The Hollow: At The Edge (14 page)

The creatures began to
grow impatient as time wore on. Eventually they started bumping the
shield purposefully, and clawing at it. At one point, one of the
creatures moved in front of the group and blocked their passage.
When pushing it gently did not elicit a response, Serrel had
everyone take a big, fast step forwards, and slammed the shield
into the creature’s face.

That made it angry. It
threw itself at the shield and attacked it furiously.

“Same to you!” Serrel
snapped at it.

Without warning the
creature following behind them leapt into the air and landed right
on top of the shield. The sudden force transferred down into the
staff, and Serrel almost had his arm yanked out of his socket as
the staff was pushed down into the earth.

“Gods damn- Don’t!” he
snapped as a hand reached for the staff to help. “If you touch it,
the energy discharge will probably blow your hand off. Not to
mention dispel my shield.”

“Oh,” said Dogbreath.
“Well, now I know.”

Serrel glared up at the
creature, which stood balanced above them, with all six legs
splayed wide, a green glow in the air where its claws rested on the
barrier. It stared down at them, almost as if to taunt them.

Serrel gasped the staff
with both hands, and heaved upwards. With nothing tangible to hold
on to, the creature slid right off the shield, scrabbling
pointlessly for purchase as it fell to the ground. It landed
upright like a cat, and then launched itself at them angrily. The
other two joined in.

With no choice, Serrel
stood his ground and bore the attack as best he could, staff
shaking violently in his hands. For the first time, and at the
worst possibly moment, he wondered at the quality of Legion-made
warstaves. He hoped the enchanters had not slacked off.

Finally the creatures
tired of their impotent assault, and backed off.

“Fresh Meat?” Caellix
asked.

“I’m fine. Dhulrael,
how are we going?”

“I am afraid I am
approaching the end of my reserves,” Dhulrael said wearily. “We
might want to hurry.”

“I’m going as fast as I
can,” Caellix replied.

The group started off
again. The creatures continued circling them, waiting for their
chance.

“You’d think they’d
lose interest by now,” said Holly.

“They came especially
for us,” said Serrel. “If they were hunting, they would have gone
for something easier. They ran right past that stag.”

Caellix sniffed. “Not
bad, Fresh Meat,” she commented. Serrel couldn’t see her face, but
he thought perhaps she wore a small smile.

“Someone sent these
things after us,” Serrel continued. “Like they sent the kraken, and
the sharks while we were at sea.”

Serrel felt an
unexpected drop in the energy flowing into him, before Dhulrael
regained control of his weaving.

“Pardon me,” said the
elf. “Did you say kraken?”

“Lots of kraken,” said
Holly darkly. “A whole school, or shoal, or whatever the hell
they’re called.”

“It was fun,” added
Brant. “Almost as much fun as this.”

“You were attacked by
kraken in the Dividing Sea?” Dhulrael asked again in amazement.
“But that would be... That is impossible.”

“Apparently not,”
replied Caellix coldly.

“It was not a natural
aggregation?”

“A what-ey what?” asked
Brant.

“No, of course not,”
Dhulrael said to himself. “Kraken rarely come to the Dividing Sea,
even at this time of year...”

“What are you
blathering about?” snapped Caellix.

“He’s saying what we
already know,” said Serrel impatiently. “It wasn’t normal, and
someone sent the kraken to attack us. Sergeant how far?” he asked
the more important question.

“Not far. Listen.”

On the edge of his
hearing, Serrel could just make out the sound of rushing water. Up
ahead, the dim forest suddenly became light as the tree line
inexplicably disappeared. Serrel suddenly had a bad feeling.

“What exactly was your
plan again?” he asked.

“There’s a cliff up
ahead, and if I’m right, it overlooks a section of the Sileril
River.”

“Oh,” said Holly
slowly. “Sergeant, you aren’t thinking...”

“If anyone has any
better plans, now would be the time to mention it.” Caellix waited.
“No? Then here’s what we do: Fresh Meat is going to walk us to the
cliff edge, and we are all going to dive over the side. We swim to
the other bank, and continue on our way. I trust everyone remembers
how to swim?”

