Darkwell - Douglas Niles [68]
"What in all the Realms is that?"
He heard Robyn's gasp behind him, and Pawldo shouted in surprise. But his attention remained riveted on the thing that bore down upon him with frightening speed. The horses shrieked and whinnied in terror, turning to bolt along the shore of the tar pit.
At first, he thought it to be a huge bear. Indeed, the broad shape, shaggy coat, and lumbering gait all came from an unmistakably ursine body. But that head! The thing uttered a screeching shriek, like some monstrous bird, and lunged for him with a widespread beak. Its eyes glittered amid a face covered with brown feathers, like the beady orbs of a bloodthirsty hawk.
Canthus lunged past him and bit the creature, whirling away before the owlish bear could land a return blow. The moorhound dove and ducked, barking and snarling, but the creature continued to advance on the companions with deadly purpose.
The king's astonishment slowed his hand a bit, or perhaps he underestimated the tremendous speed of the monster. He slashed his blade at the last minute and felt the steel bite into the thing's shoulder. His sword tingled in his hand, joyously cutting into the obscene flesh. But then a massive paw struck him full on the chest. The silver chain mail absorbed the force of the blow, but he still flew twenty feet through the air before landing in a stunned heap. The Sword of Cymrych Hugh fell, still gleaming, some distance away.
The monster spun with another screech and leaped toward the king. Suddenly it turned to the side as Tavish darted forward. She brandished her shortsword awkwardly, as if she wielded a giant fork. Tristan groaned and tried to sit up, fearing desperately for Tavish, but the monster again moved too quickly. It reared onto its hind feet, towering over the bard, and lunged toward her.
The firbolg, growling and grunting in his crude tongue, sprinted with amazing agility to the bard's side. The giant bashed one hamlike fist into the monster's snout, momentarily knocking it backward, and Tavish dodged out of the way. The bear returned the blow and the firbolg fell, kicking a huge foot into the monster's belly even as he crashed to the ground. The creature dropped to all fours and prepared to spring upon the prone giant.
Once again Canthus closed, sinking his fangs into the owlbear"s haunch. The dog sprang away in the split second before the blow that would have crushed his body struck.
Shaking his head, his vision still blurred, Tristan sprang to his feet and scrambled to retrieve his sword. "Hey! Over here!" he cried, and the monster turned to regard him with those wickedly gleaming eyes. At the same time, the owlbear swiveled quickly, swiping at something in the air behind him. For a moment, Newt popped into sight, darting at the monster's rear end. But in the next instant, the faerie dragon again disappeared, and the monster turned back toward Tristan.
This time the king was ready. He dropped into a fighting crouch and approached the beast, relieved to see it turn its attention back to him. He noticed several tiny arrows bristling from its shoulders. Obviously Pawldo and Yazilliclick had found the range, though the tiny weapons could do little to slow the monster.
He feinted a thrust, and the owlbear reared back. Good… it had learned to fear the blade. Then it lunged forward. Tristan stabbed desperately, feeling the sword sink into the creature's massive chest, and then another powerful blow from a paw sent him reeling. The king did not fall, but he felt hot streaks of blood flowing down his left arm.
Robyn watched helplessly. Her staff offered little hope of harming the beast, and Daryth's scimitar remained lashed to her saddle on the fleeing mare. Unlike a sorcerer, the druid knew no spell that would smite the thing with a ball of fire or singeing magical arrow. Suddenly, however, she had an idea.
"Newt, come here! Quickly!" she called, and the faerie dragon instantly popped into sight before her.