Red Magic - Jean Rabe [77]
The druid soon found himself at the forefront of the assembled merchants, and like the other onlookers, he stared slack-jawed at the creature. Four arrows were lodged deeply in the grotesque beast's underside. Obviously dying, it flapped its monstrous wings weakly, raising a small cloud of dust.
A child screamed as the creature's skin began to bubble and pop, boiling away like water. The wings quivered and beat faster as they shriveled and were drawn into the rapidly diminishing form of the beast. The crowd backed up, yet none turned away, engrossed with the vile tableau.
Finally the creature's leathery skin began to recede, revealing the silky, blood-soaked fur of a large weasel. The animal lifted its head, a stream of blood trickling out of its mouth, then it twitched once more and died. The crowd lingered, each lost in his own thoughts, wondering precisely what it was he had seen. At last the guards from the barbicon made their way into the tent town to disperse the throng.
One guard stooped over, picked up the body of the weasel, and turned to carry it inside the city. The guards ignored the shouted questions from the crowd. Disgruntled that they would get no information from the guards, the crowd began to break up and return to their tents.
Galvin found Wynter and Brenna near the gate. "I-I saw it, Galvin," the sorceress said evenly. "Before it hit the ground, I saw it. It was like the thing that attacked us in Aglarond. Do you think someone knows we're here?" Brenna glanced about nervously.
"I don't think so," Galvin whispered, noting that a few of the merchants who had returned to their camps next to the gate were staring at the trio. The druid strolled toward their own makeshift camp. Brenna and Wynter followed. "I think it would have gone straight after us if it was meant for us."
"That makes sense," Wynter agreed. "We were on the edge of the tent town and would have made easy targets."
"I hope you're right," Brenna said. She shivered, more from fear than the cool night air, and continued to glance behind her occasionally toward the gate.
The druid paused to wrap his cloak around her shoulders. As he did, he noticed that the tent town had resumed its former appearance, just as if nothing had happened. He shrugged and continued striding toward their camp. Galvin wondered if attacks such as this were commonplace here. It could explain the merchants' nonchalant bearing in the aftermath of the attack.
"The dwarves!" Wynter shouted suddenly, trotting to the edge of the tent town. "They're gone!"
The former slaves had left their ropes behind and left the Harpers' possessions untouched. The druid knelt on the ground beside a footprint left by one of the dwarves, then glanced to the north.
"They went toward those trees," the druid observed.
"Thay's not a safe place to be at night," Wynter said nervously.
"Nothing's safe for those dwarves," Galvin concluded. "We were going to free them anyway." The druid rose and brushed the dirt off his knees. Before he had taken a handful of steps toward his belongings, a cry pierced the night air.
"Jujus!" a woman screamed."Juju zombies! Szass Tam's undead will kill us all!"
Once again the tent town leapt to life as the cry of "stiff-walkers" passed like a crashing wave from the outer rim of tents to the city gates. The Harpers determined from the people's cries that Szass Tam was behind the attack and that the "stiff-walkers," or undead, were the shadowy creatures they could make out shuffling toward the tent town.
The people on the outer edge of the tent town, including Brenna, Wynter, and Galvin, were the first to react. The night-cloaked figures had already come upon some of the campers there, silently lifting their blankets and awkwardly prodding through their tents and lean-tos. It was obvious the