mouth.
As the Vampyre staggered wildly, his skull blown apart into a spray of brains and teeth and bone fragments, then quickly recombining into the same greenish-pale grinning mask, Alphonse darted past him, slid on his belly through the blood soaked mud, and snatched the Blood Amulet from its chain.
He heard Lady Blackgore's screech. But he had the Blood Amulet, clenched in his fist. He stuffed it into a pocket of his tunic, under the battle armor, even as he stuck the smoking pistol back into his belt and yanked out its twin.
Jumping to his feet, he saw Lady Blackgore ride at him, the lance point leveled at his puppet chest.
He fired. The ball smashed into her steel breastplate, and the Vampyre Lady somersaulted backward from the saddle.
Ha ha !
The horse kept charging, nostrils and eyes wide, nearly mad from the savage sounds and sights of battle.
Alphonse, sticking the pistol into his belt to free both hands, dodged aside and, smoothly as smoke, stepped into the dangling stirrup and launched himself into the saddle.
Grabbing at the wild black streaming mane with both wooden hands, clamping his pine knees tight, he stayed hard and low in the saddle as his new mount flew like a proverbial vampire bat out of the black cave of hell, plunging through and out of the mass of tangled and clashing bodies.
Right into the cold, dark, deep and rushing river.
Rats
Lucia di Fermonti , Queen of Wolfweir Castle, crouched in the reeking darkness of the low narrow tunnel. Startled by a spiderweb , she'd dropped her torch. It rolled around, flaming, then hissed out.
But there were other torches moving up from behind her. She waited until she could see clearly by the wavering illumination. Looking over her shoulder, she saw two Boy Wolves. They were identical: twins. Both had the same silly tufts of dark fur sticking up from behind their wide human ears.
-My Queen? asked one, uncertainly.
It was Cedric. She recognized him now. The other was Jason.
-My torch fell. It went out.
Lucia's teeth were clicking. She was covered in spiderwebs .
-Assist me, please, she whispered.
There was no need to whisper. They were deep in the dripping tunnel. It was much like the sewer through which she and the puppet boy Alphonse had made their grandly stinking entry into Paris, that dawn before they left for the Alps and the Kingdom of Wolfweir .
It didn't smell quite as nasty. Small mercies, Lucia thought, trembling at the clinging dampness of the cobwebs.
-Yes Queen.
The Boy Wolves came forward from their respectful distance and began to tear away the sticky webs. Lucia stood with her eyes shut. Gasping. Finally she stilled her panic.
-Enough, she said.
It was good enough. She could see clearly again and move without too much shuddering.
They stepped back.
-Onward, Lucia said. Give me your torch. We must go onward.
From behind the boys boomed a wolfish voice:
-Queen Lucia!
A Wolf Man stepped forward. He was wearing a battle breastplate of leather and steel. One arm hung in a sling. He was caked in blood, most of it not his own. Missing his battle helmet, though he wore a sword at his side.
- Malvic !
She embraced him. Lightly, so as not to cause him injury.
-Ah, he whispered into her golden hair. Ah. My good Queen. Leading your people now. Your father is a proud wolf tonight!
Lucia wept a little. More of the women and children were coming up through the tunnel. The darkness evaporated: everywhere torches blazed. Lucia saw jagged veins of crystal in the rock.
-Onward then, she said, wiping her eyes. I am at the front. Malvic , follow just behind. Boys, inspire the others with haste.
With that, she drew a strong breath, pulled her dagger from its leather sheath and lunged into the darkness, slashing cobwebs.
At each slash a mass of spiderwebs parted and she stepped through it.
Malvic
As the Vampyre staggered wildly, his skull blown apart into a spray of brains and teeth and bone fragments, then quickly recombining into the same greenish-pale grinning mask, Alphonse darted past him, slid on his belly through the blood soaked mud, and snatched the Blood Amulet from its chain.
He heard Lady Blackgore's screech. But he had the Blood Amulet, clenched in his fist. He stuffed it into a pocket of his tunic, under the battle armor, even as he stuck the smoking pistol back into his belt and yanked out its twin.
Jumping to his feet, he saw Lady Blackgore ride at him, the lance point leveled at his puppet chest.
He fired. The ball smashed into her steel breastplate, and the Vampyre Lady somersaulted backward from the saddle.
Ha ha !
The horse kept charging, nostrils and eyes wide, nearly mad from the savage sounds and sights of battle.
Alphonse, sticking the pistol into his belt to free both hands, dodged aside and, smoothly as smoke, stepped into the dangling stirrup and launched himself into the saddle.
Grabbing at the wild black streaming mane with both wooden hands, clamping his pine knees tight, he stayed hard and low in the saddle as his new mount flew like a proverbial vampire bat out of the black cave of hell, plunging through and out of the mass of tangled and clashing bodies.
Right into the cold, dark, deep and rushing river.
Rats
Lucia di Fermonti , Queen of Wolfweir Castle, crouched in the reeking darkness of the low narrow tunnel. Startled by a spiderweb , she'd dropped her torch. It rolled around, flaming, then hissed out.
But there were other torches moving up from behind her. She waited until she could see clearly by the wavering illumination. Looking over her shoulder, she saw two Boy Wolves. They were identical: twins. Both had the same silly tufts of dark fur sticking up from behind their wide human ears.
-My Queen? asked one, uncertainly.
It was Cedric. She recognized him now. The other was Jason.
-My torch fell. It went out.
Lucia's teeth were clicking. She was covered in spiderwebs .
-Assist me, please, she whispered.
There was no need to whisper. They were deep in the dripping tunnel. It was much like the sewer through which she and the puppet boy Alphonse had made their grandly stinking entry into Paris, that dawn before they left for the Alps and the Kingdom of Wolfweir .
It didn't smell quite as nasty. Small mercies, Lucia thought, trembling at the clinging dampness of the cobwebs.
-Yes Queen.
The Boy Wolves came forward from their respectful distance and began to tear away the sticky webs. Lucia stood with her eyes shut. Gasping. Finally she stilled her panic.
-Enough, she said.
It was good enough. She could see clearly again and move without too much shuddering.
They stepped back.
-Onward, Lucia said. Give me your torch. We must go onward.
From behind the boys boomed a wolfish voice:
-Queen Lucia!
A Wolf Man stepped forward. He was wearing a battle breastplate of leather and steel. One arm hung in a sling. He was caked in blood, most of it not his own. Missing his battle helmet, though he wore a sword at his side.
- Malvic !
She embraced him. Lightly, so as not to cause him injury.
-Ah, he whispered into her golden hair. Ah. My good Queen. Leading your people now. Your father is a proud wolf tonight!
Lucia wept a little. More of the women and children were coming up through the tunnel. The darkness evaporated: everywhere torches blazed. Lucia saw jagged veins of crystal in the rock.
-Onward then, she said, wiping her eyes. I am at the front. Malvic , follow just behind. Boys, inspire the others with haste.
With that, she drew a strong breath, pulled her dagger from its leather sheath and lunged into the darkness, slashing cobwebs.
At each slash a mass of spiderwebs parted and she stepped through it.
Malvic
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