best attempts to gnaw on his face with scornful eyes.
‘Look at that.’ He gestured to Irontide with insulting casualness. ‘She . . . it? Whatever hasn’t stopped moving since dawn.’
Asper glanced up and frowned. It was difficult to maintain her anger at the sight of Irontide’s crown; another more loathsome sensation crept over her.
The greater Omen skulked up and down the lines of its lesser parasitic kin like a general inspecting its troops. Of course, Asper admitted, there was no way to tell if the creature was even looking at the others; they were much too far away to make out even the barest detail of features besides the creature’s size.
And yet, the revulsion it emanated was tangible even from the shore. Everything about it was horrible: its ungainly gait, its bobbing head, its messy, angular body. Asper admitted with momentary unabashedness that she would much prefer it to remain far away.
Of course, she thought with a frown, Gariath wouldn’t even hesitate to get up and tear its wings off . . . Are those wings or hands?
‘Fascinating, isn’t it?’
Her frown became a deep gash across her face; it appeared that someone else wasn’t at all bashful about the creature’s presence, either.
‘All those Omens,’ Dreadaeleon gestured out to the tower, ‘standing perfectly still.’
‘It’s not like they’ve got anything else to do,’ Asper grunted.
‘They are the vermin of hell, Lorekeeper,’ Greenhair agreed. ‘They bear not the gifts of thought and heart.’
‘We know that much, certainly. But look, they aren’t moping about.’ He glanced at Asper. ‘Recall that, whenever we’ve found them separated from an Abysmyth . . . or should I say their Abysmyth, they’ve always looked addled, distraught.’
‘We’ve only seen that happen once,’ Asper replied.
‘Twice - Gariath said they were acting in such a way when he was disposing of them.’ He paused, licked his lips. ‘I guess I wouldn’t know for certain, though, since apparently no one noticed he had left me for dead at that point.’
‘Perhaps you should thank him.’ She forced acid through her grumble. ‘After all, you found fine company in a sea-trollop. ’
‘Trollop?’ Greenhair tilted her head. ‘That is . . . what you call a shellfish, yes?’
‘It’s some manner of fish, all right,’ Asper seethed.
‘As I was saying,’ Dreadaeleon interrupted with a snarl far too fierce for his frame, ‘these particular Omens don’t seem at all bothered by the fact that there isn’t an Abysmyth in sight.’
‘I can appreciate that feeling.’
‘As can we all.’ Dreadaeleon nodded. ‘But consider the events of this morning when I lured them away with my glamer.’
Asper nodded grimly, remembering the situation all too vividly.
The larger parasite had reacted swiftly, hurling itself off the tower with a piercing wail. Echoed by its lesser kin, the shriek tainted sky and sea as they descended in a stream of white feathers and bulbous eyes upon the illusory blood-stain Dreadaeleon had cast upon the sea.
She winced, recalling the even louder scream when they discovered it was false. Far too late to even notice Lenk and the others slipping in, they had simply returned to the battlements, where they now roosted.
‘They followed the big one,’ Asper muttered, ‘like ducklings following their mother.’
‘I was going to compare them to lemmings, but your analogy might be better.’ Dreadaeleon grinned. ‘At any rate, the greater Omen seems to act as a substitute for the Abysmyths, if you will, giving orders in place of them.’ He tapped his cheek thoughtfully. ‘Though they don’t seem that much brighter than the small ones, do they?’
‘Not especially, no.’ She glanced at him. ‘I suspect you have a reason for thinking about this?’
‘While knowledge is its own reward, I do. If the big one gives the orders, then it stands to reason that we can effectively render all those little ones a moot issue.’ He extended a single finger out towards the tower, aiming it at the greater Omen, and grinned. ‘Zap.’
‘That’s . . . actually not bad.’ Asper felt slightly frustrated at having to compliment the boy, but nodded appreciatively regardless. ‘Cut off the head and the body falls. If it was that simple, the way for Lenk and the others would be clear.’
‘Right.’ Dreadaeleon nodded. ‘If they come out.’
‘When they come out,’ she snapped. Turning back to the tower, she bit her lower lip. ‘The trick, then, would be to kill the big one before it could reach them.’ She glanced him over appraisingly. ‘Could you hit it from here?’