Chapter 488: No way out
Mason and Night Eyes walked back up to the entrance of the Maker fortress (or whatever the hell it was) in silence. The centaur looked lost in thought, disturbed, increasingly angry. Mason hoped it wasn’t about the tree seed, but he was worried it was.
Would the clever shaman convince his people to attack Mason and take it? He wasn’t worried they’d succeed—but he was worried they’d break the damn thing in the fight, or that he’d leave the ‘grass sea’ a bloody mess. He could just leave, obviously, but he still needed to go back to sort out the whole human and elven slave problem, not to mention maybe take Lila…
There was another problem, that was for sure. He had no idea how she’d get on with his women back home in Nassau. In fact he kind of hoped she’d just move in to her own place.
She was great and all, and the sex had been fantastic. But better to have her just…out of the way somewhere…maybe get to know the other girls slowly…as a friend, or an acquaintance, before the whole ‘she’ll be living with us and sharing me’ thing…
He really needed to get his dick under control.
As he and Night Eyes stepped to the last hallway and possibly another pass at the horrible trap, Mason was reminded he should be thinking more about survival than women. And, you know, magic seeds, and demon wars, and nature gods breathing down his neck.
“You figure we’ll have to…”
“It’s gone,” Night Eyes said, staring at the entrance and not seeming all that happy about it. “There’s nothing now.”
Mason nodded, not sure what to say to the complicated shaman.
“Do you think your ancestors…I mean, did you have some kind of…do you figure this is what they wanted?”
“I don’t think they were my ancestors at all.” The shaman’s jaw clenched. “I think these Makers had some kind of magic ward that attuned to us because we arrived first. Nothing more. My father died for no reason whatsoever.”
Right. Mason had kind of forgot about that. Maybe a topic change…
“Listen, about the seed, and what the druid told us about what it could do…”
“You’ll want to keep that hidden,” said the shaman, turning to meet Mason’s gaze. “My people aren’t fools, but they lust for power. I wouldn’t want any to die for useless greed.” Here the shaman’s expression softened. “You’re the one who earned it, Hunter. Use it how you see fit. My people aren’t the servants of great trees or druids, it’s not meant for us.”
Mason believed the creature, despite his instinct not to. Not that his belief made it absolutely true.
“What do you intend to do? About the ‘holy places’? What’ll you tell them?”
“I have no idea.” Night Eyes snorted. “All this time…I’ve been hoping for some kind of change. A new way of life for the Green Sea clans. Now I think we may be doomed to travel the plains forever.”
They walked out past the ‘ward’ in silence, nothing happening, just as the centaur said. Mason had the strange impulse to comfort the creature like he might with a friend, but he had no idea if that’s what they were. It was hard to see passed the whole ‘tribe of slaving raiders’ thing.
Yes, human beings were no better in the past. But they’d evolved since then. He doubted he’d have been good buddies with Mongols or Comanche, either. And despite Blake thinking he could somehow unify the whole world, Mason didn’t see how you could just make pals with groups of non-humans who still belonged to some fantasy iron age. Ideas mattered.
What was he supposed to do, hand out copies of the US constitution? Maybe a few bibles? They might have to modify it a touch for the post-apocalyptic world. ‘In roboGod we trust’. The right to bear magic powers. Oh except mind control, because people sure hated that.
“I owe you the slaves, and knowledge from our Pathfinders.” Night Eyes gestured towards his camp. “You honored your word. Now I will honor mine.”
“Technically, I didn’t kill the beast,” Mason said, and the shaman at least smiled a little.
“Problems are often solved in many ways.”
They walked in a more comfortable silence back towards the camp, and Mason was reminded that some other clan had tried to kill the shaman the moment he’d left the grasslands.
There were none of the creatures anywhere near them this time, fortunately, but Mason still expected trouble ahead. And it begged the question: would he protect the shaman again? Would he interfere and kill to keep Night Eyes safe?
His instinct was yes, though he found it a bit hard to justify. He just liked the creature, that was most of it. Cerebus would probably say that was enough.
They’d made it about halfway before Mason smelled death and something worse on the wind. It was magic—familiar and terrible. Like rotten eggs dipped in fish sauce. Magic from the pits of the abyss. He glanced around them but saw nothing, not sure yet what to say until he found a source.
“Something is wrong.” The shaman squinted, then bolted ahead. Mason ran to keep pace, both of them cresting a small rise to look out over the plain.
The centaur camp was in chaos. A dark and unnatural mist moving in from the north.
