In that same terrible glance, she saw the Fear Liath charging them, its maw thick with fangs. It came like a runaway wagon, hind legs enormous and powerful, thick and shielded with soot-gray fur. Its claws were like silver blades. It was beyond huge, radiating a primal energy and horrible stench that blacked out every part of her brain except the desire to flee.
Shion shoved Phae aside and was struck by the full force of the Fear Liath’s charge. She glanced off a tree, losing her footing and going down. She watched helplessly as the monster batted Shion away like feather fluff. He sailed across the grove before crashing into a thickset oak tree. The Fear Liath swiped its claws at Shion, gouging the bark of the oak with savage ferocity as the besieged man twisted away. Phae scrabbled to get to the other side of a different tree and heard its snout snuffling after her, drawn to her scent.
The Fear Liath roared, a sound so close and penetrating that she clamped her own ears with her hands, and still it pierced her. She tried to run but collided with the body of her father. She heard the crunch of the Liath’s bulk in the twigs not far behind.
Tyrus’s eyes were frantic. Grabbing her wrist, he pressed something into her hand, an uneven stone. His voice was harsh against her ear, short and curt. “If all fails, squeeze it. Squeeze it hard! Now flee! Get up a tree!”
He turned her toward the woods and shoved her to get her going. Phae stumbled and almost fell, but she managed to catch herself. Images flooded her mind of when she had fled from Shion in the mountains of Stonehollow. She had been terrified then. At this moment, she understood truly how deep fear went. The Fear Liath was immune to their attacks. It was hunting her. It would kill her.
“Shion!” she screamed in desperation, bolting into the mist-shrouded woods, leaving the others behind. A bear had attacked them in that abandoned house. His knife had killed it. This time, there was no weapon that could stop this creature.
A Cockatrice flapped straight toward her face, its claws slashing at her cheek. She ducked, feeling the claws shred through her hair, and ran deeper into the woods.
A blast of blue fire exploded from behind her and she heard the Fear Liath snort with derision and knock Tyrus aside. She could hear the sound of it savaging him, the shred of fabric, the grunt of pain from a man, not a beast.
Help us! Phae begged, running as fast as she could, sensing a Dryad tree just through the mist ahead. She didn’t know why she pleaded for help, or to whom she pleaded. It was instinctive, born of desperation and terror.
And then she heard the Fear Liath snuffling after her into the mist.
Paedrin was blind, but he could see the massive shape of the Fear Liath in the shadow world of his second sight. It was an inky black blur, a being that sucked in life and light from all around. It was the incarnation of death, a predator to both man and beast. He remembered the fear of facing one outside of Drosta’s Lair. This time, there was no Druidecht summoning them to a hollow trunk. He realized that if he had faced the beast that night, with a broken arm, he would have died almost instantly.
He whipped the Sword of Winds around, severing a Cockatrice in half. They were all around him, drawn to his presence as a challenge. Khiara had also risen, using her long staff to bat them away and scatter the rush. She was closing her eyes and so could not be effective, but there were enough that it was not difficult to hit one with almost every swing.
Paedrin swooped down, stabbing another from behind before flinging its carcass aside. The Fear Liath had left Tyrus in a heap and was turning again after Phae, who fled into the woods. Shion bounded after her, already trying to intercept it, fleet-footed and sprinting, but there was no way he could catch up in time. The monster was huge yet quick.
Snarling with frustration, Paedrin dived after Phae, surging through the trees to provide another obstacle. Suddenly Baylen struck the beast’s pelt with one of his twin broadswords. It was like watching a blade slice at ooze. The mass quivered, but the edge could not penetrate the hide. Tossing aside the weapons, Baylen grappled the Fear Liath with both hands, using his own mammoth strength to forestall it.
The Fear Liath snarled and twisted, slashing Baylen across the back with its claws. The Cruithne shrugged the blow, dropping low, and tried to heave the monster aside. The two were a tangle of mass, full of muscle and bone and savage sinews. Baylen kept away from its slavering jaws, gripping the pelt and shifting his stance to try to undermine its energy. He was using the Uddhava, changing his attack constantly, cuffing its snout when it tried to bite him again.
Paedrin soared right at it, aiming the Sword of Winds at its neck. The blade slipped harmlessly off its pelt.
“Help me!” Baylen roared. “Aran! Kiranrao! All of us!”