Toll the Hounds
‘What was he doing at the gaol?’ Antsy asked, just to keep his friend talking for reasons even he could not explain. ‘How did he even find it, unless someone led him there? It’s all a damned mystery.’
‘He saved my life,’ said Barathol. ‘He was coming to break me out-he had my axe. Chaur, you fool, why didn’t you just leave it all alone?’
‘He couldn’t do that,’ said Antsy.
‘1 know.’
They arrived at the edge of the clearing, halting just beyond a low, uneven stone wall almost buried beneath vines. The gateway was an arch of rough stone veined with black roots. The house beyond showed a blackened face.
‘Let’s do this, then,’ said Antsy in a growl, coming round to the back of the cart. ‘Before the ox bolts-’
‘What are we doing?’
‘We’re carrying him up the path. Listen, Barathol, we got to stay on that path, you understand? Not one step off it, not one. Understand?’
‘No-’
‘This is the Finnest House, Barathol. It’s an Azath.’
The ex-sergeant seemed to be standing within a cloud of rotting meat. Moths swarmed in a frenzy.
Confused, frightened, Barathol helped Antsy lift Chaur’s body from the cart bed, and with the Falari in the lead and walking backwards-one tender step at a time-they made their way up the flagstone path.
‘You know,’ Antsy said between gasps-for Chaur was a big man, and, limp as he was, it was no easy thing carrying him-‘I was thinking. If the damned moon can just break apart like that, who’s to say that can’t happen to our own world? We could just be-’
‘Be quiet,’ snapped Barathol. ‘I don’t give a shit about the moon-it’s been trying to kill me for some time. Careful, you’re almost there.’
‘Right, set him down then, easy, on the stones… aye, that’ll do.’
Antsy stepped up to the door, reached for the knife at his belt and then swore. ‘I lost my knife, too. I can’t believe this!’ He made a fist and pounded against the wood.
The sound that made was reminiscent of punching a wall of meat. No rever-beration, no echoes.
’Ow, that hurt.’
They waited.
Sighing, Antsy prepared to knock a second time, but then something clunked on the other side of the barrier, and a moment later the door swung back with a loud squeal.
The tall, undead monstrosity filled the doorway. Empty, shadow-drowned eye sockets regarded them-or not; it was impossible to tell.
Antsy shifted from one foot to the other. ‘You busy, Raest? We need to make use of the hallway floor behind you-’
‘Oh yes, I am very busy.’
The Falari blinked. ‘Really?’
‘Dust breeds. Cobwebs thicken. Candle wax stains precious surfaces. What do you want?’
Antsy glanced back at Barathol… ‘Oh, a corpse with a sense of humour, what do you know? And surprise, It’s so droll’ He faced the Jaghut again and smiled. ‘In ease you ain’t noticed, the whole city has gone insane-that’s why I figured you might he suffering some-’
‘I am sorry,’ cut in Raest, ’is something happening?’
Antsy’s eyes bulged slightly. ‘The Hounds of Shadow are loose!’
Raest leaned forward as if to scan the vicinity, and then settled back once more. ‘Not in my yard.’
Antsy clawed through his hair. ‘Trust me, then, it’s a bad night-now, if you’d just step back-’
‘Although, come to think of it, I did have a visitor earlier this evening.’
‘What? Oh, well, I’m happy for you, but-’
Raest lifted one desiccated hand and pointed.
Antsy and Barathol turned. And there, in the yard, there was a fresh mound of raw earth, steaming. Vines were visibly snaking over it. ‘Gods below,’ the Falari whispered, making a warding gesture with one hand.
‘A T’lan Imass with odd legs,’ said Raest. ‘It seemed to harbour some dislike towards me.’ The Jaghut paused. ‘I can’t imagine why.’
Antsy grunted. ‘It should’ve stayed on the path.’
‘What do T’lan Imass know of footpaths?’ Raest asked. ‘In any case, it’s still too angry for a conversation.’ Another pause. ‘But there’s time. Soldier, you have been remiss. I am therefore disinclined to yield the floor, as it were.’
‘Like Hood I have!’ And Antsy reached beneath his tunic and tugged out a bedraggled, half-rotted shape. ‘I found you your damned white cat!’