head startled Kalen enough he lost his balance. Honey shied, keeping beneath him so he didn’t fall. She snorted at him in rebuke.
“Kalen? What’s wrong?” Tala asked in alarm.
“They’re coming,” the First whispered using Kalen’s voice.
Chapter Four
A wave of black, viscous fluid crashed through the remnants of the Crimson Eye’s camp. Breton wheeled Perin, charging the gelding after the rest of the mercenary company’s rear guard. Someone screamed behind him. The shrill sound cut off with a chilling gurgle. He twisted around in the saddle to watch the black waters carve through the ground a horse’s length behind him. Putrid gray smoke coiled up and choked him. Coughing, he covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve.
Perin reared, hopping forward, front hooves lashing out. Shifting his weight, Breton snatched at his gelding’s mane and clamped his legs around his horse’s barrel to remain seated.
Breton couldn’t tear his gaze from the devastation behind them. The mercenary who had been beside him moments before hadn’t made it up the slope before the flood hit. The black waters crested over the Mithrian, stripping away his flesh until only bone remained, which sank beneath the surface. The man’s horse likewise disappeared.
“Breton!” Maiten’s cry rang out over the thunderous rumble of the water’s passage. The red-haired Guardian reined in his horse next to Perin. “Hellfires! What in the deeps is that?”
“Crysallis called it a swarm,” Breton replied, shuddering. The cloyingly sweet stench of rot hung in the air. Gagging, he urged Perin farther from the water’s edge. The odor matched what he remembered in the Rift from the skreed—and from the cavern where they had found Kalen’s discarded pack.
Worry gnawed at him. Maiten was alone. A glance at the red-headed Rifter’s hip didn’t reassure him; Gorishitorik’s blue pommel stone winked at him. Why wasn’t the sword with Kalen?
“A swarm of what ?” Maiten hissed.
Breton forced his attention to the more immediate problem. The surviving mercenaries from the rear guard clustered around them. He tensed, watching the churning waters in case the swarm shifted direction. The ground bubbled and smoked as the flood cut deeper into the forest floor. Keeping his mouth and nose covered with his sleeve, he urged Perin several more lengths away from the carnage.
“Breton?” Maiten asked.
“Skreed,” he finally replied, shuddering at the memory of the men and women who hadn’t been fast enough to evade the swarm’s path. “Crysallis said they’re skreed. How many didn’t make it?”
One of the mercenaries brought his horse alongside Perin. While Breton didn’t recognize the man, the mercenary wore an officer’s red ribbon on his sleeve. “At least twenty from the first head count. There’s a chance that some are trapped on the other side.”
Breton looked over the waters, which completely covered their camp site. “I doubt it.”
“I do as well.” The mercenary sighed. “Silvereye isn’t going to be pleased. I’ll report.” With a bellowed command, the officer rounded up the straggling mercenaries and got most of them headed after the column. A few lingered, gaping at the destruction.
“We’re very, very lucky we had warning,” Maiten said, leaning over to grab hold of Breton’s arm. “Let’s get out of here before the swarm decides to change directions.”
Shuddering at the thought, Breton nodded and turned Perin.
Maiten waited for him when he hesitated. “What’s wrong?”
Breton frowned and pointed at Gorishitorik. “Where’s Kalen, and why do you have his sword?”
Maiten flinched. “He’s with Honey.”
“And where exactly is Honey?”
“Honey is smart and so is he,” Maiten said in a rush, staring at the flood while his face paled several shades.
Breton felt the stares of the lingering mercenaries. Turning to them, he barked in Mithrian, “March!” While the stragglers
“Kalen? What’s wrong?” Tala asked in alarm.
“They’re coming,” the First whispered using Kalen’s voice.
Chapter Four
A wave of black, viscous fluid crashed through the remnants of the Crimson Eye’s camp. Breton wheeled Perin, charging the gelding after the rest of the mercenary company’s rear guard. Someone screamed behind him. The shrill sound cut off with a chilling gurgle. He twisted around in the saddle to watch the black waters carve through the ground a horse’s length behind him. Putrid gray smoke coiled up and choked him. Coughing, he covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve.
Perin reared, hopping forward, front hooves lashing out. Shifting his weight, Breton snatched at his gelding’s mane and clamped his legs around his horse’s barrel to remain seated.
Breton couldn’t tear his gaze from the devastation behind them. The mercenary who had been beside him moments before hadn’t made it up the slope before the flood hit. The black waters crested over the Mithrian, stripping away his flesh until only bone remained, which sank beneath the surface. The man’s horse likewise disappeared.
“Breton!” Maiten’s cry rang out over the thunderous rumble of the water’s passage. The red-haired Guardian reined in his horse next to Perin. “Hellfires! What in the deeps is that?”
“Crysallis called it a swarm,” Breton replied, shuddering. The cloyingly sweet stench of rot hung in the air. Gagging, he urged Perin farther from the water’s edge. The odor matched what he remembered in the Rift from the skreed—and from the cavern where they had found Kalen’s discarded pack.
Worry gnawed at him. Maiten was alone. A glance at the red-headed Rifter’s hip didn’t reassure him; Gorishitorik’s blue pommel stone winked at him. Why wasn’t the sword with Kalen?
“A swarm of what ?” Maiten hissed.
Breton forced his attention to the more immediate problem. The surviving mercenaries from the rear guard clustered around them. He tensed, watching the churning waters in case the swarm shifted direction. The ground bubbled and smoked as the flood cut deeper into the forest floor. Keeping his mouth and nose covered with his sleeve, he urged Perin several more lengths away from the carnage.
“Breton?” Maiten asked.
“Skreed,” he finally replied, shuddering at the memory of the men and women who hadn’t been fast enough to evade the swarm’s path. “Crysallis said they’re skreed. How many didn’t make it?”
One of the mercenaries brought his horse alongside Perin. While Breton didn’t recognize the man, the mercenary wore an officer’s red ribbon on his sleeve. “At least twenty from the first head count. There’s a chance that some are trapped on the other side.”
Breton looked over the waters, which completely covered their camp site. “I doubt it.”
“I do as well.” The mercenary sighed. “Silvereye isn’t going to be pleased. I’ll report.” With a bellowed command, the officer rounded up the straggling mercenaries and got most of them headed after the column. A few lingered, gaping at the destruction.
“We’re very, very lucky we had warning,” Maiten said, leaning over to grab hold of Breton’s arm. “Let’s get out of here before the swarm decides to change directions.”
Shuddering at the thought, Breton nodded and turned Perin.
Maiten waited for him when he hesitated. “What’s wrong?”
Breton frowned and pointed at Gorishitorik. “Where’s Kalen, and why do you have his sword?”
Maiten flinched. “He’s with Honey.”
“And where exactly is Honey?”
“Honey is smart and so is he,” Maiten said in a rush, staring at the flood while his face paled several shades.
Breton felt the stares of the lingering mercenaries. Turning to them, he barked in Mithrian, “March!” While the stragglers
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