“I remember you once
threw me in a lake so I would know how,” Holly replied
reproachfully.

“And aren’t you glad I
did?”

“What if they come
after us?”

“No creature is so
stupid it would follow its prey over a cliff,” replied Caellix.
“And these things, whatever they are, are not stupid.”

That seemed all too
true. Serrel saw one of the creatures glance towards the cliff
edge, then back at them. It growled. The closer they got to the
cliff, the more worked up the creatures became. They attacked the
shield more desperately. Eventually all three of them formed
themselves up straight in the group’s path and refused to move.
Serrel bumped them with the shield but they stayed steadfast. To
his mind, they even managed to look a little smug.

“What now?” Holly
asked.

Serrel felt Dhulrael’s
hand leave his shoulder. “I am sorry,” panted the elf. “That is all
I can dare to give you. I am at the edge of the abyss.”

“You’ve done enough,”
Serrel told him gratefully. He glared at the creatures. He was
still scared of them, but a little tiny spark of irritation was
starting to eat away at that fear.

Kraken, sharks, bloody
monster elves, and now these things. He was not getting eaten by
anything in the Faelands, and especially not by bloody creepy,
wolf-insect monsters.

“Get behind me,” he
told Caellix.

The sergeant complied.
“And?”

“Everyone, back up.
Slowly.”

They took several long
steps back in unison. The creatures stood in a line together,
watching in anticipation.

“And you all thought my
plan was bad,” Caellix said with grim smile.

Serrel took a deep
breath. “Everyone run for the cliff edge. Make sure I stay between
you and these things at all times.”

“Say the word, Fresh
Meat.”

Serrel reshaped the
shield, and lowered his staff so that it was pointing at the
creatures. They seemed to realise something was happening, and
lowered their heads.

You’re going to die,
and you’re going to kill everyone with you
, came a familiar
voice in his head.

Shut up, he thought
angrily.

“Go!” he shouted, and
charged at the creatures as fast as he could.

The three monsters
waited, bracing their legs and preparing to strike, to pounce on
his shield and stop his forward momentum. To block their
passage.

Serrel had heard that
very, very skilled mages could weave multiple spells at the same
time. It took a lot of concentration, and having only officially
been a mage for a little over a month, Serrel could only dream that
he would one day have that kind of skill. As it was, he had to plan
on being able to weave very, very fast.

Moments before the
creatures pounced, Serrel dispelled the shield, and weaved a wave
of force at the creatures fuelled by all the fear and anger that
had been repressed over the last few days. Fear of his death, of
the death of his friends, anger at his own inability to prevent it,
even the trepidation of the fact that he was going to have to leap
off a damned cliff into what he only hoped was deep water.

The wave was powerful,
more powerful than even he expected, but uncontrolled and
unrefined. It took a lot out of him, burning away more of his
energy than he should have, but it had the desired effect.

The creatures,
expecting a shield, and milliseconds from pouncing against it, were
lifted from the ground and hurled in different directions across
the forest. Two spun through the air to the left, the third flew
howling into a tree at a speed guaranteed to cause maximum hurt. It
was all rather satisfying.

Not that the group
bothered to look. They ran as fast as they could for the cliff,
Serrel slowing down to take up the rear and guard against the
monsters. He dropped his shield back into place just as as the
first one flipped itself acrobatically back to its feet and leapt
at him.

“Hurry up!” he yelled
at the others.

Caellix reached the
cliff, and paused. She yelled something in her own language, and
her dogs fearlessly leapt over the side and disappeared from view.
Dogbreath followed, grinning broadly, with Holly and Brant right
behind him. Holly screamed a rather crude curse word all the way
down.

Dhulrael simply closed
his eyes and jumped. Serrel thought he heard, “Oh, gods!” just
before the elf went over.

Caellix paused. “Come
on, Fresh Meat!”

Serrel backed quickly
towards her, not taking his eyes from the three creatures that
stalked towards him, clearly not happy. They backed him up against
the edge of the cliff with Caellix, his shield holding them at
bay.

