Curse Of The Dark Wind (Book 6) (36 page)

Luke spasms with his back arching to the point where only his heels and the back of his head are touching the ground. With his jaws clenched, he flips over and spews gelatinous Dark Wind from his mouth. As if alive, the ooze sloughs into the river and turns the churning rapids black. The living curse around the trees gathers and crashes into the water, thick tendrils beating at the corrupted liquid. The half-elf relaxes as the river is cleansed and the Dark Wind returns to its lazy coiling around the trees.

“I guess the living curses don’t get along,” Delvin whispers, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “Can you walk, Luke?”

“In a manner of speaking,” the half-elf answers as he stands with Sari’s help. “I won’t be moving very quickly, but my legs work. It was like a great fear and sorrow took over, which gave the Dark Wind an opening to try and consume me.”

“Why did it leave you?” Timoran asks.

“All I felt was panic. I need time to think on it, which we don’t have. Let’s get to the castle and find a place to rest.”

Delvin is about to agree when Nyx nearly collapses and he swiftly catches her. The warrior notices that she is making sickening coughs and her throat keeps gulping for air. “You’re really pale and I can tell you’re trying to hold back your nausea. This isn’t the place to lose our most powerful weapon. Do you want one of us to carry you?”

“Weapon?” Nyx growls, pushing him away. She immediately regrets the sudden movement and bends forward as the forest spins. “I’ll be fine. Just hand me some water and ignore any horrible noises that come from my direction.”

“No time!” Fizzle exclaims, taking flight and zipping around his friends. “Fizzle see trouble! Fizzle no want this trouble again! Run and come back!”

“What in Cessia’s name is that?” Sari says in a numb voice.

Following the gypsy’s gaze, everyone sees a dense swarm rise out of the trees and twist in the sky. The tiny figures unleash a chorus of chitters and hisses as they get closer to the champions. Passing overhead, the creatures are clearly seen as emaciated sprites with tiny spears. A rain of foamy drool melts the snow from the treetops and leaves steaming puddles on the forest floor. Remaining cautious of the armed adventurers and the nimble drite, the swarm makes a wide turn over the Garden to come back around.

“Fizzle fight bad sprites before. Fizzle no like. Fizzle want retreat.”

“We won’t even come close to the entrance before they’re on us,” Delvin announces, backing away from the incoming fae. “Make a run along the river and don’t look back. Sari can use the water to fend the sprites off if they get too close. At the very least, we’ll break them into smaller groups.”

“I suggest we run quickly,” Timoran says when he hears an eerie shuffling from the forest behind him. “The sprites are not our only problem. There is something else coming after us through the trees.”

A choked noise comes from Luke, who notices the other creatures before his friends. With the shattering of branches, the leather-winged spiders burst from the treetops and attack the sprites. Legs curled against their abdomens, the mottled creatures soar through the swarm and devour the corrupted fae. Some of the predators release streams of ivory web from their spindles to snare their prey and loop around to inhale what they have caught. Their throats bulge and throb from the struggling sprites that are slowly digested. With most of the tiny creatures eaten, the flying spiders turn their attention to the adventurers.

Luke’s legs refuse to move as the arachnids pass overhead, the predators staying out of reach of the warriors. His knuckles are white as he grips his sabers and he tries to urge his paralyzed body into action. He feels the heat from Nyx’s fireballs, which miss their targets and sputter above the trees. The screams of his friends barely register in his head as black sweat drips from his pores. A shiver runs through his muscles every time one of the spiders flies close enough for him to get a clear look at its sapphire eyes. Luke fails to move even when he hears the muffled shriek of Sari, her face and hands entombed by globs of webbing.

“How many of them are there?” Delvin asks, sidestepping an incoming tether.

“I do not believe it matters,” Timoran replies as he tries to free Sari. Using one of her fallen daggers, he carefully cuts a hole for her to breathe through and tries to saw through the bonds on her hands. “The spiders are going to gradually bind us, but Nyx’s attempts are keeping them at bay. They will eventually realize that her aim is hampered and attack with full strength.”