The half-horse creatures ran everywhere, many of their corpses scattered across the grass. Several clusters of tents were in flames, and horrible creatures fought and chased centaur of every size.
Most had horns and hooves like the classic depictions of a biblical Satan. Though these ranged in size and shape and color—some almost black, standing tall like men with huge horns; others more red and hunched on all fours.
Night Eyes stopped to stare, his mouth open, dark eyes wide with horror.
“Focus.” Mason reached up and grabbed the creature’s arm. It got his attention, though the shaman still stared with obvious shock. Whatever concerns he’d had about the centaur were momentarily dying away—nothing deserved a death by these demons.
“We’re going down there. And we’re killing as many as we can,” he said. “If there’s anyone you want saved, you think about where they might be. Understood?”
Night Eyes closed his mouth, swallowing as he nodded. Mason summoned his bow, glancing at his titles and Abyssal Arrows with a dark smile, trying not to think about where Lila might be. Then he ran down the hill towards the camp.
**
Lila clung to Pally’s broad back, hands gripped in his mane, her heart pounding. The powerful centaur galloped along the edge of the camp, shouting out in alarm to anyone in earshot.
“The shadows have come! To arms! We’re under attack!”
The sun was high, but a horrible fog had settled over everything. Lila couldn’t see much beyond the shapes of the tents, of the occasional centaur moving with panicked motion.
But she could hear the…creatures. Horrible moans and growls, challenging howls like a wolf crossed with something almost bovine. They mixed with the sounds of metal clanging and flesh ripping, the horrible cries of dying and terrified things.
Pally’s tribe were mostly scouts. They’d seen something coming and tried to warn the others, but the mist had confused them. Tricked them. Many had died before they escaped. Pally had sent his women and children with some of his warriors, then gone back to help.
Lila could have gone with them, she knew that. But she hadn’t had any idea where to go or what to do, all she knew is she felt safest with him. Her gut said not to leave his side, so she’d jumped on his back, and he hadn’t stopped her.
“There!” Lila pointed over Pally’s shoulder as she saw red eyes flash in the mist. Pally swerved and threw one of his javelins, grunting in effort as the missile sailed true. It struck with an awful tearing sound, and the creature cried out and fell.
“Good eye, little bird! But watch my flanks.”
Lila nodded and looked left and right, trembling with fear. Memories of her ‘real’ life flashed, sitting in the back of a pick up truck as she drove with her uncles through the outback pointing out wildlife. They’d all made fun of her Dad the ‘city boy’, teasing her and her sister with winks and spinning tires and stories about dingos and snakes.
She’d been excited, then. But the monsters had been a fiction, the stories exaggerated to make little girls smile. Not this time. This time the monsters were real.
“Two on the right side!” Lila said, trying to control her voice. Pally slowed and threw another javelin, hissing in anger after a clear miss before turning and bolting away. Lila could hear the creatures chasing them.
More eyes emerged from the other side. Lila almost called out but she saw Pally notice them, turning again to try and find a bigger gap. He whistled to announce himself to any nearby centaurs, then drew his long, curved blade.
“Hold on, little bird,” he said, his usually cheerful voice deadly serious. Lila clung to his back with all her strength.
A sound like flame whistled past them, and Lila shrieked and ducked, pressing herself against the half-horse body. Pally jumped over something and almost tossed her off, his body twisting as he slashed and fought something she couldn’t see.
She stared off to see more eyes. And creatures with fangs and horns and awful curled up bodies like red, hunchback monkeys. They stared at her with twisted smiles as they licked their lips. She wanted to tell Pally to run, to get away, but she knew he would if he could. Somehow they’d circled him. Cut him off.
Lila tried not to imagine what was about to happen.
“Hold on,” said Pally, another violent surge as he charged forward and slashed, grunting in pain as something grabbed at his side. Something sharp raked down Lila’s leg, and she bit her tongue trying not to scream.
But Pally must have gotten through. He was running now, and Lila almost wept with relief as she sat back up to see where they were going. Pally stopped running.
Lila stared as dozens of demons came out of the mist ahead. And to both sides. And still behind them.
“By the gods.” The brave centaur leader, and Lila’s protector for the last few months, looked to both sides and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Lila. There’s no way out. Get down now. I go to my ancestors.”
Lila trembled with terror, sobbing as she slid off his back to the grass. He stared out as if he’d forgotten her, eyes wild with intensity as he raised his sword and charged. Lila covered her mouth as he went, trying not to stare at the endless pairs of red eyes coming closer, and closer.
Until she realized one pair was green.