The Nomad - By Simon Hawke Page 0,13
trapped on a plane of existence alien to them, they assumed their shape from the soil around them, usually sand, but in this case, the creature had assembled its corporeal self from the salt crystals of the Great Ivory Plain. Its illusion shattered, it was now on the attack.
Ryana awoke at the half howling, half hissing inhuman sounds it made, and she rolled quickly to her feet, drawing her sword.
“Stay back!” shouted Sorak. He knew that ordinary weapons would not harm the creature. They would pass right through the shifting salt crystals, like knives stabbing into sand. Galdra, however, was no ordinary weapon. As the creature lunged at him once more, Sorak leapt to one side, rolled, and drew Galdra from its scabbard as he came back up.
Ryana kept her distance, crouching warily. The creature stood between them, trying to decide on its next attack. It was not in the least intimidated by their blades. Suddenly, it melted into the salt surface of the plain in a cascade of crystals.
“What happened?” asked Ryana.
“Stand by me, quickly!” Sorak said.
As Ryana moved to comply, the creature suddenly rose up out of the ground behind her.
“Behind you!” Sorak cried.
Ryana spun around, slashing out with her blade. It passed right through the creature’s neck, but the stroke that would have decapitated any other being had absolutely no effect. The blade simply passed through the shifting salt crystals, which reformed right behind it. As the creature stretched its arms out toward Ryana, seeking to seize her and drain her life energy, Sorak leapt forward, bringing Galdra down in a sweeping arc. The enchanted blade of elven steel whistled through the air and sliced off one of the creature’s arms.
The connection to the body severed, the arm simply burst apart into a spray of gleaming salt crystals that pattered to the ground. In both pain and astonishment, the creature howled out an unearthly sound. Sorak swung his blade once more, but this time, the creature danced back out of its reach, fearful now that it knew this was no ordinary sword. Once more, it melted into the ground with a sound like sand being spilled.
Ryana stood back-to-back with Sorak, and they started circling cautiously, maintaining contact, watching warily all around them. With a sudden rush of sound, the creature sprang up once again, reforming at their feet, trying to separate them. Ryana was thrown forward and fell sprawling, but Sorak twisted, pivoting around, and brought Galdra in close to his body, slashing in a horizontal arc as he turned. The blade passed right through the creature’s torso, severing it, and salt erupted in a spray, engulfing him as the creature wailed its death agony. Like tiny raindrops, the salt crystals pattered to the ground, and the creature’s howl died away upon the wind. Once more, the morning was still.
Ryana exhaled heavily and sheathed her sword. “All I wanted was a little sleep,” she said. “Was that too much to ask?”
Sorak grinned at her. “I’m sorry if I woke you,” he replied. “I tried to be quiet.”
Ryana gazed out at the dark sun, just now rising malevolently from behind the mountains. Already, the salt beneath their feet was growing warmer. “I don’t think I could sleep now, anyway,” she said. “We might as well move on. All I want is to be quit of this forsaken place.”
“It will be a hard journey in the daylight,” Sorak said.
“No harder than getting killed while you’re asleep,” she replied. She shouldered her pack with a sigh. “Let’s go.”
“As you wish,” said Sorak, picking up his pack and staff. He gazed longingly toward the mountains, but at the same time, wondered what new dangers would await them there.
* * *
Valsavis stood by a large rock outcropping on a slope just outside the city, overlooking the Great Ivory Plain. He examined the ground around him, noting the subtle signs most others would have missed. Yes, they had made camp here, there was no doubt about it. They had not built a fire, which would have given away their location this close to the city. And that, in itself, was as clear an indication of who had stopped to rest here as if they had chiseled their names into the rock behind them. They had carefully tried to avoid leaving any evidence of their presence, and most trackers would probably have failed to find this spot where they had stopped to rest. However, Valsavis was no ordinary tracker.
He knew that they had left