Continuing their journey on foot, the twelve wove their way through the dead barrier of pale trees until at last the blackwood loomed before them. Immense black trees, they were, with great limbs and crowns of broad crimson leaves. The bark of the blackwood trees was smooth and featureless except that it was as black as a pool of cave water.
“Keep your weapon at the ready,” Kaliam said, reaching over and adjusting the angle of Antoinette’s sword. “By my reckoning, we have about four hours before the sun begins to set. Even if we are not delayed, that will be a challenge.”
They stepped into the realm of the black trees and walked as briskly as they could, constantly ducking low-hanging boughs or stepping over the massive roots. Antoinette noticed that the warble of birds and the meeping of the frogs had ceased. In fact, no sound of any living thing could be heard. A cold breeze whispered between the dark trunks and swirled through the broad crimson leaves here and there as if quiet secrets were being shared from tree to tree. That was the only sound, and it was not comforting.
Aelic noticed Antoinette draw her cloak tight around her neck.
“There is a chill that seeps up through one’s boots,” Aelic said. “And through the cloak—right to one’s bones. No garment seems to hinder it. It is not natural.”
“It is a summons that you feel,” said Nock. “A call to all evil in The Realm. The call of the Seven Sleepers.”
“Do not fill their minds with such nonsense,” said Sir Gabriel sharply.
“It is not nonsense,” argued Nock. “Say that you cannot feel it. They are here, somewhere in the Blackwood, waiting.”
“Rubbish, Master Archer,” said Sir Gabriel with a dismissive wave. “In all your years in Yewland, did you ever find their final resting place, the Sepulcher, I believe it is called? Did any Yewland Brave in the history of your homeland ever find it?”
Nock frowned. “No,” he said reluctantly. “My brother Bolt and I rarely ventured deep into the Blackwood, nor did most of my kinsmen, for it is vast and treacherous. We did not wish to find the Sepulcher of the Seven Sleepers. But you do not need to see evil to know that it is there.”
“And yet, what one fears in the dark may not be there at all,” replied Sir Gabriel.
Nock grumbled.
“Nock, can you tell me more about the Seven Sleepers?” Antoinette asked. “They don’t sound pleasant, but I’d like to know what we may be up against.”
“I do not wish to speak of them now,” Nock replied, and he threw up his hood and hurried to catch up to Mallik.
“I would like to know also,” said Tal, turning to Antoinette. “My friend Matthias, a worthy knight who fell in Mithegard, spoke of them to me once, but that was long ago.”
“Yes,” agreed Lady Merewen. “I am intrigued. Is there any among us besides our disgruntled archer who knows more of this?”
“I will tell you the tale,” said Sir Oswyn.
“Kaliam, will you not stop this nonsense?” complained Sir Gabriel.
“No, I think we should all listen,” said Kaliam firmly. “It will at the very least help pass the time. And it may be wise to hear of the dangers if they should turn out to be more than legend.”
Sir Gabriel snorted and covered his head with his hood.
Oswyn began the story: “The Realm was new and no scrolls had yet been written. It is in the unwritten history of the Wyrm Lord where we find the lore of the Seven Sleepers.”
As he spoke, it seemed to Antoinette that it became darker in the woods. Is it getting late? she wondered.
“King Eliam discovered a magnificent dragon in the wild—the region we now call the Shattered Lands, some say. And behold, this wyrm was exceptionally intelligent and endowed with extraordinary powers—not only a breather of fire, but it could change form such that it looked like one of us. It could even speak. It was, in fact, the firstborn dragon in all The Realm, the lord of all wyrms. King Eliam grew fond of it, and the wyrm grew very fond of King Eliam.
“But when King Eliam took on a servant by the name of Torin, the friendship between the King and the Wyrm Lord became strained. The dragon grew jealous. While the King was hunting in the forest, the dragon assailed Torin’s Keep. Some say the Wyrm Lord broke down the gate. Others contend that he subtly tricked Torin into opening it of his own free will. But in any case, King Eliam returned and found Torin and his family slain. The King sought the Wyrm Lord everywhere, but the creature escaped for a time to the mountains. There a pack of seven wolvins agreed to hide him in exchange for the power to shape-shift. And—”
“But what of The Schism?” Nock interrupted. “When the Wyrm Lord killed Torin, that is when The Schism occurred. Right, Sir Oswyn?”
