quite a distance, the cloying breath of an animal that had been devouring the Cockatrice.
The burn in Annon’s neck was growing unbearable.
“Tyrus,” Annon warned, turning to face the new threat.
He heard Shion’s intake of shocked breath. “No!”
A new enemy had joined them. The beast let out a roar that turned Annon’s legs to water. He opened his eyes, seeing the hunchbacked beast, its fur the color of storm clouds. Its eyes were gone, gouged out by some horrible blade. The scars on its face were livid as it revealed long, pointed teeth. It wasn’t quite a bear, but had some resemblance to one. It was bigger than any creature Annon had ever seen. It rose on hind legs, its massive paws and claws swaying mesmerizingly.
The fear that shot down Annon’s legs made him stand rigid.
The mist. The fog. Horror rooted into his bones.
It was a Fear Liath.
“There are rumors of food shortages throughout the city. The people obviously are panicking and hoarding what they can. Of course, the larders will be full, for I know the Arch-Rike has stores aplenty. I believe the Preachán are the source of this saying: When the stomach is full, it is easy to talk of fasting.”
- Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos
XX
Phae could hear the shiver in Shion’s breathing. She dared not look up for fear of the Cockatrice, but the presence of this new enemy had changed the feeling in the air. The mist was colder somehow, knife-sharp, and caused her to tremble.
“What is it?” she whispered, afraid to grab his arm, for he had been slashing ruthlessly at the attacking creatures coming down from the treetops. One of the creatures had scored her arm and she felt her skin itching from the poison.
There was a deep huffing snort followed by a snickering sound at the back of its throat.
“A Fear Liath,” Kiranrao announced, his voice suddenly thick. “Our blades will not cut through its hide. Fire will not stay it. Its only weakness is sunlight—the hide is vulnerable then.”
“Bigger than a bear,” Baylen said gruffly.
“Watch out!” Hettie screamed.
Phae heard the heavy paws crunch into the mat of desiccated leaves as it charged directly at her. She lifted her gaze, knowing instinctively that she’d die if she did not. In that moment, everything slowed, and it felt as if her arms and legs were plunged into mud. She saw the look of wild terror in Shion’s eyes, saw the twisting snarl on his mouth as he seemed to relive a memory that, though shrouded, smashed against his feelings. She understood immediately what had given him his scars so long ago.