Rucifel slashed back and forth with his remaining blade, deftly keeping Kaliam and Lady Merewen from using their advantage. Kaliam hammered away with his broadsword, but always Rucifel ducked out of reach. And still more maddening was the way that Rucifel maneuvered his attackers into each other’s way. Several times Lady Merewen thought she had an opening in Rucifel’s defenses, only to stay her strike at the last moment when he lured Kaliam right into her path.
Their battle ranged all over the road, in and out of the trees, and among the other combatants of both sides, but still Rucifel eluded the two warriors from Alleble.
Then, Lady Merewen thrust her sword at his midsection. He parried it away, but rather than retreating immediately as he had been doing, he stepped forward and struck out at Lady Merewen with a series of quick stabs. It was enough time for Kaliam to circle round so that Rucifel stood between him and Lady Merewen. They pressed in on Rucifel like a vise. Kaliam swept his broadsword at the enemy’s head. Lady Merewen raked her blade at his legs. Rucifel could not evade both strikes. He ducked Kaliam’s long blade and tried to dive. But Lady Merewen’s sword caught him on the back of his leg where there was no armor. Rucifel did not yell, but he rolled to a crouch, stood, and hopped back a pace favoring his left leg.
Sensing victory over their foe, Kaliam and Lady Merewen came on. They drove him backward. Rucifel seemed to give up any notion of offense and used his blade to block and defend. After every swipe, he turned and ran a few paces, always favoring his left leg.
“You run away!” Kaliam exclaimed as he pursued. “You are tiring, Rucifel!”
“No,” Rucifel replied, and he stopped and glared at his attackers with such a strange expression that they pulled up short. It seemed to Kaliam and Lady Merewen that Rucifel had suddenly gone mad, for he was beaten and yet he began to laugh. “Not tiring,” he said and grinned smugly. “Waiting. . . .”
At that moment, a howl rose up as if a sudden storm had come upon the forest of Yewland. But no wind of The Realm any living Glimpse had ever heard made such a hideous sound. Kaliam and Lady Merewen grimaced and covered their ears. Finally, the haunting noise ceased. All noise ceased. No arrows whistled. No blades clashed upon shields. The combatants all around had lowered their swords. It was utterly still and silent . . . until something advanced toward them on the road behind Rucifel.
Kaliam reflexively stepped backward. A creeping mist? he wondered, but it was inky black and reflected none of the moon’s light. Whatever it was, it began to quicken, devouring trees and road as it came. Suddenly, it washed over Rucifel, and he was gone.
Kaliam and Lady Merewen turned to flee, but it was too late.
Kearn came at Aelic, dealing out blow after blow. Back and forth they dueled. Aelic wanted to avoid killing Kearn if he could, but the way his enemy fought, it seemed there would be no other way.
Kearn lunged. Aelic brought Fury up hard, but their blades locked together. Pressing in toward each other, Aelic and Kearn came eye to eye.
“You cannot win,” Kearn said, his eyes flashing red. “And when you are dead, I will take Lady Antoinette behind the Gate of Despair. If she will not become one of us, I will feed her to my master’s new pet!”
“Don’t listen to him, Aelic!” Antoinette yelled from the locked wagon.
Just then their blades slid apart, but Kearn’s sword came down on Aelic’s forearm. The leather vambrace split, and the sword left a deep gash. “Arghhh!” Aelic yelled. In a rage, Aelic slashed Fury against Kearn’s blade and pinned it against the wagon. Then, he reached around and punched Kearn twice in the side where there was no armor.
“Curse you, whelp!” Kearn coughed and spat. He wrenched his blade away from the wagon, and Aelic leaped back. “Think your skill with that blade is enough to contend with, Kearn?”
Tired, Kearn sprang from the wagon, intending to drive his blade at Aelic’s chest for a kill. But his angle was too low coming in. Aelic swept the wide blade away, and hacked at it again and again, growing stronger with rage as Kearn grew weaker. Finally, Kearn’s guard became sloppy and Aelic’s sword drifted into position. Aelic drew Fury back so that the pommel rested near his chest. He prepared to throw a moulinet to kill.
