Beastgrave by C L Werner

Author:C L Werner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-12T09:23:47+00:00

Chapter Nine

The tracks left by Ghroth and his warriors led deeper into the mountain. The sylvaneth adjusted to the lack of daylight, the fey glow of their eyes shifting to draw out the detail of their surroundings. The images were cold and grey, but distinct enough to guide Kyra and the others to the opening at the back of the cave, past the mound of skulls.

Kyra felt an ever-increasing unease as they proceeded into the tunnel. Something was all around them, hostile and aware. Something that defied the fey illumination that let the sylvaneth find their way in the darkness. She saw the walls and the ceiling, the floor under their feet, but there was something more that she was missing. With each step she was more convinced that there was a terrible danger lurking close by.

‘Stop.’ Kyra sent the impulse coursing into the essence of each of her companions. The dryads halted, frozen in place by her command. She felt their bewilderment at her dramatic conquest of their autonomy. ‘There is a threat here,’ she explained. ‘I can feel it close to us.’

Nyiss turned her head from side to side, studying the tunnel ahead of them from every angle. ‘I do not see anything.’

‘Nor do I,’ Eshia apologised. She waved her arm at the ceiling and turned towards the wall. Yanir caught the young dryad and moved her back.

‘Wait until Kyra is satisfied before doing anything,’ Yanir told Eshia. ‘If she feels there is a reason to be wary, we should listen.’

Kyra pressed forward and followed Nyiss’ example, studying the tunnel. It ran straight as far as she could see, with no bends or obstructions where the twist-flesh might be lying in wait for them. No, it was a different sort of trap they needed to watch for.

‘I can see nothing,’ Kyra said to Nyiss. ‘But there is something here. I will conjure a light and we will see if it changes our perspective.’

Nyiss closed her long fingers on the branchwraith’s arm. ‘If you make a light, the Rootcutter might see it.’

The possibility had not been ignored by Kyra, but she had not forgotten the corrupt swine-headed creature that was with the twist-flesh. ‘If they do not see us they will smell us,’ Kyra reminded the dryad. It was easy for the sylvaneth to forget the hazards of a sense that was so keen in other creatures. ‘Should the Rootcutter be near enough to see the light, his warriors have already caught our scent.’

Kyra saw that she had made her point. She took a few more steps ahead of the dryads and raised her hand over her head. She let her companions adjust their eyes for what would follow so they would not be blinded. Kyra drew upon the arcane energies coursing through her wooden body. They gathered in the palm of her hand, bursting from the bark like a bud of sunlight. The brilliant rays washed across the tunnel, exposing not merely cold grey shapes, but the roof and floor in all their colour and detail.

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