. . .
He would have to find those answers and soon but right now, he had a more pressing problem. He threw himself forward. He balanced on all fours. His snout elongated. His fingers retracted and became stubby paws. His thinking became more feral as his body changed. His memories dwindled until all he could remember was what had happened a few minutes ago. The complex web of thoughts broke up. His senses became keener, his body stronger and more resilient.
His sight blurred and his sense of smell improved. Clouds of interesting aromas drifted around him. Dank stench of dungeon tunnels. Moistness of distant water. Faint tingling of fungal spores drifting through the dark. Reek of old blood and pain.
The slavering hounds so near, so near.
***
Fang’s nervousness evaporated once he had the scent of prey in his nostrils. His tongue lolled out. He panted. The other hounds took their cue from him. Their eyes were fierce. Their howls were full of hunger. The sound echoed down the corridors, a noise to inspire dread in any who heard it.
Rodric grinned even as he strained to hold the great beasts on the leash. This was more like it. This was what he had expected. This was a hunt and he was the Master of Hounds.
Gerd limped along, his bad leg dragging, an expression of exasperated determination on his face. He was going to keep up no matter what happened. Rhiana had a haunted look, as if she could hear something they could not and it troubled her.
This place was a maze of stairs and vaults. Corridors twisted and sloped until all sense of direction departed. Open doors led into cells containing chained skeletons, desiccated bodies and machines of torture.
Something like dread entered Kormak’s heart as they moved through the dungeon corridors. He recognised the flicker of fear passing through his mind. He had felt it before, in the night, in dark enclosed spaces, under the stars and under the earth. He had felt it while he hunted creatures he knew to be more dangerous than him, who might turn at bay and slay him out of hand. He had felt it when chased by men and beasts and monsters.
This situation might end in his death. He would survive only by being faster or stronger or more cunning than that which opposed him. Luck or brawn or quickness of sinew would decide his fate. The knowledge that each moment might be his last thrilled him. He walked the edge of the abyss of oblivion. At any moment he might tumble into it. The gates of the Kingdom of Dust yawned and Death looked out with glittering eyes.
It was what had kept him hunting monsters in the dark for decades. It was for this he lived and from this he would die and in his secret heart of hearts, he did not care. Gerd had been right. They would have to pry his dwarf-forged blade from his cold dead hands. There was no other way he was giving this up. He looked at the abbot and got an answering grin. Gerd too felt the thrill of the hunt.
He lengthened his stride and prepared to draw his blade. The howling became louder. The dogs had led them to what they sought.
***
The hounds were close now, the Old One thought. His form swirled in response, adding sub-dermal armour, spikes and claws. His teeth grew longer and sharper. He fought down the fury building within him. Now was not the time to give way to instinct. He was too close to the bestial as it was.
He could lose himself in rage and never come back, drown in a pool of animal instinct and thoughtless reaction. It had happened to others of his kind, a fate to be avoided at all costs.
He shifted form, enhancing the areas of his brain responsible for reasoning at the cost of his powers of perception.
He put his back to the wall and tried to force himself to think.
The human would be here soon, bearing that terrible sword.
He flexed his claws. He was no longer disoriented after escaping long confinement. He was confident that he could kill the ones who hunted him.
But he might take another wound. The one he had already was weakening him. Changing took more effort than it should have.
Khazduri. The word came out of nowhere bringing with it an image of a short humanoid, a being broader than a man, with longer arms and a beard of sensory bristles