But before he could move, a frightening cry rose above the clamor of battle. At first it sounded as if it was coming out of the Blackwood. It rose in pitch to a great mournful howl, and Aelic felt his skull would split from the sound. Kearn too was affected, but not as much. He swayed for a moment but seized the opportunity and ran to the huge black horse that was hitched to the wagon. He leaped upon it and spurred it forward. Aelic whirled around and saw the wagon moving. He tried to pursue, but the sound had a crippling effect on him. He dropped his sword, fell to his knees, and clutched his ears.
When the sound finally ended, Aelic grabbed Fury and sprinted up the road after the wagon. But it was already rounding a corner far ahead. Aelic watched helplessly as Kearn’s wagon took Antoinette away.
Suddenly, another howl rang out—this time Aelic was sure it was from the Blackwood side of the forest. Other howls answered—Aelic counted: five, six, seven! And then the ground began to tremble.
Then something dark was upon him. Aelic swung Fury recklessly like a child fighting off a nightmare. But the darkness had a texture like a spider’s web, and it clung to his skin, his hair, and his armor. Aelic calmed himself and realized that he was not bound—he could move through it.
Aelic ran in the direction he thought Kearn had gone. Someone was up ahead. Kearn? he wondered. He could just tell it was a warrior with long hair, a long mustache, and beard. The mist seemed to swirl around him. Aelic slowed a little and blinked. No, it could not be Kearn. The warrior was enormous—far taller even than Kaliam. He had no weapon, but he marched with deadly purpose. The warrior’s eyes were strangely fixed. Aelic stopped and stared as a mist washed past the warrior, clouding the warrior from sight. The mist vanished, and there in the warrior’s place stood a wolvin three times the creature’s normal size. The hair on its back bristled. Its jaws fell open, and it growled menacingly. Aelic realized with dismay that before him stood one of the Seven Sleepers.
Aelic clutched Fury in front with both hands, and though he had little hope of outrunning the giant beast, he took a slow step backward. The wolvin’s yellow eyes narrowed and it charged. Aelic dove out of its path but was slowed by the grasping mist. He avoided the wolvin’s jaws, but it barreled into him with its shoulder and knocked Aelic aside like a rag doll. Heart pounding and breathless, Aelic leaped to his feet. The wolvin came again, but when Aelic tried to get out of the way, the creature reached out with its foreleg and slashed Aelic’s right shoulder. Its claws tore the armor off and gouged deep into Aelic’s arm. But even as it did so, Aelic slammed Fury down upon the creature’s back. The wolvin howled in pain and began to scratch at its back as if something were still stuck there.
Blood streaming from his wounded arm, Aelic sprinted into the shrouded trees. He had no idea which direction to go. Aelic stumbled up a long hill and heard muffled snaps and cracks behind him. He pushed himself harder, straining against the incline. He toppled over the crest of the hill, and rolled down the other side. Jabbed and buffeted as he rolled, he clutched Fury in his left hand with all his might. When at last he stopped rolling, Aelic gasped for breath.
Using Fury as a crutch, he pulled himself to his feet. But just as he stood, the wolvin crashed into him. Aelic flew backward, the creature on top of him. They hit the ground with a crunch and Aelic’s legs went numb. The wolvin’s teeth came at his neck, but Aelic wedged Fury up into its jaws. It bit down on the blade, yelped in surprised agony, but did not relent. It clamped down on Fury even harder and tore it from Aelic’s hands.
The wolvin tossed the blade aside, and snarled. A mixture of saliva and blood trickled over its jaw onto Aelic’s neck. “King Eliam!” Aelic whispered urgently. “Help me.”
Just as the wolvin went for Aelic’s throat, he heard a high-pitched roar. A shape appeared and smashed into the creature with such force that it was thrown free from Aelic. The wolvin howled in pain. Aelic turned and saw a dragon on top of the wolvin, tearing at it with taloned feet. “Gabby!!” Aelic screamed.
The two creatures grappled and bit, clawed and scratched. Gabby had only one good wing, but she held her own against the Sleeper. Aelic struggled to his knees and began to crawl toward his sword. Again using Fury for leverage, he pulled himself to his feet. Determined to help Gabby, he began to limp back toward the fight.
But the ground went out from under him, and Aelic was falling, falling, falling.
