Murder in Cormyr - Chet Williamson [84]
And then I felt a clout on the side of that selfsame head that jerked my gaze away, breaking the bonds that held me to the dead thing. "Run!" shouted Benelaius. "Now!"
I did as my master ordered. I ran, knowing from his past teachings that what followed us was not truly Fastred's ghost. That we had seen the night before, while this was only some wandering evil spirit that had entered his bones in order to wreak havoc among the living. Still, that knowledge was cold comfort as we squished our way along the trail, having to watch every step and yet move as quickly as we could. A single misstep would bring disaster, for the sound of rattling bones drew ever nearer.
"Master," I panted, "wouldn't it be… a good idea… to work… a spell?"
He moved fast for a stout man, and I was amazed that he was able to speak without panting. "As you know, I would prefer to avoid using magic, Jasper."
"We may not… have that choice… master," I replied, feeling a hot burning creeping up my sides as I ran.
"Just a bit farther," he said, beginning to sound winded himself. "Make sure you do… whatever I do."
I grunted in affirmation and pressed on, not daring to look over my shoulder. I had no idea where we were, or how far we had to go to get to solid land, or even if that would do us any good.
What I did know was that we had no chance of outdistancing the evil thing behind us. The clattering was growing louder and closer, and suddenly I felt something sharp like the point of a spear rake across my back, tearing my cloak and my shirt and the flesh beneath.
The pain spurred me on, but I knew I couldn't last much longer. Skeletal fingers plucked again at my back, and I nearly fell, when Benelaius suddenly shrieked at the top of his lungs. When I looked, I saw that he was diving belly-first onto the swampy ground.
Make sure you do whatever I do.
And I dove, too, just sliding under the barrage of thorns that whizzed through the air toward us.
Benelaius had shouted to alarm the thornslinger, and that deadly tree had launched dozens of its lethal missiles in our direction. We struck the earth just in time, but the living horror that inhabited Fastred's bones was not so lucky.
I rolled when I hit the mud, and saw the thorns take the monster. They pierced the ancient armor, splintered the brittle bones, and shattered the yellow, moldering skull into four pieces that flew in separate directions as the split helm rolled to a stop by my feet.
In seconds, what had been a running nightmare became a pile of harmless rubble, spread out over a wide area. Most of the bones sank quickly into the mire, but a large chunk of rib cage landed over a dead log, where it moved for a long time, the ribs twitching like separate fingers.
At last I looked slowly at Benelaius, who smiled, put a finger to his lips, and said, so softly that I could barely hear, "Shhh…"
We got to our feet, and I picked up the helm. Then we walked slowly and carefully out of the thornslinger's range toward the road and safety. When we were a hundred yards away from the final resting place of Fastred's bones, Benelaius turned back toward me. "All right, then," he said with a great sigh, "now Fastred's haunting of the swamp is at an end."
"Better late than never," I said with a smile. "What was that thing, anyway? A wandering spirit?"
"I imagine so. A good lesson for us. Always leave tomb doors closed. You never know what might come in and possess your corpse." I made a mental note of it. Then Benelaius glanced at the ruined helm in my hand. "A souvenir?"
"Yes, I thought."
"That's fine… as long as whatever might be left of Fastred doesn't want it back."
I thought for a moment, then tossed the helm on a muddy rise and didn't