Journey into the Void by Margaret Weis Page A

and hollerings and screams erupting all around. The Grandmother pulled violently on his leather breeches. She jabbed a pointing finger. Jessan followed it and saw Bashae, crouched, trembling, beneath the table, his eyes level with those of the fallen Vrykyl.
    Bashae was trapped, fenced in by chairs and table legs. A span of only a couple of feet separated him and the Vrykyl. Jedash covered that distance in the space of a heartbeat.
    Frantic as a cornered animal, Bashae tried desperately to escape. He might have managed it, for pecwae are lithe and nimble, their bones supple as willow branches. Dragging the knapsack with him, Bashae slithered backward, scrambling to fit his body between the rungs of a chair leg.
    The Vrykyl seized hold of the knapsack’s leather straps.
    For many months, Bashae had been the guardian of the Sovereign Stone. He might not have known that when he started out, but he knew it now. The knapsack was his pride, his responsibility. The knapsack had taken him on a wondrous journey, taken him places and shown him sights that few pecwae had ever seen. He’d come to feel beholden to the knapsack and possessive of it. Bashae was horribly afraid of this ghastly creature of death and despair. He wanted only to get away from it, as fast as possible. But he was going to take the knapsack with him.
    As the Vrykyl tugged on the knapsack. Bashae gave an angry and instinctive tug back and managed to jerk the leather strap out of the Vrykyl’s clutching grip. Bashae wriggled backward and was soon lost amid a tangle of table legs, human legs, and human feet. The Vrykyl could not follow.
    Furious, he clambered to his feet. Lifting up the table, the Vrykylhurled it into the crowd. He found Bashae, crawling beneath another table. The Vrykyl made a lunge for the knapsack, which was tangled up with the pecwae, and caught hold of both of them. The Vrykyl gave a violent tug on the knapsack that nearly tore off Bashae’s arm.
    The leather strap broke loose. Bashae felt it give. Turning, he seized hold of the knapsack, kicked wildly at the Vrykyl.
    Jessan tried frantically to reach Bashae, but the Vrykyl was between him and his friend, and chairs, tables and panic-stricken patrons were between Jessan and the Vrykyl. Jessan hurled aside chairs, knocked down anyone who got into his way. He had a fleeing glimpse of staring eyes and wide-open mouths, but they had no meaning, were as leaves blown away on the winter wind of fear for his friend. Jessan cried out a challenge, hoping desperately that the creature would forget about the pecwae and turn to face this new foe.
    The Vrykyl had only one thought, and that was to retrieve the knapsack. He paid no more attention to Jessan than to a mewling kitten. The Vrykyl dug his taloned nails deep into Bashae’s body. Blood flowed down Bashae’s rib cage. He cried out in pain, writhed in anguish. The Vrykyl grabbed hold of the knapsack and hurled the screaming pecwae to the floor.
    Like Jessan, the Grandmother had also been trying to reach Bashae. Blocked by the crowd, she dropped to the floor and crawled toward him. When the Vrykyl hurled Bashae to the floor, the Grandmother flung her body protectively over his and glared up defiantly at the Vrykyl.
    The Vrykyl drew his sword, prepared to slay both of them and take his prize. He raised the weapon. The Grandmother snatched up one of the agate eyes and threw it into the Vrykyl’s helmed face.
    The agate eye burst with a flash of pure white. The magical light was horrible. Flaring inside Jedash’s head, the light illuminated the Void, leaving the Vrykyl naked and exposed to the gods. He could feel his undead spirit start to shrivel in their blessed gaze.
    Coming up behind the stunned Vrykyl, Jessan plunged the Blood-knife into the Vrykyl’s back.
    The slender, fragile-looking knife sliced through the Void armor, penetrated the Vrykyl’s corrupt and rotting flesh. Born of the Void, the knife began to