Chapter 277: The Beast within the Walls

“Creak.”

Linus Pitt slowly pushed open the heavy iron door. In an instant, a dense fragrance of grass and wood slipped through the gap, mixed with the rank, sour stink of animals and livestock.

Before them lay a warehouse a hundred feet square, far larger than it had seemed from outside. Thick green growth wrapped the space on all sides, like a pocket-sized primeval jungle.

The ground was a deep layer of humus made from dead branches and fallen leaves. In it grew healthy sawtooth ferns, raspberries heavy with red fruit, lush green artichokes, elephant grass as tall as a man, and a great many medicinal plants. The Witchers alone could identify sweet clover, crow’s eye potato, mouse-tail orchid, stramonium, and many rarer herbs.

The thriving plants were reflected in ponds scattered through the corners. Algae and duckweed had dyed the water yellow-green, and water lilies swayed there, pink and delicate.

Something under the water seemed to notice the uninvited guests. It swam back and forth, sending out rings of unnerving ripples.

And that was only the lowest layer of the ecosystem.

Taller dawn redwoods stretched their branches, spreading pale-green canopies that filled the upper half of the space. They sheltered the lower circle of life from wind and rain, while letting through just the right amount of light.

The warehouse was not entirely sealed. Half the ceiling had been stripped away. Brilliant sunlight poured in, filtered through crystal and iron-sand mesh, nourishing the living things within.

The thick groves were not monotonous. Twisting vines hung their long, supple bodies from the treetops, dotted here and there with tender green mistletoe. Sparrows and woodpeckers chattered among the branches, fluttering from one limb to another.

All at once, beneath the trees, the elephant grass rustled and cracked with movement.

“Quiet...” Linus Pitt warned in a low, urgent voice, spreading his arms, arching his back, bending his knees.

The group’s hearts tightened. They copied his posture and lowered their centers of gravity as much as they could.

Then a strange, misshapen beast pushed out from the elephant grass and entered their sight.

The instant the Witchers saw it clearly, instinct tightened every muscle in their bodies. Hands closed around sword hilts. Orin was even ready to cast a Sign.

What an ugly damned species.

Its body was like a plucked ostrich enlarged several times over. Standing upright, it was about one and a half men tall. Its eyes were as small as black grains of rice, while its oval maw split all the way down toward its neck, exposing two uneven rows of razor-sharp teeth. Thick, yellowish, stinking saliva dripped from the corners of its mouth, mixed with bits of flesh.