“I’ll get Nyx and you carry Sari and Fizzle,” the brown-haired warrior orders. He sheathes his blade and rushes to grab the dizzy caster, ignoring her scowl. “Snap out of it and follow us, Callindor!”

The adventurers only make it a few steps before the spiders block them in with a wall of thick webbing. Another barrier is created on their other side, cutting them off from escape and Luke. The spiders ignore the frozen forest tracker and focus on their moving prey, several of them landing on the webs. When Nyx’s hands erupt in flames, the creatures turn around and spray her with webbing. The first few strands are incinerated by her magic, but several avoid the fire and stick her to Delvin. With the warrior unable to get away, the caster is unable to use her full power without risking his life.

“These spiders are smart,” she growls, her face stuck to her friend’s shoulder. “They know I can’t cut loose if I’m connected to you.”

“Give it a try,” he insists as webbing sticks Timoran’s feet to the ground.

“My head is still swimming, so I don’t want to risk it. We need Luke to save us.”

“He’s broken and sick. I don’t want to lose faith in him, but he’s pushed himself too far. You saw the look on his face, Nyx. He’s pushed beyond his limits.”

“I refuse to give up on him,” she argues with fire flickering along two of her three unstuck fingers. She takes a deep breath and focuses her magic to amplify her voice. “Get your head together and save us, little brother! Stop being an idiot and crush these spiders! Do you want me to get eaten? What about Sari and Fizzle? Be a damn hero!”

The winged spiders creep down the webs, their mouths dripping with sprite blood and black ooze. They are nearly within reach of the adventurers when a roaring screech echoes throughout the Garden. A large form tears through the barriers and all of the spiders take flight. Furious and hungry, the crazed griffin chases the panicking creatures. Black-veined feathers drift to the ground as she chases her prey through the sky and rips them apart. Web strands latch onto her body and the spiders try to drag the beast into the forest. With a violent spiral, the griffin snaps the strands and soars high above the Garden. Hovering over the forest, she looks decrepit with her matted fur and rapidly molting wings. Her chest puffs out as she takes an awkward breath and watches the winged spiders retreat.

“Why is she staying up there?” Nyx asks as she carefully burns the webs off herself and Delvin. “The fight’s over.”

“I don’t think she realizes that,” the warrior answers, his voice full of worry.

The griffin unleashes a roaring screech and races after the surviving winged spiders. Her body becomes a brown blur against the clouds as she slashes them out of the sky. When the final arachnid is nothing more than a plummeting corpse, she slows down and drifts aimlessly above the forest. She disappears behind the distant trees and a mournful cry is the last anyone hears from her before a crunching thud.

*****

Timoran grunts as he pulls himself up to the top of the structure made of mud and uprooted trees. He turns to help his friends and is surprised to find them swiftly climbing the towering pile, the others having had trouble keeping up with him during their jog through the disturbingly empty forest. Once everyone is on solid ground, the barbarian turns around and nearly walks off the edge of the strange ledge. Before him is an uneven expanse of layered trees, stolen bales of straw, large bones, and giant feathers. Strange structures with flat tops are scattered about the area, each one topped with a thick collection of moist pine needles.

“It’s a huge nest,” Sari says as she looks for signs of Luke. She sees a prone form partially buried in an exploded pile of hay. “I think I see him!”

“Do not run ahead,” Timoran warns the gypsy.

She ignores him and leaps off the ledge, depending on her boots to help her drift to the ground. The others climb down and make better time than Sari, which causes her to land with a childish pout. Her expression changes to bug-eyed fear when the fragile wood beneath her feet snaps. As she falls through the nest, the gypsy grabs a tree root and winces when she feels jagged branches scratch her knees.

“I told you to be careful,” Timoran says as he hoists his friend out of the hole. He stares into the darkness and swears that he saw something move. “There are creatures in here. Not only the birds that made this, but others that are not winged. We must retrieve Luke and tread carefully. I do not know how we can avoid the fragile parts of the nest.”

“Fizzle see pattern,” the drite declares from above his friends. “Thick trees make paths through soft spots. Look like bee home.”

