Chapter 8

Osric was exhausted. An hour had passed since they’d fled the cliffside, the hounds picking them up almost as soon as they started their run south. Without any tricks left, all they could do was run, barely staying ahead of the braying of the dogs and the flickering orange glow of torchlight in the woods behind them.

Talia looked as tired as he felt, and he knew they couldn’t keep this up much longer. Even Cinder looked tired.

“Talia,” Osric panted, “we need ... to find ... somewhere to hide. Can’t ... run ... forever.”

Talia nodded, too winded to speak. Her face was flushed and she clutched a stitch in her side.

The problem was that there was nowhere to run to. Nowhere to hide. Ahead, the tree line thinned and broke, and Osric hoped ... prayed, that they were coming to some kind of road or way to civilization, and maybe even help.

It wasn’t to be. As they broke through the trees, they found themselves in a large clearing. They couldn’t stop, the sounds still coming from behind him. They sprinted across the open ground and Osric thought they might make it across and back into the trees before their pursuers came through the forest behind them.

It wasn’t until they were halfway across that he realized this was a trap. They hadn’t been chased. They’d been herded.

A group of figures emerged from the shadows of the trees ahead of them. Men in dark cloaks, swords in their hands, stood between the trio and the forest. Osric skidded to a halt, Talia nearly colliding with him. He spun around, only to see more men stepping out from the woods behind them, cutting off their escape, angry hounds following behind them.

“Looks like the hunt is over, boy,” one of the men said.

Osric gripped his sword hilt, mind racing. There were too many to fight. Talia knew it too, her eyes wide with fear.

“Look, you can have this cursed ring!” Osric shouted, holding up his hand, the ring flat in his palm. “I don’t want it anymore. Just let us go!”

The man directly ahead of him, his face obscured by a deep hood, let out a harsh laugh.

“It’s far too late for that, boy. You’re coming with us.”

He knew they were going to say that. Osric glanced at Talia, saw the fear on her face, and then turned back to the leader. If this was the end of his flight, he wanted to at least save her.

“What about my friend? If I go with you, will you let her go? She has nothing to do with this.”

“No. She’s seen too much. We know she’s been helping you.” He jerked his chin at one of his men. “She and the beast go in the ground.”

The men started closing in, coming toward them from all sides. Talia pressed up closer to him. Osric slowly reached for his sword, fingers curling around the hilt.

Leaning in close to Talia, he whispered, “When I say run, go. Get to the trees.”

She shook her head vehemently. “Osric, no. There are too many. You can’t...”

“I’ll hold them off as long as I can. You have to get away. Find Elder Miriam; tell her what happened.”

Tears streamed down Talia’s face but she nodded. Cinder pressed against Osric’s leg, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he eyed the advancing men. Osric drew his blade, shifting into the closest thing to a fighting stance he could manage.

“This should be fun,” one of the men said, laughing.

Just as the men closed in, a sudden burst of light filled the clearing. A swarm of ethereal, firefly-like creatures emerged from the trees, their soft chime-like voices filling the air. Each one glowed with a gentle, soothing light. The men stumbled back, shielding their eyes from the sudden brightness.

As Osric squinted to see what was happening, several wolves that looked as if they were made from wood flowed into view, their eyes glowing an eerie green color. They let out haunting howls that seemed to make the very trees tremble. Humanoid figures made entirely of living wood and foliage came running out of the forest at their call. They were followed by a dozen creatures that resembled stags, but with human-like proportions, standing on two legs, that bounded into the clearing along with a group of strange, almost shadows.

For a moment, terror flooded into Osric. These were creatures he’d never even imagined in his deepest dreams or darkest nightmares, which he assumed had come to help these men kill his friends and capture him.

Or at least, that was the first thought Osric had, seeing the strange and frightening creatures. Until the ethereal fireflies swarmed some of the men, unleashing another blinding flash of light. Several of the men cried out, their hands flying to their eyes as they stumbled about, temporarily blinded. The wooden wolves were right behind the light creatures, their thorny teeth and claws tearing into the disoriented men as they stumbled about, defenseless. Screams of pain filled the air as the wolves brought down four of the pursuers, mawing them and ripping them apart.

