Thrump. Thrump. Thrump.
He could hear a slow beating overhead, a dull, deep pumping. A blast of wind came from above, a massive downdraft of air. Along with it came the frightening sounds of cracking, snapping, splintering. The treetops shattered and exploded.
“Log!” Royce shouted as the horses jumped.
Hadrian kept his seat only by virtue of Royce’s agile grab. In the darkness, he heard Thrace’s scream, a grunt, and a sound like an axe handle hitting wood. The thief reined Mouse hard, wrestling with her, pulling the animal’s head around as she reared and snorted. Hadrian could hear Millie galloping ahead.
“What’s going on?” Hadrian asked.
“They fell,” Royce growled.
“I can’t see them.” Hadrian leapt down.
“In the thickets, there to your right,” Royce said, climbing off Mouse, who was in a panic, thrashing her head back and forth.
“Here,” Theron said, his voice labored, “over here.”
The farmer stood over his daughter. She lay unconscious, sprawled and twisted. Blood dripped from her nose and mouth.
“She hit a branch,” Theron said; his voice was shaking, frightened. “I—I didn’t see the log.”
“Get her on my horse,” Royce commanded. “Theron, take her and ride for the manor. We’re close. You can see the light of the bonfires burning.”
The farmer made no protest. He climbed on Mouse, who was still stomping and snorting. Hadrian picked up Thrace. A patch of moonlight showed a dark blemish on her face, a long wide mark. He lifted her. Her head fell back, limp; her arms and legs dangled free. She seemed dead. He handed her to Theron, who cradled his daughter to his chest and held her tight. Royce let loose the bit, and the horse thundered off, racing for the open field, leaving Royce and Hadrian behind.
“Think Millie’s around?” Hadrian whispered.
“I think Millie is already an appetizer.”
“I suppose the good news is that she bought Thrace and Theron safe passage.”
They slowly moved to the edge of the wood. They were very close to where Dillon and his boys had been hauling logs earlier that day. They could see three of the six bonfires blazing away, illuminating the field.
“What about us?” Royce asked.
“Do you think the Gilarabrywn knows we’re still in here?”
“Esrahaddon said it was intelligent, so I presume it can count.”
“Then it will come back and find us. We have to reach the castle. The distance across the open is about—what? Two hundred feet?”
“About that,” Royce confirmed.
“I guess we can hope it’s still munching on Millie. Ready?”
“Run spread out so it can’t get both of us. Go.” The grass was slick with dew and filled with stumps and pits. Hadrian got only a dozen yards before falling on his face.
“Stay behind me,” Royce told him.
“I thought we were spreading out?”
“That’s before I remembered you’re blind.”
They ran again, dodging in and out, as Royce picked the path up the hillside. They were nearly halfway across when they heard the bellows again.
Thrump. Thrump. Thrump.
The sound rushed toward them. Looking up, Hadrian saw something dark pass across the face of the rising moon, a serpent with batlike wings gliding, arcing, circling like a hawk hunting mice in a field.
The bellows stopped.
“It’s diving!” Royce shouted.
A massive burst of wind blew them to the ground. The bonfires were instantly snuffed out. A second later, a loud rumble shook the earth and a monolithic wall of green fire exploded in a great ring, surrounding the entire hill. Astounding flames, thirty feet high, flashed up like trees of light spewing intense heat.
No longer having any trouble seeing his way, Hadrian jumped to his feet and sped to the gate, Royce on his heels. Behind them the flames roared. Above them they heard a chilling scream.
Dillon, Vince, and Russell slammed the gate shut the instant they were inside. The bonfire in the courtyard, which had been unlit so far, startled everyone as it exploded into a brilliant blue-green flame, reaching like a pillar into the sky. Once more from the darkness above, the Gilarabrywn screamed at them.
The emerald inferno slowly burned down. The flames lost their green color and diminished until only natural flames remained. The fires crackled and hissed, sending storms of sparks skyward. The men in the courtyard stared upward, but there were no further signs of the beast, only darkness and the distant sound of crickets.
CHAPTER 6
THE CONTEST