to assess how many of them there were. She stood silently, ran to her friend, and shook him awake.
“What time is it?” Laio grumbled, his voice heavy with sleep.
Nihal gestured for him to lower his voice. “Grab your sword and get behind me,” she whispered.
He roused himself immediately. “What’s going on?”
“We’re under attack. We’re surrounded,” Nihal said under her breath. She crept up to the door and listened. “As soon as the coast is clear, we run. Got it?”
Laio nodded.
The footsteps were even closer now. Two of them, just outside the house. And at least fifteen others, Nihal sensed, though she couldn’t make out their exact positions..
There are tons of them. Too many.
Just then, the door crashed in.
Laio cried out in surprise. Nihal was on her guard. The first intruder, bulky, big as a mountain, and armed with a short dagger, was hardly through the door when she stabbed him and sent him to the floor. A moment later, a horrifying, sinewy man, completely bald, came in brandishing an axe. There were others behind him. She could hear their wild grunting. Fammin.
“It’s all over, little girl,” the man with the axe growled.
Nihal jumped forward and shoved him violently. “Run!” she yelled to Laio.
The man fell, then rose again quickly, cursing. But Nihal was too fast. She sliced off his hand in one motion and left him howling in the doorway of the crumbling cottage.
Laio had already made it to Nihal’s horse and climbed into the saddle. She quickly joined him and they took off at a gallop. But keeping up such breakneck pace was no easy task. Rain had made a mush of the ground, and in the dark, it was impossible to see where they were going.
A sharp whistling cut through the sheet of rain.
“They have bows!” Nihal shouted.
Laio prodded the horse, but it only stumbled forward. An arrow caught it in the hoof, and Laio and Nihal crashed to the muddy earth.
Nihal shot right back to her feet, but Laio was still moaning on the ground. The thudding footsteps of their enemies came on more rapidly, more insistently.
“Get up!” Nihal yelled.
“I can’t. My foot …”
Nihal tugged him up forcefully and dragged him through the woods, directionless. She slipped and slid and the thick rain blinded her. There was whistling again at their backs and then a torrent of arrows. Nihal felt a sharp stinging in her left shoulder and stopped short.
Laio was gasping for air, grimacing with pain. “You’ve been hit.”
The arrow had skimmed her, lacerating her skin. Blood ran from her shoulder. Nihal began to trudge forward again, pulling Laio by an arm. “It’s nothing. Keep moving.”
The forest seemed impenetrable, the Fammin ever closer at their heels.
Nihal plowed on through the bushes, branches lashing her skin, racking her brain for a solution.
What should I do, now? What?
Her arm was in terrible pain and Laio was in no condition to fight, but to continue fleeing without direction, with their backs to their enemies, could only mean disaster. By now they could hear their enemies panting behind them.
What should I do?
“They’re over here!” came the shout of a savage voice.
A throng of Fammin emerged suddenly from the woods and crashed around them like an avalanche.
Nihal fell forward, dragging Laio with her. She turned on her back, gripped her sword and pushed herself up by the elbow.
I don’t want to die!
She slipped, groped, fell again in the mud.
I do not want to die!
With rain lashing her face, she could see the Fammin’s deformed snouts descend upon her, their long, inhuman arms curled to attack, their axes raised and ready to maul. Lightning glanced off their fangs.
Nihal closed her eyes.
I don’t want to die. Not yet!
“No!” Laio shouted between his hiccupping sobs.
Her eyelids sealed, Nihal sensed a wild flash of light. The handle of her sword turned boiling hot. She opened her eyes. A silver force field surrounded her and Laio.
The Fammin bashed their
“What time is it?” Laio grumbled, his voice heavy with sleep.
Nihal gestured for him to lower his voice. “Grab your sword and get behind me,” she whispered.
He roused himself immediately. “What’s going on?”
“We’re under attack. We’re surrounded,” Nihal said under her breath. She crept up to the door and listened. “As soon as the coast is clear, we run. Got it?”
Laio nodded.
The footsteps were even closer now. Two of them, just outside the house. And at least fifteen others, Nihal sensed, though she couldn’t make out their exact positions..
There are tons of them. Too many.
Just then, the door crashed in.
Laio cried out in surprise. Nihal was on her guard. The first intruder, bulky, big as a mountain, and armed with a short dagger, was hardly through the door when she stabbed him and sent him to the floor. A moment later, a horrifying, sinewy man, completely bald, came in brandishing an axe. There were others behind him. She could hear their wild grunting. Fammin.
“It’s all over, little girl,” the man with the axe growled.
Nihal jumped forward and shoved him violently. “Run!” she yelled to Laio.
The man fell, then rose again quickly, cursing. But Nihal was too fast. She sliced off his hand in one motion and left him howling in the doorway of the crumbling cottage.
Laio had already made it to Nihal’s horse and climbed into the saddle. She quickly joined him and they took off at a gallop. But keeping up such breakneck pace was no easy task. Rain had made a mush of the ground, and in the dark, it was impossible to see where they were going.
A sharp whistling cut through the sheet of rain.
“They have bows!” Nihal shouted.
Laio prodded the horse, but it only stumbled forward. An arrow caught it in the hoof, and Laio and Nihal crashed to the muddy earth.
Nihal shot right back to her feet, but Laio was still moaning on the ground. The thudding footsteps of their enemies came on more rapidly, more insistently.
“Get up!” Nihal yelled.
“I can’t. My foot …”
Nihal tugged him up forcefully and dragged him through the woods, directionless. She slipped and slid and the thick rain blinded her. There was whistling again at their backs and then a torrent of arrows. Nihal felt a sharp stinging in her left shoulder and stopped short.
Laio was gasping for air, grimacing with pain. “You’ve been hit.”
The arrow had skimmed her, lacerating her skin. Blood ran from her shoulder. Nihal began to trudge forward again, pulling Laio by an arm. “It’s nothing. Keep moving.”
The forest seemed impenetrable, the Fammin ever closer at their heels.
Nihal plowed on through the bushes, branches lashing her skin, racking her brain for a solution.
What should I do, now? What?
Her arm was in terrible pain and Laio was in no condition to fight, but to continue fleeing without direction, with their backs to their enemies, could only mean disaster. By now they could hear their enemies panting behind them.
What should I do?
“They’re over here!” came the shout of a savage voice.
A throng of Fammin emerged suddenly from the woods and crashed around them like an avalanche.
Nihal fell forward, dragging Laio with her. She turned on her back, gripped her sword and pushed herself up by the elbow.
I don’t want to die!
She slipped, groped, fell again in the mud.
I do not want to die!
With rain lashing her face, she could see the Fammin’s deformed snouts descend upon her, their long, inhuman arms curled to attack, their axes raised and ready to maul. Lightning glanced off their fangs.
Nihal closed her eyes.
I don’t want to die. Not yet!
“No!” Laio shouted between his hiccupping sobs.
Her eyelids sealed, Nihal sensed a wild flash of light. The handle of her sword turned boiling hot. She opened her eyes. A silver force field surrounded her and Laio.
The Fammin bashed their
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