“Guess it’s a single line march to the other side,” Delvin sighs, drawing his blade and leading the way. He keeps his shield arm relaxed, the warrior ready to defend either side of the walkway. “The weaker spots might be strong on the edges, so we might have a little more space than we think. I still wouldn’t recommend straying more than a step off the path and only if you have to. Anybody know what would make a nest so big?”

“Could have been the winged spiders,” Nyx suggests, rubbing her amethyst necklace. She keeps a glove of force around her other hand, knowing fire and lightning could turn the nest into an inferno. “It could be something worse too. My head and stomach are much better, so I can handle the fighting this time. The rest of you should run for the castle.”

“I don’t see us running very well here,” Sari mentions from the rear of the group.

“You know what I mean.”

Delvin holds up his sword when he sees part of the nest rise and fall as if something is passing just beneath the surface. The sound of a creature scuttling under their feet silences everyone and they quietly follow the cautious warrior. Glancing ahead, he notices that Luke is stumbling to his feet and trying to figure out where he landed. Delvin tries in vain to signal to the half-elf, who is clutching his sabers and standing in a daze. With a muttered curse, the brown-haired warrior breaks into a jog and continues waving his longsword. As his pace increases, noises from the hidden creatures appear from both sides of the path and a few areas around Luke that are shifting like a churning ocean. The movements and sounds abruptly stop, which makes everyone accept that they are about to be attacked.

“What’s going on?” Luke asks in a low voice when his friends get within a few yards of him. “I’m not sure how I got here.”

“Don’t move or raise your voice,” Delvin whispers as he inches closer to the half-elf. “I think we’re surrounded by burrowing creatures. This is a large nest with unstable ground. You landed here after turning into the griffin. Our plan is to cross this place and get into the castle without incident.”

“Nothing ever happens to us without incident,” the forest tracker half-heartedly points out. He holds back a cough and spurts black ooze from his pursed lips. “That transformation really messed with my insides. It’s like my body is sluggish and energized at the same time. Makes it impossible to focus my senses.”

“Stay between me and Nyx,” Delvin says, helping Luke get into position. He nods to Sari, who draws her daggers and walks backwards. “Let us protect you if something happens.”

Several silent minutes pass before the scuttling returns and the nest bloats with hidden activity. The first creature emerges to the right, its mouth chewing through the branches with ease. The dark red mite is the size of a large dog with a smooth body and legs that end in long needles. It jumps over the adventurers and pounds its solid rear against the nest, which signals hundreds of creatures to burrow to the surface. Within seconds, the small group is surrounded by the hungry arachnids.

A new sound begins as a low rumble and rolls into a clear, guttural growl. The other champions watch Timoran, whose blue eyes are shimmering with unleashed rage. He throws his head back and roars with all his might, his voice echoing throughout the Garden. Terrified by the display and primal fury, the mites burrow back into the nest. With a deep breath, the barbarian relaxes and rubs a small knot out of his shoulders.

“You could have done that to the winged spiders,” Nyx says, her arms crossed as she stares at the redheaded warrior. “Why do we have to bother with some of our fights if you can scare them away with a roar?”

“Because I enjoy fighting.”

Sari sheathes her daggers and slips by the others to stand near Luke. “Then why scare the mites off?”

“They were not worth my energy. I am also bored with fighting swarms of creatures today. If it was tomorrow, I would have happily taken my axe to them.”

“You know, there are times I forget you’re a barbarian and then you do something like this,” Delvin claims as he walks ahead. He is about to sheath his longsword when he sees something moving over a distant hill. “We might not be out of danger yet. Keep your weapons out and stay alert.”

Trudging after the warrior, everyone feels a sense of resignation instead of tension. Fight after fight within such a short time and the stress of worrying about Luke has pushed their nerves to a state of numbness. Those carrying weapons flex their stiffening fingers, but all of them hope they will get some rest before their next encounter. Their positive thoughts are dashed when they climb to the top of a rise and come to a halt above a large eagle. Weapons are readied and sighs drift from their mouths before Luke sheathes his sabers.

“He’s dying, guys,” the half-elf states, scratching his head and making his way down to the gasping roc. “He can barely move, so it’s safe to approach. Just avoid sudden movements and sheathe your weapons. No fire, Nyx.”