Elfsorrow - By James Barclay Page 0,106

them moving, he ran back to his own bed and began to unstring it, his eyes flicking into the forest as the watery light grew in strength. He stuffed the hammock into his pack, checked the wrapped parchments were secure and slung the bag over his shoulder.

Straightening, he met Awin’s eyes.

‘What’s got into you?’ asked the soldier. ‘There’s nothing anywhere near. I—’

He stopped and looked past Erys’s shoulder. The mage swung round and saw it too. A shadow flitting across his vision, fast and low. Erys backed off.

‘Get behind me,’ said Awin, drawing his sword from his scabbard. ‘Trouble, you two, look lively. To your left. Get a shield up, Erys.’

The other two scrambled to shrug on leather armour and grab swords but Erys didn’t even begin to form the shape for a HardShield. He could see more figures moving. Upright this time. Like darker patches of shade and moving impossibly fast in the dense, overhanging, choking growth. He kept on backing away, his ears roaring with the clamour of his fear, praying that none of the shades were behind him. He’d have turned to look but he didn’t really want to know.

Awin was crouched low, snapping out what he could see as he scanned the dark depths. The others were circling round slowly, swords and daggers drawn, armour untied and flapping. Erys saw the shadows move. He heard a growl. Something black, sleek, low and full of muscle flowed from the forest. It slammed into one of the soldiers whose name escaped him in the muddle of his mind. The scream was inhuman.

Awin and the other soldier ran in opposite directions, the latter stopping suddenly as the forest moved in front of him. Steel glinted and his head snapped back, blood misting into the dawn. Awin saw him go down and ran back.

‘The shield, Erys, now!’

Erys desperately tried to clamp onto some concentration. He knew what he had to do. The shape was simple but its edges kept getting away from him and he had to lose himself before he could save himself. The shape formed. He dragged it together, blotting out Awin’s panicked shouts and the sounds of the sleek shadow ripping the life from a man he’d heard laughing the night before. He cast as Awin turned a despairing face to him. CloakedWalk.

He stepped back and knew by Awin’s expression that he’d disappeared.

‘Bastard!’ yelled the soldier. ‘Coward!’

He was almost crying; he knew his death was imminent. Erys edged further away. Awin turned at more sounds, a whimper escaping his lips. The black cat was gone, returned to the shadows. And from the forest they came.

Three of them, moving smoothly into the campsite. Tall, lean and with faces painted black, green and brown. Two carried short slim blades, the third had a hand in a pouch at his belt. Erys tried to contain his breathing and the urge to run. He heard movement and the black cat, the size of a war dog, stopped beside him. It sniffed the air, knowing something was amiss but seeing nothing with its keen eyes. It moved on, a low growl in its throat. And after it came another elf. White and black halved face, the stark contrast in the dark was terrifying, like the half-face was floating, ghostly. He too looked square at the delicately retreating Erys but didn’t stop.

Poor Awin was surrounded. He straightened now and dropped his sword. He held up his hands.

‘Please,’ he begged. ‘I surrender.’

But they said nothing, just carried on advancing. Two came to his sides and grabbed an arm each. The third stepped up, pushed Awin’s chin up with one hand and drove his blade through the man’s neck with the other. The cat roared, the black and white elf exulted.

It was all Erys could do to stop himself crying out. He put his hands behind him, feeling his way. They found the trunk of a tree. Erys carried on, edging himself around it. His foot came down on a twig which snapped with a report like thunder in his ears. Elves and animal looked towards him. Awin’s body dropped to the ground and he died ignored.

Erys fought the urge to stop moving, to become even more silent. He saw them speaking to each other. They couldn’t see him. One of them came towards him, his eyes piercing green, catching the first shafts of sunlight. Erys kept on taking his gentle steps. He wanted to turn and run but was fearful of letting them out

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