Grip of the Shadow Plague Page 0,102

would assist with the diversion. Kendra had done her best to appear equally pleased.

Grandpa raised a handkerchief in the air, waved it briefly, and then let it fall. As the silky square fluttered to the ground, Cloudwing reared, equine muscles churning beneath his silver fur. He clutched a huge bow in one hand, and across his broad back hung a quiver of arrows the size of javelins. Broadhoof unsheathed his tremendous sword with a flourish, the burnished blade catching the sunlight.

Together the centaurs raced across the grass toward the gap in the hedge, blurred hooves flinging up tufts of turf, galloping with such fluid speed that Kendra found herself breathless. Shoulder to shoulder they charged through the gap, stampeding over the dark satyrs who sought to impede their passage.

With a victorious shout, twenty satyrs detached themselves from the hedge at either side of the gap and followed the centaurs through, spreading out in all directions. A few hamadryads ran with them. While the satyrs were quick and nimble, the nymphs put them to shame, seeming more to fly than to run, effortlessly outdistancing any pursuers.

Kendra smiled to herself. No smitten satyr would ever chase down a hamadryad who did not wish to be caught!

Around the field, dryads and satyrs snuck through hidden openings in the hedge, often on hands and knees. Fairies flew over the hedge wall, angling skyward as their shadowy sisters gave chase. The satyrs watching from the boardwalk whistled, stamped, and shouted huzzahs. Many naiads surfaced, heads dripping, eyes wide as they observed the tumult.

Amid the commotion, Hugo charged forward, towing the cart. Grandpa had hidden himself under the tent with the others. Kendra held her breath as the hulking golem stormed through the gap in the hedge unmolested and the cart rumbled out of sight.

After the cart passed through the main gap, a few tall dryads followed, splitting off in different directions, their flowing robes and long hair trailing behind. Satyrs and hamadryads began returning under the hedge and through the gap. Some laughed; others appeared flustered.

Kendra glanced back at the naiads, their weedy hair glossed with slime, their wet faces surprisingly fragile and young for beings whose favorite pastime was drowning humans. Kendra locked eyes with one of them and waved. In response, they all hastily plunged under the water.

Over the next several minutes, more fairies, satyrs, and dryads returned. As they reentered the field, they were welcomed by embraces from friends. Most then turned to anxiously await the arrival of other loved ones.

More minutes passed, and arrivals grew sparse. Running hard, flanks lathered, the centaurs galloped through the gap, forcing a cluster of dark fairies to abandon their pursuit. Only two arrows remained in Cloudwing's quiver.

Less than a minute later, dodging and fighting several dark satyrs, Doren reappeared in the gap, leading a desperate knot of satyrs. Shoving opponents aside, a half dozen satyrs stumbled through the gap into the arms of friends.

Kendra saw a familiar figure standing at the threshold of the field. Verl, snowy fur matted with dirt, chest and shoulders marred by bites and scratches, strained to take a step forward. He had won through to the field, but his eyes widened with panic as an unseen barrier prevented his entry. Kendra saw his childish face begin to contort into a more goatlike countenance, watched his white fur begin to darken. Bleating black satyrs hauled him down from behind, piling on him. Moments later, when Verl arose, he had the head of a goat and fur as black as sable.

The satyrs and hamadryads withdrew from the gap. Kendra descended the gazebo steps and ran to Doren.

"Did they get away all right?" the satyr panted.

"Yes," Kendra said. "How awful about Verl."

"Nasty business," Doren agreed. "At least most of us made it back. The worst trouble came after a flock of dark fairies cornered one of the most powerful dryads. They changed her swiftly, and she went on to nab a bunch of us. I see the centaurs made it back." He nodded toward where Broadhoof and Cloudwing stood ringed by animated satyrs, grimly enduring the adulation.

"They were fast," Kendra said.

Doren nodded as he tried to wipe mud from his collarbone. "They can run. And they can fight. Cloudwing pinned a pair of dark satyrs to a tree with a single arrow. Broadhoof hurled the dark dryad into a ditch. Toward the end, a dark centaur showed up and forced them to retreat."

Broadhoof and Cloudwing trotted away from their admirers. Kendra gazed despairingly

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