“That is a matter for scholars like Sir Gabriel to debate,” said Sir Oswyn. He turned to their ambassador, who lowered his hood and nodded respectfully at the compliment.
Antoinette thought something had moved high in the branches, and she looked into the treetops. But it was too dark to see anything distinctly. Why is it getting dark so quickly? she wondered. She started to ask, but Sir Oswyn continued his tale.
“The wolvins attempted to deceive King Eliam when he sought the Wyrm Lord in the mountains. By being able to change form at will, the villains escaped justice for a time. But the Master of the Realm, King Eliam the Everlasting, was not fooled. He eventually found the wyrm and his seven conspirators. He delayed judgment of the villains, but rather imprisoned them each according to his due. The wolvins he doomed to the long sleep, held beneath the earth by the roots of The Realm’s strongest trees, the blackwood. He locked the Wyrm Lord in a cell of stone beneath a lake of fire. It is said by many that one day, both the Wyrm Lord and the Seven Sleepers will be set free from their containment, but on what that may mean, there is much disagreement. Some contend that the villains will face final judgment at that time, while others believe that they will roam The Realm once more to wreak havoc upon the innocent. That is all I know of the Seven Sleepers.”
Sir Gabriel clapped in an exaggerated fashion. “Splendid, Sir Oswyn,” he said. “I do not believe a word of it, but it was a tale well-told. See Aelic and Lady Antoinette—they look stricken. You have them believing that at any moment we could trod upon the ancient burial sight of a sleeping horror.”
“I’m not afraid!” Antoinette blurted out. But in truth, she felt very uneasy. “Anyway, if the Seven Sleepers appear, Mallik will hit them so hard with his hammer that they’ll go deeper underground than they were before!”
The knights laughed quietly—all except for Aelic. “Are you okay?” Antoinette asked him.
Aelic shook his head. He was not okay. “It is not the Seven Sleepers, but rather a dream I had—” But remembering his promise to Kaliam not to speak of it, he would say no more.
They walked on for some time, and with each step, the tension grew. They were mostly bunched together, but Tobias and Gabriel walked a little apart and spoke in whispers. Tal had strategically placed himself between Mallik and Sir Rogan. Nock suddenly strode forward to catch up to Kaliam. Antoinette was convinced that Kaliam had goofed on his estimate of the time.
Maybe that’s why Nock went up to talk to him. He’s afraid we’re going to be stuck in the Blackwood after dark.
The sun was clearly on its way down. There didn’t seem to be any other explanation for the quickening darkness. Antoinette watched Nock whisper something to Kaliam. The Sentinel looked up and nodded. Slowly Kaliam turned and went from knight to knight, whispering something in each one’s ear. Each time he did so, the recipient of the message hastily put on a helmet and looked warily upward. What? Antoinette wanted to know. What’s up there? I can’t see anything. It’s too dark!
Finally, he came to Antoinette. “There are illgrets in the trees,” he said. “Do not move suddenly, but put on your helmet and ready your weapon.”
And just like that, he was gone to Oswyn and Farix behind her. Illgrets?!
“Aelic!” she whispered, urgently strapping on her helmet. “What are illgrets?”
“They are flying predators,” he said. He turned and drew near to Antoinette. “They gather in the trees above us.”
Antoinette strained to see into the dark of the treetops. “I don’t see anything,” she said.
“Illgrets are as black as night, and there are many. Did you notice that it seems near dusk even though there are yet several hours until sundown? That is because there is such a great number of them waiting above us that light is shut out. They do not need the light themselves, for they have dull eyes and see little but movement. They are drawn very accurately to our body heat. They wait until they have sufficient numbers to overwhelm their prey.”
“Can’t we run?” Antoinette asked.
“It is too late.”
Antoinette looked up. If possible, it seemed darker still. And the shadows seemed to be undulating. Antoinette tensed, clutched the hilt of her sword. Then came a shrill cry from above, and Kaliam shouted, “Now, warriors, draw your weapons! Stand back to back, and fight them off !”
Aelic drew Fury and backed up to Antoinette. And she drew the Daughter of Light. The darkness above swirled down on top of them. Then there was chaos.
