that piece of caitsthe’s liver and become one himself to fight them off, they would all be dead —
He forced the memories away. Concentrate on survival; nothing else is relevant. Glynnie and Benn were staring at him, holding their knives. They knew what was coming, and how little chance they had. Even with his right hand, Rix would have struggled to beat a pack of shifters. Without it, what hope did he have?
“Shut that door,” he said, indicating the one through which they had entered. “We’ll go out the other way.”
Glynnie pushed the door closed. “There’s no lock.”
“Damn!” Rix looked around. “Give us a hand with the bench.”
They heaved at it but it was fixed to the floor, and so was the other one.
“Maybe they’ll go straight past,” said Benn.
“They’ll sniff us out, lad.”
They went through the far door and tried to close it but the rusted hinges would not budge. Beyond, a well-made tunnel curved around to the right, then down in a series of long, shallow steps in a sweeping left-hand curve.
“Go ahead, Glynnie,” said Rix. “Hold the light high so I can guard our backs.”
They went down. Rix backed after them, straining to see into the darkness, for the bluish light of the glowstone only extended up a few yards past him. Not nearly enough. The sly creatures would creep down in the dark, attack in a mass, and he’d have less than a second to defend.
“What’s down below, Glynnie?” he said. “Can you see?”
“No, but it’s getting steeper,” she whispered. “Wait, there’s a door going off to the right.”
“Can we lock it behind us?”
“No.”
“Keep going down.”
A minute later, Rix caught a characteristic rank whiff on an air current. Hyena shifters. They were through the vault door, high above. And he couldn’t fight them without light.
“Smelling stink-damp again,” said Benn.
“Me too,” said Glynnie, a moment later. “It’s getting stronger with every step. Lord, if we keep going down…”
Now Rix could smell it. “It’ll poison us. We’ll go back up to that door.”
They turned and went up, but now the reek of hyena shifters was overpowering.
“They’re close,” quavered Glynnie. “Lord, Lord —?”
“Light the torch, quick.”
“But there’s stink-damp! I can’t make a flame here.”
“I don’t think there’s enough of it to explode up here.”
She gave him a dubious glance and handed the glowstone to her brother. Taking out the fabric-wrapped bundle of wood, then a small wrapped lump, which she unwrapped and began to rub into the cloth with her hands. Butter. Rix could smell it. She wiped her hands on her pants then, gingerly, struck sparks with her flint striker. The buttered cloth caught and burned with a sizzling yellow flame.
He clamped his dead fingers around the bundle and held it high. And recoiled. Glynnie gasped. Benn let out a strangled squeal.
The light reflected back from a dozen pairs of eyes, less than ten yards up. Red eyes, though the hyena shifters had black fur that made them almost invisible.
Rix drew Maloch and held it out. “Got your knives?”
“Yes, Lord,” whispered Benn and Glynnie together.
“If one attacks you, go for the throat.”
It might not be enough to stop a hyena shifter, but it was the best they could do. Rix swallowed. His heart was thundering, but inside he was calm, focused. He’d faced death many times in the past weeks. He’d even wanted death at his darkest moments. But not now. It was up to him to protect the innocents.
Taking a step up the slope, he met the eyes of the pack leader.
“I’m going to spill your guts on the steps,” said Rix. “You’re going to die and the other hyenas will eat you. You haven’t got a hope against me.”
Another step. The words were nonsense, but the steely self-confidence he projected was not. To beat the pack, he had to assert dominance over its leader. “I’m the top dog. Come onto me and I’ll kill you, first
He forced the memories away. Concentrate on survival; nothing else is relevant. Glynnie and Benn were staring at him, holding their knives. They knew what was coming, and how little chance they had. Even with his right hand, Rix would have struggled to beat a pack of shifters. Without it, what hope did he have?
“Shut that door,” he said, indicating the one through which they had entered. “We’ll go out the other way.”
Glynnie pushed the door closed. “There’s no lock.”
“Damn!” Rix looked around. “Give us a hand with the bench.”
They heaved at it but it was fixed to the floor, and so was the other one.
“Maybe they’ll go straight past,” said Benn.
“They’ll sniff us out, lad.”
They went through the far door and tried to close it but the rusted hinges would not budge. Beyond, a well-made tunnel curved around to the right, then down in a series of long, shallow steps in a sweeping left-hand curve.
“Go ahead, Glynnie,” said Rix. “Hold the light high so I can guard our backs.”
They went down. Rix backed after them, straining to see into the darkness, for the bluish light of the glowstone only extended up a few yards past him. Not nearly enough. The sly creatures would creep down in the dark, attack in a mass, and he’d have less than a second to defend.
“What’s down below, Glynnie?” he said. “Can you see?”
“No, but it’s getting steeper,” she whispered. “Wait, there’s a door going off to the right.”
“Can we lock it behind us?”
“No.”
“Keep going down.”
A minute later, Rix caught a characteristic rank whiff on an air current. Hyena shifters. They were through the vault door, high above. And he couldn’t fight them without light.
“Smelling stink-damp again,” said Benn.
“Me too,” said Glynnie, a moment later. “It’s getting stronger with every step. Lord, if we keep going down…”
Now Rix could smell it. “It’ll poison us. We’ll go back up to that door.”
They turned and went up, but now the reek of hyena shifters was overpowering.
“They’re close,” quavered Glynnie. “Lord, Lord —?”
“Light the torch, quick.”
“But there’s stink-damp! I can’t make a flame here.”
“I don’t think there’s enough of it to explode up here.”
She gave him a dubious glance and handed the glowstone to her brother. Taking out the fabric-wrapped bundle of wood, then a small wrapped lump, which she unwrapped and began to rub into the cloth with her hands. Butter. Rix could smell it. She wiped her hands on her pants then, gingerly, struck sparks with her flint striker. The buttered cloth caught and burned with a sizzling yellow flame.
He clamped his dead fingers around the bundle and held it high. And recoiled. Glynnie gasped. Benn let out a strangled squeal.
The light reflected back from a dozen pairs of eyes, less than ten yards up. Red eyes, though the hyena shifters had black fur that made them almost invisible.
Rix drew Maloch and held it out. “Got your knives?”
“Yes, Lord,” whispered Benn and Glynnie together.
“If one attacks you, go for the throat.”
It might not be enough to stop a hyena shifter, but it was the best they could do. Rix swallowed. His heart was thundering, but inside he was calm, focused. He’d faced death many times in the past weeks. He’d even wanted death at his darkest moments. But not now. It was up to him to protect the innocents.
Taking a step up the slope, he met the eyes of the pack leader.
“I’m going to spill your guts on the steps,” said Rix. “You’re going to die and the other hyenas will eat you. You haven’t got a hope against me.”
Another step. The words were nonsense, but the steely self-confidence he projected was not. To beat the pack, he had to assert dominance over its leader. “I’m the top dog. Come onto me and I’ll kill you, first
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