Laquatas then wrapped the blade in a dark cloth and set the spear aside. After closing and stowing his satchel, the mer donned a dark cloak, flipped the hood up over his horns, so they wouldn't glisten in the firelight, grabbed the spear, and headed out into the Order camp. Laquatas wasn't worried about getting out of the Order camp. None of the guards he met would even remember seeing him. Their minds were simple to manipulate.
No, the trick tonight was getting into the Cabal camp undetected. Laquatas had toyed with the idea of turning invisible or using a water portal, but the mer was certain the Cabal would have wards against such magic. No, he would have to rely on stealth and, possibly, a simple sleep spell. Nothing that would give him away in the morning.
The mer headed out toward the forest, bending the minds of the Order guards he met along the way and then attuning his mind to the forest before he left the protective ring of the night watch.
"No nantuko around," Laquatas said to himself, "and no sign of my shadow either. Good." Laquatas crept through the woods around the clearing, intending to enter the camp from the rear, assuming that the Cabal was more worried about the Order guards than the forest denizens.
About halfway around the camp, Laquatas knew he had made a mistake. He detected the beast above, moving fast toward him. A moment later, the creature landed with a loud thud right beside the mer. Laquatas broke into a run, not even bothering to look back at his assailant.
Not accustomed to running over uneven terrain, the mer bounced off a tree and crashed into a bush. By the time he extracted himself from the thorns, the beast was standing over him. It was just as the corporal had described. No more than five feet tall, the creature wore shabby clothes that hung on him as if made for someone twice his girth. His features were sunken, his ash-gray skin pulled tight across his chin and cheek bones.
But what riveted Laquatas to the spot were the beast's eyes. They glowed red, not bright like the flames of a torchlight, but deep maroon, like pools of blood reflecting a torch. But Laquatas was nothing if not a survivor, and he knew the path to death lie through those eyes. He ripped his gaze away from the beast and pulled the cloth off his spear.
As the beast howled and lunged at the mer, Laquatas jammed the spear into the creature's gut, twisting it as it plunged through the leathery skin. The beast came on still, undaunted by the killing blow to its torso or the venom on the blade. Laquatas pushed on the spear with all his strength, turning the creature's charge to the side. Getting his feet under him, Laquatas ran directly toward the camp, fearing for his life with every step, certain he could hear the beast's footsteps behind but afraid to look back.
Laquatas finally crashed into the clearing, nearly toppling forward as the dense, uneven forest gave way to the trampled moss. After a few final staggering steps, Laquatas came to a stop, rested his hands on his knees, dropped his head down, and gasped for air.
"Problems, Ambassador?" asked a familiar voice.
Laquatas looked up to see Traybor and several other Cabal mages lined up in front of him. Taking a couple deep breaths, the mer stood up, straightened his cloak, and struck a more dignified pose.
"Excuse me, Master Traybor" he asked.
"An odd time to be taking a stroll through the forest, Ambassador," said Traybor. "Many dangers lurk out there."
Traybor was looking right at the spear still in the mer's hand. Laquatas glanced at the weapon, seeing the venom paste quite visible on the blade along with a sickly green goo that dripped from the bottom of the blade onto his gloved hand.
"I was awoken by a premonition of danger," began Laquatas, tearing his eyes away from the blade to look at Traybor. "The beast was coming for you, so I made my way into the forest to try to stop him. As you can see I struck the beast with this blade, but it hardly slowed him down. I was lucky to escape with my life. He's out there right now. Come with me, Traybor. I'm sure together we can kill the beast."
Laquatas doubted his ploy to get Traybor alone in the forest would work, but by the end of his story, his confidence had returned, and sometimes a bold move paid off.
Not this time.
"No thank you, Ambassador," said Traybor, folding his arms as he regarded Laquatas through his narrow eyes. "We'll handle the beast in our own way."
The mer wasn't sure, but he could swear he saw Traybor's eyes flash black, which he knew was a precursor to the summoner's dementia magic. Laquatas decided not to press his luck against the throng of powerful, yet unbalanced, summoners. There would come a better time for disposing of Traybor and his brood.
"Well, good night then," said Laquatas as he turned and headed back toward the Order side of the clearing. He wasn't sure if he'd gotten away with his lies or not and wanted very much to probe the mind of one of the lesser Cabal mages, but he didn't dare do it out in the open.
He got his answer when he stepped into his tent. There, in ten-inch-tall, inky black letters that hung in the air over his cot, dripping on his wool blanket, Laquatas read: POISON ONLY WORKS ON THE LIVING, AMBASSADOR.
Laquatas dropped the spear on the floor and rushed back out into the camp, but he was already too late. Half of the clearing was completely empty. The Cabal forces had vanished.
CHAPTER 25
Kamahl crouched in the tree, clutching the branch with his fingers and his toes. He'd abandoned his boots the day before, desiring more direct contact with the wood as he ran along limbs and swung from tree to tree on his journey toward the center off the forest. Below him, six nantuko moved swiftly and silently southward, never noticing the motionless, dirt-and-moss covered barbarian above them.
It was the third patrol he'd seen heading south in the past two days. Kamahl knew his pursuers had entered the forest, that Laquatas was coming for him and for the Mirari. But Kamahl knew how to avoid the nantuko, and he knew that the mer was no match for the forest warriors. For the first time since he'd laid eyes on the Mirari, Kamahl was not worried about Laquatas.
Kamahl remained motionless on his limb well after the nantuko patrol passed by, waiting for the other animals to return. Their senses were still far keener than his, and he had learned from experience over the last two days that it was not necessarily safe to move until the other animals returned.
Twice, nantuko raiding parties had double-backed and spotted him when he moved. The second time he had remained motionless for an hour. His patience and his muscle control had grown immeasurably during the past few days.
And yet, they had waited just as long. When the barbarian released his hold on the branch and fell to the forest floor, the raiders were on him in an instant, slashing at him with their razor-edged forearms and cutting him off as he tried to retreat. In that battle, Kamahl had been forced to disable two nantuko, breaking all four legs on one beast with a vicious leg sweep and dislocating the shoulders of another when the nantuko warrior struggled against the vines Kamahl had summoned to entangle the creature.
After that battle, Kamahl realized he could not sense danger as well as small prey could. Each time the nantuko attacked, the barbarian now realized, the forest went quiet, and it was not until he was completely out of danger that he would begin to notice life returning around him-the chittering of squirrels, the buzzing of insects, the songs of birds. He then decided to wait until the sounds of the forest awoke before continuing his quest.