A Minstrel’s Quest (The Trouble with Magic Book 4) by B. J. Beach Page A

succession, until Corlin was encircled by a chain of pulsing green lights. They began to expand, casting their spectral glow ever wider. Corlin gasped as long slender antennae waved at him from huge triangular heads. Long, narrow-waisted bodies, each covered in a dark red-brown carapace, gleamed and glinted, disappearing into shadow as the light began to dim. Soon, all were once again enveloped in darkness. Impressed, Corlin gave the tough, smooth surface beneath him an appreciative pat. The giant ant flicked back its antennae, and brushed his arm.
    Frix’s nasal voice cut through Corlin’s thoughts. “Right. Now you’ve seen us, let’s get going. Reduia is following, and she’d make a grab for you if we let her get close enough.”
    Hard, strong limbs lifted Corlin off the back of his mount, and lowered him to the ground. “Now you’ll really have to run. Me and my boys can shift when we have to.”
    Corlin’s heart missed a beat. “Suppose I stumble or go the wrong way? In case you hadn’t noticed I have a bent foot. Running is something I don’t do successfully”
    A chorus of rasping clicks sounded from all around, and he felt something prod his back. Frix’s voice came from behind him. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep you on the right path.” Hundreds of feet began pattering over leaves, and Frix gave him a gentle shove.”Now, run!”
    Corlin ran, his uneven hobbling gait pushing him forward into the darkness. Whenever he tripped or stumbled, he found himself pinned between moving walls of giant ant bodies, supporting him until he found his feet again. The hours passed, and still the army surged through the forest’s gathering night. Everything in their path, living or dead, was trampled underfoot. Corlin began to weaken. His limbs ached, and his thigh still burned with the effect of the ant-soldier’s bite. He staggered, and tried to call to Frix, but could only manage a feeble croak. Armoured bodies pressed against him, lifting him above the soft, uneven forest floor. With no strength left to resist, he felt his body being tilted forward, his arms and legs gripped and spread. His face met a cold hard surface. Gripping the edge of the carapace below the neck, he relaxed into the rhythm of being carried along face down on a giant ant’s back.
    Enraged screams and spitting hisses jolted him out of his slumber. The ant army had stopped marching, but were not at a standstill. Corlin clamped his hands over his ears in an attempt to shut out the din of clicking, hissing and rustling which swirled over and around him.
    Frix’s voice cut through his frantic thoughts. “Stay where you are.”
    Another hissing scream pierced the acid-fume-filled air. Ejected from Reduia’s needle-like proboscis, a thin jet of steaming liquid hissed past Corlin’s face, flying droplets splattering over his mouth and nose. Gasping for breath, he frantically wiped it away, almost gagging on the acrid stench. The rustling and scraping of the seething mass of bodies in continuous movement beneath him grew louder, and he felt himself being lifted higher and sideways. He made a grab for a hand-hold as his mount teetered, plunged head downward, and fell on its back. Pinned underneath with only his head and one arm free of the writhing crush, Corlin fought to breathe as unseen things squelched and burst open under the combined weights of himself and his toppled ant-steed. He could feel wetness seeping through his clothing, and wondered if it was his own blood. Hard prickly feet trod on his face, and his eyes began to blur as the combined fumes of the ant defences and Reduia’s attack accumulated in and above a thick layer of leaf-mould. From somewhere above him another scream of fury and frustration tore through the sullied air. Something cold and slimy attached itself to his ear, pulled itself up, and began to crawl across his face. Corlin’s scream rose high, to follow the fading echoes of the other into the perpetual night.
    Little