The Queen of Stone_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [90]
But it wasn’t the statue that had silenced the medusa queen. It was the shapes in the darkness beyond, the claws and teeth tearing at flesh and bone. All too late, Thorn realized what the strange scent was.
“Rats,” she said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The Crag’s Shadow
Droaam
Eyre 20, 998 YK
As Sheshka’s words died in her throat, the room came to life. Thorn’s intuition told her of movement in the darkness, of the creatures crawling on the shelves and tables, the huge rats gnawing on the four corpses spread across the floor. She could hear the scrape of claws against wood and stone, the click of tiny teeth, and the chittering voices of the vermin all around them. The stones scattered on the floor proved that the inhabitants of the tower had put up a fight; they’d taken many of the creatures with them. But in the end, the eyes of the medusas were no match for the numbers they had faced.
“Back!” Sheshka hissed. She held her bow in one hand and her sword in the other. “Don’t let them bite you!”
It was too late for that. The rats were already upon them. Thorn killed the first one that leaped toward her with a single stroke of Steel, but ten more followed in its wake. The creatures were all over her, clawing and biting. Each scratch was trivial, but the pain was a distraction. As she scattered the little beasts, something heavy landed on her back, claws digging through the mystical field formed by her bracers. It was one of the larger rats, and its teeth were long and sharp. Thorn hissed in pain as the creature sank its fangs into her shoulder, but she didn’t stop moving. She thrust Steel over her shoulder, simultaneously slamming her back against the nearest wall. The impact pried the rat loose, and she felt her dagger sink into its flesh. Twisting around, she flung the speared beast to the ground.
The rat should have been crippled, if not instantly dead. Instead, it landed on its feet and scampered back toward her. Cursing, Thorn called the myrnaxe forth from her glove. She had only one hand free, and she couldn’t make a true thrust; instead, she let gravity take over. As the rat darted forward, she simply dropped the axe, guiding it as best she could. The spear point slammed through the beast’s back. It screeched and lay still.
Wererats, she thought. Lovely …
“Sheshka!” she shouted. “We need to leave!”
The ordinary rats were all around her; the only mercy was that the sheer numbers of the smaller creatures were keeping the large wererats at bay. Sheathing Steel, Thorn set both hands against the axe and pulled it free from the corpse; the oversized rat was already shifting, transforming into a pale goblin. Next to her, she heard the crash of a stone rat striking the floor, the sound of Sheshka’s sword spilling blood. But this wasn’t a fight they could win.
“Now!” Thorn cried. She swung the axe with all her might, sending rats sprawling across the room. Then she turned and charged out the door, leaping off the ramp and into the air, falling toward the ground below. Thorn spun in midair, twisting to get her feet beneath her; it was a hard landing, but she was standing within a second, searching through the pockets of her cloak.
Sheshka was just behind her, and she leaped from the ramp with the grace of a trained acrobat. A half-dozen rats clung to the medusa’s armor and scales, but her serpents were snapping at the vermin even while Sheshka was falling. Thorn saw a viper sink its fangs into a rat and tear the creature loose. The medusa rolled out from the impact, rising next to Thorn.
“Follow me,” she said, breaking into a run.
It was one thing to outpace a normal rat, but the shape-shifters had speed to match their size. When Thorn glanced back, she could see the massive rats pouring out of the tower, loping across the ground with the speed of hounds. The fugitives had a head start, but it wouldn