Balanced on one foot, she single-mindedly hacked at the creatures. Without a ready source of meat, many just scurried in circles, their claws clicking at empty air. Some helped her cause by feeding on their brethren.
Agile as Karigan was, it was difficult to chase the creatures down on one foot. Her blade bounced off shells that grew harder with every passing second. Soon, the eagle deemed The Horse safe enough to be left alone, and took up the hunt, tearing the creatures apart with his powerful talons. His keen eyesight assured that not one hatchling escaped.
The Horse’s chestnut hide was nicked and streaked with blood where the hatchlings had bitten him, but as the effects of the sting waned, he could lift his head and move his legs. Karigan wiped her yellowed blade on a clump of moss. The ground was littered with destroyed hatchlings. The wolf had disappeared in the mayhem.
Sensation crept into her right leg like the sting of a hundred hornets. She didn’t even want to think about what the parent creature had done to her ankle with its claw.
“What are these creatures?” she asked the eagle.
They’ve come from Kanmorhan Vane. All things there are corrupt.
“Kanmorhan Vane?”
The Blackveil Forest which your country borders, he said. Kanmorhan Vane is its Eltish name. A friend of mine, an owl, told me there is a breach in the D’Yer Wall through which the creature came. I’ve been tracking it for two days.
Blackveil Forest figured in more stories about evil than Karigan had heard about wolves. She was inclined to believe those stories in light of her encounter with the creatures; stories of how Mornhavon the Black sickened the once verdant forest with his magic. Everything that dwelled there, it was said, became evil. After the Long War, Aleric D’Yer had begun a wall along the Sacoridian border where Blackveil threatened to spread its roots, even though the evil of Mornhavon the Black had been vanquished.
A block of granite from the wall was on permanent display at the Langory Museum in Selium, though she doubted many paused to consider its significance. The wall had stood for so long that it was taken for granted, and most information about Blackveil was held as superstition. After all, how could a mere wall prevent such a dark force from encroaching across the border? The stories about Blackveil, Karigan thought, could not have been exaggerated if the parent creature had come from there.
When you see your king, the eagle said, you must warn him of the breach. If the one creature made it through, others are bound to follow.
When you see your king . . . Karigan wasn’t at all confident she would succeed after this experience, but she felt more hopeful than just a few minutes ago.
The eagle cocked his head, as if listening. In the moonlight, his gray feathers were not dull, but rippled with subtle blues, greens, and golds.
I hear the parent, he said.
Karigan froze. The hand that held her saber shook.
It must not live, the eagle said. I will help you as well as I can.
“What?”
You must slay the parent, he said, annoyance in his voice. It mustn’t be allowed to lay any more eggs.
“How am I supposed to—”
The underbelly is soft. So is the tissue between the joints.
Vegetation rustled as the creature drew nearer. How was Karigan to reach the creature’s underside? She would have to be beneath it before she could reach with her saber.
Avoid its blood, the eagle said. It’s not diluted like that of the hatchlings. It will burn you, and maybe poison you if you touch it.
They didn’t have to wait long. The creature scuttled into the clearing, driving a terrified red fox before it. When the creature saw the carnage of its young, and the destroyed web, it screamed in rage, a high-pitched whistle racking the forest. Karigan dropped her sword and clapped her hands over her ears. The fox kept running, and without a web to stop it, was safely free of the creature.
The whistle faded and Karigan uncovered her ears. The creature charged her. She stumbled backward and landed hard on her buttocks, gaping at the creature looming over her, its antennae whipping the air above.
The eagle dove between the creature’s flailing claws, narrowly escaping being snapped shut in one pair. The creature shook tail feathers from its claw and hissed in fury. It swatted at the eagle with its tail.
The eagle dove at the creature’s eyes. Don’t just sit, he chided Karigan from mid-flight. It must be killed.
She curled her fingers about the hilt of her sword. An invisible pair of hands slipped under her arms and helped her up from the ground. There was no time to think about the unseen help as the creature made steady progress toward her, despite the eagle. The weight on her right foot sent the hornets prickling up and down her leg.
A claw whistled within inches of her nose. She ducked and felt the whoosh of air as it clamped shut where her head had just been. A frontal assault, evidently, was not the most advantageous. She limped away from the creature’s line of sight and lethal claws, but it was quick. A claw struck her across the shoulders from behind, knocking her face first into the ground. She gasped for breath, trying to gain her bearings.
Messenger!
Karigan turned at the eagle’s warning. An open claw descended on her, but a flurry of fur darted from the vegetation and straight at the creature. The wolf!
The creature paused its attack at this new distraction. The wolf snarled, wove between the creature’s legs, and caused it to stumble.
Again, the invisible hands helped Karigan to her feet and handed her the sword. She ran-limped to the creature’s rear, but it was too quick and swiveled around to attack her directly. The tail whistled overhead. Sweat slicked her back and every step on her bad foot was agony. She couldn’t get close enough to the creature’s belly without facing the claws or tail.