The tree-like humanoids raised their arms, and the grass and vines of the clearing surged to life, growing and ensnaring the feet of the men. They struggled against the sudden growth, but the plants held fast, rooting them in place.

Then came the stag-people, covering the distance in a few powerful leaps. They lowered their heads, their antlers slashing at the immobilized men. Three more pursuers fell, their blood staining the grass.

Seizing the opportunity, Osric charged forward, his sword flashing in the moonlight. He brought the blade down on one of the few remaining men not hindered by the strange creatures’ attacks. The man fell, clutching at his chest.

Talia, not to be outdone, thrust her hands forward, her fingers splayed. Following the path her hands traced, three glowing bolts of arcane energy shot forth, striking another pursuer in the chest. He crumpled to the ground, wisps of smoke rising from his still form.

Cinder leaped at the nearest man, his powerful jaws clamping down on the pursuer’s arm. With a vicious twist of his head, Cinder brought the man down, his scream cutting off abruptly as Cinder released his arm and went for his throat.

Only a handful of the men remained standing, and those few were in no condition to fight back effectively. Blinded, entangled, or confused, their attacks were wild and uncoordinated. Osric easily dodged a clumsy sword thrust, while a stag-creature contemptuously batted aside another with its antlers.

The wooden wolves and stag-folk pressed their advantage, and two more men fell beneath their onslaught. Finally, the tree-like people found new targets, attacking again, their powerful fists slamming into the remaining pursuers with the force of falling trees. Bones cracked and bodies crumpled under the assault.

In a matter of moments, only one pursuer remained, stumbling in confusion as a group of the amorphous shadows swarmed around him. He tried to flee, desperate to escape the fate of his compatriots, but there was no escape. The shadow creatures surged forward, enveloping the last man completely. His scream was muffled and cut off as the mass of shadows carried him off, disappearing into the dark embrace of the forest.

As quickly as it had begun, the battle was over. The clearing was still, save for the gentle chiming of the ethereal fireflies and the soft rustle of leaves in the wind. Osric backed up, putting his body between the creatures and Talia.

One of the stag-folk stepped forward, his movements graceful and fluid. He had a lean, muscular torso and powerful deer-like legs covered in soft brown fur. Small antlers protruded from his forehead above large, expressive amber eyes. He held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“Peace, travelers. You have nothing to fear from us,” the stag-man said, his voice rich and melodic.

Osric didn’t lower his sword. “Who ... what are you? Why did you help us?”

The stag-man smiled. “I am Valen of the Stag-folk. When we sensed the disturbance, we came to investigate. It seems we arrived just in time.”

Talia peered around Osric’s shoulder.

“I’ve read about creat ... about you. Stag-folk, briarwolves, shimmerlings ... But I thought you were just myths and legends.”

“As you can see, we are quite real. We’ve been expecting you.”

“Us? Why?”

“The sage of the forest told us you were coming, sent us to the border to wait for you.”

“The border? The border of what?”

“Avendell, of course,” Valen said, smiling.

Osric stared at the deer-man in disbelief.

“Avendell? That’s impossible. No one goes there. The forest is haunted.”

Valen chuckled, a warm and soothing sound. “That’s not entirely true. It is not haunted, only protected. Some do come through our borders, if the Veilguard allows it.”

Talia stepped out from behind Osric, her curiosity overcoming her fear.

“The Veilguard?”

“That is not for me to tell you. Suffice it to say, they protect Avendell and decide who may enter.”

Talia wasn’t done, however.

“Why are you taking us to Avendell? I thought spirits could only exist in the mystic forest; how can you be here? Who told you to find us? Who is this sage?” she said in rapid succession, the words tumbling on top of each other.

Valen’s musical laughter filled the clearing, his amber eyes sparkling with amusement.

“So many questions, little one. Your curiosity is admirable, but your answers must wait,” Valen said, and then cocked his head, staring at her as if he saw her for the first time. “Tell me, did you learn the magics you used here at the conclave?”

Talia hesitated, glancing at Osric before shaking her head.

“No, I didn’t. I learned them from ... from someone else. Someone who left the conclave before I met her.”

Osric thought he saw a flicker of relief cross Valen’s face, but it was gone so quickly he couldn’t be sure. The stag-man nodded, as if this information confirmed something for him.