Adept (The Essence Gate War, Book 1) - By Michael Arnquist Page 0,43

sinuous vines that blocked its progress, and it was as loath to make contact with the web of vines as it was to retrace its steps. Amric sheathed his blades and approached slowly, speaking soft and soothing words to the wild-eyed beast even as he continued to eye his surroundings for new threats. It was the work of several minutes, but he managed to calm the gelding enough to lead it back to his companions.

When he returned with the bay on his heels, Halthak was sitting up with his head resting in his hands. His pebbled flesh looked pallid, and his eyes were unfocused as he glanced up to nod at Amric’s approach.

“How are you feeling?” Amric asked, tying his horse to a nearby tree branch with the others.

“Like my skull was used to toll the great bell of some cathedral,” Halthak answered in a rueful tone. “But as soon as I can concentrate, I can heal it. I will be fine.”

Amric clasped the healer’s shoulder as he strode past, and he dropped to one knee near Bellimar, who was examining the corpse of one of their assailants. It looked as if it had once been a man, or was cast in the shape of a man, but all hair had been removed and every exposed inch of its flesh was a glistening black. And black to the core, Amric noted, as he observed the cross-sections where its arm and head had been severed. There was no blood seeping from the wounds, no bone or red flesh visible within. It was swathed in coils of some filthy canvas material that were falling away from it in tatters, as if it had been bound tight in layers of ceremonial cloth at one point. It appeared to be otherwise naked underneath.

Amric’s gaze raked over the other bodies, and found them all identically garbed and featured, except that they had not all been of the same race; three were human, two were beast men, one an Ork, and one he could not place, some slender and angular creature with a long beak-like snout. They were all like twisted golems cast in the shape of actual humanoid races.

“I have seen many dark creatures as the corruption touched our homeland,” Amric muttered. “But these I have not seen. What are they?”

Bellimar shook his head, his brow furrowed as he ran the cloth between his fingertips. “I do not know. I have never seen these either, and I thought I had seen every misshapen thing wrought of magic this world had to offer.”

There was an undercurrent to his statement that gave Amric a fleeting chill. He studied Bellimar a moment before speaking again. “They are strong, fast and impervious to pain. They fought without any regard for their own welfare, ignored the horses in favor of pursuing us instead, and appeared intent on capturing rather than slaying. For what possible purpose, I wonder?”

“We can only guess at this point,” Bellimar mused. “Though I would wager Halthak is very fortunate to be pondering that question here with us right now.”

The Half-Ork gave a vigorous nod as he pushed himself to his feet. His color had returned, and there was no longer a swelling bruise along the side of his face. He walked past them and bent to retrieve his staff.

“Is anyone injured?” he asked. “I can heal you now.”

“Nothing but bruises and scrapes here,” Amric said. “All of which can heal on their own without need of magic.”

Valkarr nodded at this, and folded his arms.

“Do not be so certain, swordsman,” Bellimar warned. “Come, you should see this.”

The old man rose and walked from the trail, and Amric followed. The head of the creature which had snatched up Halthak was lying on the grassy sward a few feet from the hard-packed earth of the path, facing away. Bellimar nudged it with one foot, and the head lolled toward them. Amric growled an oath and had a hand halfway to sword hilt by reflex before he caught himself. The head’s grim mouth was still working in a morbid parody of speech, gaping and grimacing at them in soundless fury. Like the rest of its body, it had no hair; there was no beard or stubble, no hair atop the head, and no trace of brows above eyes which rolled to fix upon its intended prey like twin pits of midnight.

“Whatever force powers these creatures appears to be housed in their heads, as you noted during the battle, for the