The Gates of Night_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [73]
The thorns advanced through the forest, moving slowly and carefully. Now one stepped into the moonlight. The little man had rough green skin, and a layer of pine needles in place of hair. Its torso was covered by a jerkin made from large, leatherlike leaves. Pierce idly wondered if this was clothing, or if the leaves were a part of the creature’s skin. Its weapon was a thorn, a long thorn from some enormous plant, which the creature held as if it was a rapier. The little man’s eyes were dark and shiny, like little beetles—and they fixed directly on Pierce.
Calculations flashed through Pierce’s mind.
Distance to the foe.
The capabilities of Daine’s dagger.
Could Pierce reach the thorn and cut its throat before the creature could alert its allies? No.
Pierce wasn’t even certain that his weapon could hurt the thorn, or what its weaknesses were. Though human in appearance, its anatomy could be very different. More important, if Pierce abandoned his position he was both disobeying orders and leaving Lei vulnerable. He faced the creature, dagger ready, waiting for the thorn to close.
The green man moved forward, thorn-sword lowered. Then, just before it came within Pierce’s reach, it shifted its path and slipped past the group. Now there were thorns all around them, at least a dozen of the little creatures, but not one paid any mind to Pierce or his companions. The thorns kept moving through the forest. The storm lashed the trees, the wind howled, but within moments the thorns had moved on.
Lei caught his attention with a gesture. Follow. Her fingers flickered, using more complex signals difficult to catch in the dim light of night, but Pierce’s eyes were keen. Objective close.
Lei walked slowly through the storm-torn forest, bracing herself against the wind, and the trees moved out of her way once more. Moments became minutes as they moved farther through the wood. The storm raged, thorns scuttled through the shadows, but these lesser forces could not match the power of the staff.
Another thorn caught Pierce’s eye. This was the fifth of these creatures he’d had a good look at; the little man was only a few feet away. He was looking at Pierce and the others, but Pierce could tell that the green man couldn’t see him. Still, something was different about this thorn. While the man wasn’t looking directly at him, there was a look of intense concentration on his face. As if he were … listening.
Pierce reached out to grab Lei, but it was too late. The thorn raised a hand, and lightning flared in the sky. The ground exploded behind Pierce, forcing him away from his companions.
The staff stopped singing.
Your protection has fallen. The enemy is aware of your presence.
Movement all around him, thorns emerging from the woods and darting forward. Through his link to Shira, Pierce could feel the positions of his allies, feel them spreading to engage the foes. The thorn beside him kneaded the air with its hands, and as Shira’s knowledge flowed through him Pierce knew that the creature was gathering the power of the storm. Another instant and the lightning would strike again.
Pierce didn’t hesitate. He slammed into the thorn, knocking him to the ground and disrupting the complex spell the creature had been weaving. Before the thorn could react, Pierce drove his dagger into its throat.
A thin trickle of sap oozed from the wound, and the thorn jerked in pain. But it was not so easily felled. Pierce felt its empty hand strike his chestplate. Warmth spread over him, emanating from the point of contact.
Magic! Shira said.
The heat grew with each passing second, and Pierce could smell the rootlike tendrils below his armor starting to burn. No time for mercy or careful consideration. Pierce smashed the thorn to the ground and slashed with his dagger. The heat was overwhelming his senses. Bubbling sap, the feel of green wood beneath his dagger, and the all-consuming heat. It was a horrible blur