Prisoner of the Lagon by Kaoru Kurimoto

Prisoner of the Lagon by Kaoru Kurimoto

Author:Kaoru Kurimoto [Kurimoto, Kaoru]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: fantasy, to-read
ISBN: 9781934287194
Amazon: 1934287199
Goodreads: 2266017
Publisher: Vertical
Published: 2005-06-02T00:00:00+00:00


There was an unsettling popping sound, and the strength went out of the creature’s jaws. Its head hanging limply from its twisted neck, the wolf dropped off Guin’s back and landed with a thud on the ground.

Yet by this time, another wolf had seen its opening and leapt down from atop the rock. Guin ducked and grabbed its gray body as it sailed over him, slamming it into a jagged projection of stone. His eyes gleamed red and he surveyed the clearing with the cold stare of a hunter.

The smell of blood on the wind and the howls and death rattles of the wolves had announced the terrible fray far across the rocks and crags. Though Guin had killed or otherwise disabled no small number of wolves, there seemed to be no fewer of the beasts around him than before, their eyes gleaming and their heads low, ready to lunge in for the kill. They were like the ghouls of the Marches, constantly multiplying, a new foe springing up to replace each one he cut down. Their hundred pairs of eyes were like stars in hell, glowing with a dark fire.

The hair stood on the back of Guin’s neck, and a low rattling growl of warning sounded in his throat. He looked around, hesitating in a momentary lull in the struggle. It was not reason, but his animal instincts that gave him pause.

Continue to fight and you will lose.

Civilized man had morals, logic, chivalry, the impulses of temperament, and the urgings of honor. But a true beast was encumbered by none of these things; it knew only the merciless contest and a blind, basic instinct for self-preservation. Now Guin’s instinct had spoken to him, and he would heed it.

For a moment the leopard-man’s fanged mouth hung open as he uttered a last threatening growl at those fiery eyes. But he was no longer interested in winning this battle. Dodging the wolves that leapt for him, he turned suddenly and shot like a bolt of lightning up the rock face he had stood against, then began to bound away, leaping from boulder to boulder like the winged taulos, making his escape.

A great cry rose up from the darkness—the wolves had tasted blood, and they did not want to give up their prey. Swiftly the pack gave chase. Wolves vaulted to the tops of boulders and wound their way between the rocks. Their quarry did not stop to look back.

The lead wolf sprang from a boulder-top towards Guin’s retreating back, aiming its fangs for the base of his leopard skull, but it was as if the giant warrior had eyes in the back of his head. With uncanny accuracy, Guin sensed the beast’s trajectory, and just before it reached him ducked and leapt aside and was off to the next boulder, leaving the wolf to snap its jaws upon the empty dark.

Guin’s chest rose and fell like a massive pair of bellows, sending air into his lungs, and he moved with an unconsciously surefooted grace across the jagged, pointed rocks.



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