Shrill cries exploded from every direction. A myriad of dark shapes swooped down on her. She swung her blade, felt a half-dozen strikes, and heard desperate screeches. She swung again, but illgrets were everywhere in greater and greater numbers. She felt like she was in a storm of claws, teeth, and dark wings. The only thing that kept her sane was the constant pressure of Aelic’s back behind her.
“Away from me, cursed fowl!” Mallik roared. Antoinette heard and felt his great hammer smashing clouds of the creatures to the ground. She heard a bowstring singing from somewhere up high, and she wondered where Nock was. But she could not linger on any thought for very long, for the illgrets came at her in fresh waves.
“Aelic!” she cried out. “There are too many!”
“Guard any exposed flesh!” he yelled. “Illgrets are drawn to your heat! And whatever you do, do not let one perch on you long enough to bite! There is sleeping poison in their saliva!”
“I won’t!” Antoinette screamed. She slashed her blade as if it were a machete through tall grass. Dozens of winged black shapes fell with each slash, but still more came. She heard Aelic grunting and heard wet snaps as Fury swept through a cloud of winged enemies.
Suddenly, one ducked under Antoinette’s sword and dove for her face. She screamed and dodged, but something sharp opened a gash on her cheekbone. She felt the thing on her shoulder, and tried to bat it away, but her armor made it nearly impossible.
Then Farix was there, and barehanded he grabbed the illgret from her shoulder. Antoinette heard a series of cracks and snaps and watched Farix throw what was left of the creature into the forest.
“It cut me!” Antoinette yelled furiously. She swung wildly, carving illgrets out of the air with every stroke.
“It was a talon strike!” Farix said. “Or you would be on the ground, dreaming dark dreams!” And then Farix disappeared into a swirling mass of black.
Another illgret swooped toward her face, tangled for a moment in her hair. Antoinette ducked frantically away and yelled, “Get away from me!” She went one-handed with her sword and whipped it low to high and at the same time backfisted an illgret with her left hand. They were everywhere.
“Antoinette!” Aelic cried out. She felt his body slide to the ground behind her. She slapped away several dark shapes, then turned to Aelic’s prone form. Fury was no longer in Aelic’s hand, and he lay very still. In an instant several dark shapes landed on Aelic and began to peck at him. Antoinette let out a rage-filled shriek, grabbed Fury with her left hand, and cut the heads off the scavengers. She stood over Aelic and began to swing both swords rhythmically in an undulating figure eight pattern. Illgrets fell in severed piles all around her, as if they had flown into a buzz saw.
But that didn’t stop them. They came at Antoinette from every direction. And now that Aelic was not at her back, she felt them pelting her from behind. The armor kept them at bay, but then one landed on her collar and went for her neck. But Antoinette whipped her head back, and the creature fell away. This isn’t working! Focus on the objective, Antoinette told herself. She kept both blades churning, but at the same time scanned the area. Through the cloud of black wings, she saw a broad tree just a few yards away. That’s it!
She suddenly sheathed her sword, grabbed at Aelic’s armor, and pulled with all her might. He was heavy, and the illgrets began to land on them both immediately. Still she managed to drag him a few feet. Then Sir Rogan appeared. He hoisted Aelic over his shoulder, and they ran to the tree. He eased Aelic down to the ground so that he lay against the tree as if napping. He turned to Antoinette.
“Does he live?!” he barked.
Antoinette knelt at Aelic’s side and felt for a pulse on his neck. She did not feel anything. “Come on!” she yelled, placing her fin gers in different places. Finally, she found it, a beat, faint but steady. “Yes!” she almost choked. “Yes, he’s alive!”
Sir Rogan smiled. His eyes flashed blue and narrowed in such a way that even Antoinette was afraid. “Stay low,” he said, and then he unleashed his axe. Antoinette watched with dark fascination as Sir Rogan swept his broadaxe back and forth so quickly it seemed he had two axes—no, three! Swarms of illgrets exploded in midair as the axe carved a wet swatch through the oncoming clouds. Pieces of the dark creatures were scattered everywhere.
Thok! Antoinette heard a loud impact and ducked reflexively, thinking that Sir Rogan had embedded his axe in the tree behind her. But when she looked up, she saw a Blackwood Arrow stuck in the tree. And impaled on its shaft were seven dead illgrets!
