Bloodwalk - James P. Davis [95]
"So beautiful he is. We must keep him, my sisters."
The grove grew darker as the plants and bushes closed together, sealing the clearing from the forest. The voices sighed in contentment as they viewed their catch. Aellspath smiled coyly and bit her lower lip with sharpened teeth as she reached out for the aasimar's arm.
Quin's breath was ragged and shallow, and he was only dimly aware of Bedlam's ponderous weight in his right hand.
Aellspath hissed pleasurably as she scraped her clawed fingertips across Quin's shoulder guard and down to his gauntlet. Her fingers crept casually toward his wrist to gently remove the glowing blue-green sword from his clenched fist. As she gently pried at his fingers, an errant claw brushed Bedlam's hilt, eliciting a hissing reply from the arcane weapon.
The dryads' enchanting song faltered as Aellspath gasped and recoiled from the sword. Quinsareth blinked, exhaling, as warmth flooded his paralyzed form. His vision was blurry but his will to live became razor sharp. He swung Bedlam wildly in front of him, cursing as the hazy form of the dryad ducked and scuttled backward on spindly, emaciated arms and legs.
The dirt beneath him shook and he rolled forward instinctively, swinging Bedlam behind him at a clawlike root that snatched at his cloak. The blade hissed, mimicking the dryads' voices as it sliced through the pale wood, leaving a smooth stump that oozed a thick red sap. The voice called Myrrium howled in agony from the trees above and she crashed through the branches toward the near-blind aasimar.
Quin rolled again, barely missing the screeching Myrrium as she landed. He continued to blink, rubbing his eyes with his free hand and gradually clearing more of his vision. Holding Bedlam before him, he studied his attackers, fiendish orphans of the Qurth Forest. The Fate Fall hovered in his mind, a ghostly sense of strategy collecting his thoughts.
Myrrium's eyes burned a dark yellow, no longer hidden behind the guise of sweet blossoms as Aellspath had done. Her face and skin were grained and knotted like the wood of the trees she lived in, a pale ash-gray. Tiny white fangs protruded from black gums as she crawled closer, favoring her left shoulder where a small wound had opened, bleeding the same thick red sap the root had.
Quin backed away slowly, waiting for the dryad to spring forward. He felt the roots of another oak behind him. Myrrium hummed as she crawled. The sweet tones of her song tried to calm his nerves, urging him to lay down his weapon and be as among friends. Shaking his head, fending off the dryad's spell to charm him, he lashed out, hacking at the trunk of the oak behind him. Myrrium winced as that oak began to bleed, halting her spell as Oerryn screamed in pain and appeared above Quinsareth.
He heard claws scratching against wood and glanced upward, catching only a brief glimpse of long black hair made of vines shading the orange light of fiendish eyes. He leaped sideways to avoid Myrrium's sudden charge. Both dryads stalked him, gnashing their teeth and tearing small ruts in the ground where their long claws touched. They continued their song, though its notes were harsher now, more insistent. Bedlam matched the sound discordantly, which helped Quin resist its call.
He backed away and the dryads herded him toward the middle tree. Though he considered turning the tables and attacking, he could not locate their absent sister. Aellspath had disappeared in the confusion.
Closer and closer he edged toward Aellspath's tree. The dryads' wounds bled freely, as did the tree and the root protruding from the ground. He was familiar with the fey creatures and their connection to the oaks in which they lived, though he'd never faced the creatures in battle. He raised Bedlam again, threatening the nearest oak. The sisters tensed, looking for Aellspath to come to her own defense. Quin raised an eyebrow at their reaction, flashing them his feral smile and preparing to strike.
Aellspath swam through the wood, flying through the bark and barreling into