Instead, there was a stillness that could mean only one thing: men were nearby.
For an instant Talon wondered if Magnus had returned, but somehow he knew that wasn’t the case. It just felt wrong.
Talon suspected there might be others on this island, people living south of the ridge whom Magnus didn’t want him to meet, at least not right now, but Talon didn’t think it likely they’d come calling unexpectedly. He put down the fishing rod and creel, then realized he had left his weapons in the hut.
He pulled a scaling knife out of the creel, a poor weapon, but better than nothing, and advanced slowly toward the hut, his every sense extended. He listened, he looked, he sniffed the air.
There seemed to be a presence near the hut, something unfamiliar, outside his experience. He had thought it might be someone at or in the hut, but now he considered it to be some thing.
A figure stepped out of the door, almost too quickly for his eye to have caught the motion, but in that instant he recognized a humanlike form, but one devoid of features. Detailless black from head to toe, it was a silhouette that flickered past his consciousness into the darkness of night.
He halted, keeping his breath as shallow as possible, using every sense to determine where the creature had gone. A slight shift in the air behind him alerted him to someone moving rapidly and silently at his back, and he dropped to his knees. Without hesitation, he struck backward with the scaling knife, a slash that would have taken any man somewhere between knee and groin.
An inhuman warbling cry erupted through the night as the blade struck something, and Talon was knocked over by a tremendous blow to the right shoulder, as if a large body had fallen into him.
Talon used the momentum of his fall to tuck and roll back up to his feet, and as a gust of air went past him, he knew he had somehow dodged a blow from another unseen assailant. By instinct alone, he sensed that two attackers were behind him, and he leapt forward, toward the hut. If he had any hope of surviving this attack, he had to reach his sword.
The hair on the back of his neck rose as he neared the door of the hut, and without looking back he dived through the door, landing hard upon the floor as something invisible cut through the air where his chest should have been.
He slid on his stomach under the table and turned, coming up quickly with his sword. He cast aside the scabbard and kicked the table toward the door, to slow whoever might be coming though.
The table struck something just inside the door, and Talon saw the darkness in the doorway move. A figure appeared framed in the door, one he could see only because of what it blocked out behind, for light from the early-evening sky still illuminated the branches and leaves, but the silhouetted form blotted out all detail.
Then the thing was in the hut. Talon saw only a man-shape of featureless black as if light was not reflected off its surface. He knew there was another, still outside, so he retreated to the hearth and impulsively grabbed a burning brand from out of the fire, holding it aloft in his left hand.
The creature’s hand lashed toward him, and Talon ducked to his right. Pain erupted across his left shoulder. The creature’s hand retracted, and for a brief instant Talon thought he saw a faint movement in the air, as if a lash were being drawn back. Talon didn’t have to look to know he had been cut by some invisible weapon. He could feel burning on his shoulder and dampness spreading as blood seeped from the wound.
There came a flicker near the door and Talon knew that another of his unseen assassins had entered the room. Another flicker out of the corner of his eye warned him and he fell to the right. More pain shot down his arm, but he knew that had he not moved, it would have been his throat bleeding instead of his arm.
He fell hard against the wing-arm holding the kettle as he hit the floor, rolling away from where he assumed the assassin to be. The kettle swung back hard into the fireplace and overturned, dumping the remaining stew upon the blazing fire, and the room erupted in steam and soot.
Suddenly Talon could see a leg before him, outlined in the air. Without hesitation, he lashed out with his sword at the creature’s leg, and the same warble of pain he had heard outside was repeated inside, at greater volume.
The hut filled with smoke and Talon could see three figures clearly outlined. They were man-shaped, and they seemed unarmed, yet he knew that to be a false impression. Talon scooted back against the wall.