Windwalker - Elaine Cunningham [98]
Suddenly the creatures exploded into a gibbering chorus. Lofting small, dark knives, they hurled themselves into a running charge.
Fyodor batted aside the swiftest two, using the flat of his blade to lift them off their feet and hurl them aside. He spun to meet the next onslaught, carefully using his sword as a bludgeon to beat them back without killing them.
The drow had no such scruples. She drew her sword and ran it through the first squealing rat-thing that came at her. Tugging her sword free, she delivered a slashing backstroke that downed another and sent its companion darting back, jabbering in fear.
She stooped and swept up the knives all three of the creatures had dropped. To her surprise, they seemed to be carved of stone, but the edges were keen, the balance good. Liriel tossed all three knives into the air. She caught and hurled them, one after another, into a trio of attacking kobolds.
Another creak cut through the sounds of battle. Liriel glanced back in time to see a large limb sweeping toward her. Her quick glance took in the ropes suspending the projectile, and the huge tree to which they were attached.
A tree that simply hadn't been there a moment before.
Several kobolds stood in the branches, silhouetted against the night sky, hopping about and hooting with delight over their successfully launched trap.
The drow dived to the ground as the suspended limb swept over her. Immediately several of the creatures leaped onto her prone form. The very next instant, two or three of them were swept away, squeaking with surprise and pain, as the log pendulum swung back over them.
They were not very bright, Liriel noted. Not nearly bright enough to have planned any of this.
She bucked and heaved, trying to throw the remaining kobolds off. Fyodor fought his way over and began to peel the little beasts off her.
Finally he pulled her to her feet. She shoved a handful of disheveled hair off her face and took stock of the situation. Several of the kobolds sprawled nearby, senseless or dead, but most of the others had regrouped in a circle. The circle began to move as if following some well-rehearsed choreography, forcing the friends to keep moving in order to keep out of reach of those small sharp knives.
"They're herding us," Fyodor said in disbelief.
"Toward whoever planned this attack," the drow added.
He responded with a single grim nod. "They never gather in such numbers, never attack."
"So let's make their master come to us."
Fyodor flashed her a quick smile and a nod. Together they charged the swarm, swords leading.
The kobolds reverted to nature. Surprised by the sudden attack, they scattered, hooting in alarm. The friends broke through their ranks and kept running.
A keening shriek ripped through the night. Liriel shot a glance back over her shoulder, and her eyes widened in astonishment.
Gibbering in terror, kobolds sprang from the tree. The log still swung from the upper branches, which shuddered as if in a high wind. A ghostly form was pulling itself free, a treelike woman appearing nearly as large as its host.
The creature seized small, hard fruit from the tree and began to pelt the fleeing pair. The kobolds regrouped and roiled after them.
Fyodor seized Liriel's hand and pulled her along. "A thornapple haunt," he panted out. "Very dangerous. I should have remembered the story and checked the forest's edge for such trees."
"Where to?"
He pointed with his sword to the stone tower. "When we get there, I will talk for us both."
As it turned out, neither of them had a chance to talk. The massive wooden door swung open, and wall torches within flared into life. They ran into the tower and threw themselves against the door, pushing back the kobolds that hurled themselves with uncharacteristic determination at the door. Finally they slammed it shut and shot home the iron bolt. Small fists and stone knives clattered against the portal for a moment, then silence abruptly fell.
Before Fyodor could draw breath, a sharp snick above warned him of the coming trap. He