He glanced briefly over
his shoulder. There was water below, moving fast. Faster than he
would have liked. The cliff probably wasn’t that high, in truth.
But from where he was standing it looked like an obscenely long way
down to Serrel. He did not see any sign of the other Hounds.

“You have to go first,”
he told Caellix.

She frowned at him,
clearly unhappy with that. “Don’t take all day, Fresh Meat,” she
said grudgingly.

Then she turned, and
dove from the cliff in a perfect, graceful arc. Serrel watched her
splash down and disappear beneath the turbulent river. He turned
back to the creatures, whose weird green eyes were all locked onto
him. One of them, the largest and most fearsome looking one,
stepped forwards towards him. It bared its teeth, mandibles opened
wide.

“Sorry, boy,” Serrel
told it. “Lunch is cancelled.”

He turned and jumped.
Unfortunately the creature bounded forwards and leapt after him.
Caellix had been wrong. A smart predator might chase its prey over
a cliff if it is sufficiently pissed off enough.

By chance, Serrel was
still weaving his shield as he fell, just as a precaution. The
creature slammed straight into it in mid air in a flash of green
light, the force of its impact sending him flipping head over heels
through the air as he plummeted downwards. Serrel caught glimpses
of the water below, the cliff speeding by him rapidly, and the grey
body of the creature twisting in mid air beside him as he spun
dizzyingly about.

He hit the river below
hard, on his back. The impact knocked him breathless as he dropped
straight down into the icy cold water. He flailed desperately as
the current picked him up and dragged him downstream. He ignored
the dark shadow that loomed over him, didn’t even notice the long
claws swiping at his face. He focused only on kicking his legs and
paddling with his arms to the surface.

He rose out of the
water, and gasped for breath, just as a large wave broke over his
head and nearly pushed him back under. He forced his way back up,
and emerged in glorious daylight to take deep, wonderful gulps of
air.

Then a huge clawed hand
slapped at the water not far from his head. The creature swam at
him, its long limbs moving deftly through the water, its eyes fixed
unwaveringly on its prey. Serrel could only paddle uselessly
backwards, unable to get away. His right arm moved to slowly,
weighed down by something. He realised too late that he had managed
to keep a hold of his staff.

With a single lunge,
the creature was on him. One paw landed on his chest, the long
claws digging into his left shoulder, and then its weight pushed
him back down into the icy water. The creature pushed him deep down
with powerful kicks of its legs. It’s mouth opened, mandibles
spread, jaws wide, as it moved forwards to make the killing bite.
Serrel was close enough to see its tongue was covered with sharp,
backward pointing barbs.

Painfully slow, he
lifted his staff and pushed it in front of him. The creatures mouth
closed over the end of his staff, and began to bite down.

Not knowing if it would
even work, Serrel weaved the ether into a ball of energy at the end
of his staff, and released it.

The creature’s head
exploded, turning the water red. Its limbs kicked and spasmed
uncontrollably in its death throes. Serrel frantically fought out
of the creature’s dying grasp, and kicked back to the surface. His
head popped back above the water, lungs burning, and he gasped for
air.

He just managed to get
his breath back, when something big and solid slammed into his
back. It was a large rock, poking through the water’s surface.
Serrel bounced off, and coughing and spluttering, continued
downriver before slamming into another one.

The river narrowed, and
grew fiercer and more turbulent. All he could do was try and stay
afloat as the current sped him dangerously through the rapids,
spinning him around, tossing him up and down. He tried to weave a
shield to fend off the rocks that threatened to break him apart,
but the force of the water churning around him sapped away too much
energy. He could only leave himself at the river’s mercy.

With one final plunge
over a deep cascade, Serrel was thrown back under the surface. His
staff was torn from his grasp and spun away out of sight. He
flailed and kicked, and fought as hard as he could to stay
alive.

Finally, the river took
mercy on him. As it widened, the raging water calmed, and the
rapids died away. Still carried rapidly downstream by the current,
Serrel swam with numb, aching limbs to the shore, and dragged
himself from the water.