head. “No idea,” he said.
“Thou know’st,” it insisted. “Boy heir.”
“I’m not,” Wulf replied, his voice shaking only a little. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”
Quickly, faster than a man ought to be able to move, the black thing jumped toward Wulf. It reached for him with its free hand.
He stared at the gaping beak with its tearing, hooked point.
“Thou know’st.”
Wulf drew his hands back and got ready.
I’m going down swinging.
Somehow, Rainer was quicker than the dark thing. He charged toward the thing and met it head on. But Rainer had too much momentum. The dark thing stepped to the side, and Rainer stumbled past it—
There was nothing between the dark thing and Wulf now.
The beak. And now arms reached out, black arms, fingers not fully formed but sharpening to points, like spears. Talons.
Wulf faked to his left, then threw a punch with his right as hard as he could.
Nothing but air. The black thing was too quick. It had ducked.
Claw hands grabbed Wulf by the neck. The tips of claw fingers dug into his skin.
Then the thing lifted him up, completely off his feet, and held him dangling by his neck. It turned the edge of its sword against Wulf’s throat. Wulf grabbed at the thing’s hands and shook himself, trying to get free, but it was no use. The thing’s grip tightened.
“Thou know’st. Tell me.” The thing was in Wulf’s face. Its beak was a finger length from his eyes.
The talons squeezed his neck harder. The blade cut deeper.
Rainer appeared again over the dark thing’s shoulder. He had found something to grab hold of. The thing’s cloak. It was black, but it seemed real enough. Rainer clung to the fabric and pulled himself up onto the thing’s back and, with a yell of determination, drew his dagger across the black thing’s throat.
The sword moved away from Wulf’s throat. Wulf watched as a gash opened up in the thing’s neck from the dagger stroke. It oozed black fluid, too thick and syrupy to be blood. Then the gash closed up almost as fast as it had been formed.
Wulf twisted and kicked at the thing’s chest. The thing’s hold on him weakened for a moment and Wulf struggled free. He stumbled back, in too much shock to do anything but watch.
Rainer stabbed his dagger into the thing’s right arm. The arm went limp, and the thing dropped its falcata. But this wound sealed again, and the black thing reached for Rainer with taloned hands. Rainer scrambled around on its back, using the thing’s own head to dodge.
Wulf lowered his shoulder and charged.
Duck down low. Slam into the midriff.
He felt the boneless, syrup-like softness of it. But his charge caused the thing to stumble back.
This was what Rainer needed. Rainer dropped his dagger, which obviously wasn’t working. He grabbed a handful of bolts from the crossbow quiver hanging from the thing’s belt. With one in his right hand, he stabbed again, this time into the side of the thing’s head.
The crossbow bolt slid in.
If the dark thing had a brain, the bolt had sliced a wide gash deep into it. Rainer took another bolt and stabbed again. He left that bolt in as well and stabbed with the third.
There were three black arrows pushed all the way through the thing’s skull. Black ooze flowed. Yet still it would not die.
With a big jerk of its body, the dark thing went completely rigid. This sudden movement caught Rainer off guard, and he was thrown from the thing’s back. He landed in the dirt near the green rock’s edge. Wulf straightened up from his charge.
He was face-to-face with the dark thing once again.
There were three crossbow bolts sticking out of its head, one with its tip coming out of the thing’s right eye.
The thing opened its mouth again, and a black tongue shot out.
It hissed, the black tongue twitching like a snake.
The hiss did not stop, and the horrible smell of the thing’s expelled breath was all around him.
Stinging eyes. Burning skin. Wulf put a hand over his face
“Thou know’st,” it insisted. “Boy heir.”
“I’m not,” Wulf replied, his voice shaking only a little. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”
Quickly, faster than a man ought to be able to move, the black thing jumped toward Wulf. It reached for him with its free hand.
He stared at the gaping beak with its tearing, hooked point.
“Thou know’st.”
Wulf drew his hands back and got ready.
I’m going down swinging.
Somehow, Rainer was quicker than the dark thing. He charged toward the thing and met it head on. But Rainer had too much momentum. The dark thing stepped to the side, and Rainer stumbled past it—
There was nothing between the dark thing and Wulf now.
The beak. And now arms reached out, black arms, fingers not fully formed but sharpening to points, like spears. Talons.
Wulf faked to his left, then threw a punch with his right as hard as he could.
Nothing but air. The black thing was too quick. It had ducked.
Claw hands grabbed Wulf by the neck. The tips of claw fingers dug into his skin.
Then the thing lifted him up, completely off his feet, and held him dangling by his neck. It turned the edge of its sword against Wulf’s throat. Wulf grabbed at the thing’s hands and shook himself, trying to get free, but it was no use. The thing’s grip tightened.
“Thou know’st. Tell me.” The thing was in Wulf’s face. Its beak was a finger length from his eyes.
The talons squeezed his neck harder. The blade cut deeper.
Rainer appeared again over the dark thing’s shoulder. He had found something to grab hold of. The thing’s cloak. It was black, but it seemed real enough. Rainer clung to the fabric and pulled himself up onto the thing’s back and, with a yell of determination, drew his dagger across the black thing’s throat.
The sword moved away from Wulf’s throat. Wulf watched as a gash opened up in the thing’s neck from the dagger stroke. It oozed black fluid, too thick and syrupy to be blood. Then the gash closed up almost as fast as it had been formed.
Wulf twisted and kicked at the thing’s chest. The thing’s hold on him weakened for a moment and Wulf struggled free. He stumbled back, in too much shock to do anything but watch.
Rainer stabbed his dagger into the thing’s right arm. The arm went limp, and the thing dropped its falcata. But this wound sealed again, and the black thing reached for Rainer with taloned hands. Rainer scrambled around on its back, using the thing’s own head to dodge.
Wulf lowered his shoulder and charged.
Duck down low. Slam into the midriff.
He felt the boneless, syrup-like softness of it. But his charge caused the thing to stumble back.
This was what Rainer needed. Rainer dropped his dagger, which obviously wasn’t working. He grabbed a handful of bolts from the crossbow quiver hanging from the thing’s belt. With one in his right hand, he stabbed again, this time into the side of the thing’s head.
The crossbow bolt slid in.
If the dark thing had a brain, the bolt had sliced a wide gash deep into it. Rainer took another bolt and stabbed again. He left that bolt in as well and stabbed with the third.
There were three black arrows pushed all the way through the thing’s skull. Black ooze flowed. Yet still it would not die.
With a big jerk of its body, the dark thing went completely rigid. This sudden movement caught Rainer off guard, and he was thrown from the thing’s back. He landed in the dirt near the green rock’s edge. Wulf straightened up from his charge.
He was face-to-face with the dark thing once again.
There were three crossbow bolts sticking out of its head, one with its tip coming out of the thing’s right eye.
The thing opened its mouth again, and a black tongue shot out.
It hissed, the black tongue twitching like a snake.
The hiss did not stop, and the horrible smell of the thing’s expelled breath was all around him.
Stinging eyes. Burning skin. Wulf put a hand over his face
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