Thank you, Nock! she thought. Then she saw the illgrets up close for the first time. They were large and birdlike with scaly bodies and clawed limbs. But their eyes were what caused Antoinette to step back and shudder. Their eyes were milky white and slanted as if bent on malice.
“To me!! Warriors of Alleble!” a voice sang out. Antoinette thought it was Sir Oswyn’s. “Rally to me all who can! Hurry! Follow my voice!”
“Come!” Sir Rogan said. He again slung Aelic over his shoulder, and they ran through the clawing, scratching clouds to follow Sir Oswyn’s call. They found him and the others in a clearing of sorts, a place where the large trees around them were distant, but their long limbs still formed a kind of wooded roof.
“At last!” Sir Oswyn yelled. “Kaliam! That is everyone! Now?”
“Yes, now!” Kaliam answered. “The illgrets are regrouping!”
Sir Oswyn sheathed his sword and removed one of the long leather tubes that hung at his side. He popped the cap off the tube, grabbed the bottom of it, and slung it up with a snapping motion. A fine white powder shot out of the open end and fell slowly in a mist. Sir Oswyn ran around the outside perimeter of where the knights were huddled, waving the tube up and down until a ghostly cloud surrounded the entire team, including Sir Oswyn.
Then he took two stones out of a pouch. “You might want to close your eyes!” he said with a mischievous wink. Antoinette covered her eyes with her arms, but she did not close them. She watched Sir Oswyn strike the stones together several times. Finally, there was a spark, and . . .
WHOOOOSH!!!
Bright yellow fire leaped into the air, igniting the white powder and wreathing the twelve in a protective wall of flame. The illgrets who had been unlucky enough to be in close range burst into crackling fireballs. And sensing the heat and mistaking it for prey, the illgrets began to dive toward the flames. Wave after wave of illgrets ignited as the fire spread from wingtip to wingtip.
Flaming illgrets fell from the sky and landed in smoldering heaps, and the air filled with a horrible greasy smell. And suddenly, the unnatural darkness was lifted.
“What do you think of that?!” Sir Oswyn stood tall and grinned.
“Great, clever knight!” barked Mallik as he wiped blood off his gouged forearm. “But you could have done that sooner!”
“And harm the trees?” Sir Oswyn objected. “Do you not know that the Blackwood is the firstborn forest of the entire Realm?”
“Incredible stuff, that powder!” Sir Gabriel said. “I have never seen a nonliquid substance burn like that.”
“I made it by grinding up the stalks of a most extraordinary plant that I found growing on the shores of the Mirror Lakes.”
“What in The Realm made you think of burning it?” asked Tobias.
Oswyn winked. “I burn everything.”
“What about reviving our two victims?” Kaliam asked. “Tal and Aelic were bitten. Do you have something to wake them?”
“Of course,” Sir Oswyn replied, beginning to look through the many pockets on his jerkin. “Just a whiff of the milikynne pod ought to—”
From somewhere in the distant woods came a mournful howl. A few seconds later there was another, then another, until a chorus filled the woods.
“Wolvins,” Kaliam whispered. “Nock, how close?”
Nock’s eyes narrowed. “Not far enough. A quarter league or less.”
“Have they scented us?”
“There is your answer,” Nock said. He pointed to the tree line just beyond a pile of burning illgrets. A pair of keen yellow eyes stared out of the shadows.
“Take your best shot, archer,” said Sir Gabriel.
Nock drew back his bowstring, released, and his black shaft streaked into the woods. There was a strangled cry, and the shadow dropped to the ground. Suddenly, a ruckus of growls and barks broke out in the woods.
“The pack draws near!” Nock cried.
“Mallik, take Tal,” Kaliam commanded. “Rogan, take Aelic. Run south, follow the path as best you can! The rest follow, and I will guard the rear!”
“I will take the rearguard with you,” Lady Merewen said. “I know something of these beasts, for they are the pets of the enemy!”
“Good,” Kaliam replied. “Now, knights, fly! It is too late to avoid the Blackwood at night, but we must hope in our King’s provision that we make it through to see the dawn! Fly! The hounds of Paragory are upon us!”
