Trying to dispel such thoughts, Idaria shook her head, focusing on her surroundings. The forest was darker than the night should have permitted; indeed, Stefan had informed her from the beginning that it did not matter whether they passed through it in the day or night. The forest would work against them either way. She took that to mean that the shadows would have enshrouded the trio even in the midst of a sun-filled noon.
But the shadows were the least of her concern. Leaning close to Stefan, she murmured, “I could swear that the trees are closing in on us.”
“I believe they’re trying,” he replied in just as subdued a voice.
“You have noticed that too?”
“Shortly after we entered. I think they sense intruders and aren’t sure about us.”
“Then the Titans must know that we are here!”
Stefan shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.” He held up the medallion upon which the mark of Kiri-Jolith was engraved. The medallion offered a faint, silver glow that was visible for only a foot or two, yet it gave off warmth. “I would know if that was the case.”
Idaria accepted his word, but Chasm, guarding the rear, grunted in distrust. An elemental creature, the gargoyle believed in two things only: his master and his strength, and the former was not accompanying them.
“Should go in front,” the winged creature muttered not for the first time. “Protect elf.”
Idaria had become the most important person to Chasm other than Tyranos. She treated him as no other did, with a respect that likely even the wizard did not demonstrate. That respect was probably the main reason Chasm had agreed to the change in plans, for which Idaria was grateful. She suspected that Stefan could have taken her from the gargoyle if she had demanded to go with him, but to do so would have made her feel even worse than she did about betraying Golgren.
He is an ogre, whatever his mother was, she tried again to remind herself. Her original reason for willingly becoming his slave had been muddled over time, and she had acted as the pawn of the gargoyle king, it was true. Even more important, though, over her time with the half-breed, Idaria had witnessed enough of Golgren’s attempts to raise up his people to see the love and care he had for them and the care he also displayed toward her.
It gave her a headache to try and sort it all out. All that should have mattered was freeing the slaves and yet-
The leaves rustled, yet there was no wind.
Stefan raised his hand, silently calling for a halt.
Something moved in the shadows ahead. It was tall and had an odd gait, as if in part dragging itself along. A scent that evoked images of a moldering grave filled the air. The knight went into a battle stance while Chasm flexed his claws. Idaria prepared to do whatever she could to help them fight.
Then her sharp eyes picked up another figure moving from the right, and behind it was a third and a fourth. The elf quickly looked around.
They were being surrounded.
She tapped Stefan’s shoulder. He nodded, understanding her warning.
“Stay between Chasm and myself,” Stefan whispered.
The leaves continued to rustle, almost as if urging the newcomers forward with whispers. Idaria counted at least a dozen and knew that there were probably at least twice that number.
The first stepped near enough to enable them to see it better.
Idaria stifled a gasp.
It was an ogre … or, rather, the skeleton of an ogre. There was no flesh, no muscle, merely bone. Some tattered garments remained; a few bits of hair clung to the skull. That was all. Its jaw hung slackly, almost as if the monstrosity were trying to speak.
In its bony hand it gripped a rusted but very serviceable axe.
The eyes were empty sockets, yet the skeleton peered around as though searching for something else besides them. Some of the others neared. They were identical to the first, save for their weapons. Some held axes; others, clubs, swords, or spears.
And they all intently scanned the general vicinity in which the trio was trapped, which made Idaria suddenly realize that none of the undead knew that the three were actually there.
Stefan leaned close. “The medallion is shielding us from their knowledge, but the magic of the forest is strong enough to tell them something is not quite right. We must continue to stand still.”
They had little choice. The macabre sentries had them ringed. It was possible that the stealthy Idaria might be able to slip past them, but the other two would not be as fortunate.
One of the ghoulish figures stepped nearer. It passed where Stefan stood and bent forward just before Idaria. The elf sensed Chasm starting to move and ever so slightly shook her head to warn him away.
The movement appeared to catch the skeleton’s attention. It tipped its skull to the side and bent closer. The empty eye sockets came within inches of her face. The jaw slowly swung back and forth. So near, Idaria felt an intense cold radiating from the fiend, a cold with which she, as a slave, was well familiar. It was the coldness of death, animating their movements.
Despite the horrific threat the skeleton posed, Idaria felt a moment of sympathy. She doubted that the ogre and his comrades had offered themselves up for such ghastly duty.
To her relief, the skeleton pulled back. It rejoined the others and after tense moments, despite the continued rustling of the leaves, moved on.
Stefan did not signal the other two to continue. The knight remained as still as a statue, and Idaria and Chasm followed suit.
Only the last two skeletons remained in sight. Watching them as they gradually moved on, Idaria prayed they would not turn back. The trees rustled harder and harder, as if trying to urge the skeletons not to make a mistake, to return.
The final ghoul melted into the darkness. Stefan waited a few breaths longer then pointed ahead. He took a step.
Idaria also took one. As her foot settled, she almost expected the monstrous patrol to come rushing back to slay them. Yet other than the incessant shaking of the tree branches, nothing happened.
Breathing easier, the elf picked up her pace to catch up with Stefan. Behind her, the gargoyle loped along, sometimes on his two legs, sometimes using his other two limbs as well.
Above them, the rustling grew almost thunderous.
Something darted across her path.
Idaria took it for a serpent at first, but it seemed to have no end to its long body. It sprouted from the ground, ran a distance, then bored into the earth again.
She paused to peer at it and finally realized that it was only an upturned root. Thinking no more about it, the elf straightened.
Her sharp eyes noticed that the ground was suddenly filled with twisting, upturned roots.
“Stefan-”
The knight turned to her. As he did, he stepped on one of the roots.
The end of the root shot out of the ground and coiled around his ankle. With a startled grunt, Stefan fell back.
Idaria sought to reach him, only to trip over another root. It wrapped around her foot, sending her down on one knee. In the process, that knee touched another root, which then proceeded to wrap around her upper leg.
“The roots!” she warned. “The forest could not locate us, so it set out snares that would attack when touched!”
Understanding her warning, Chasm immediately took to the air but collided with long, tapering branches that were sweeping down from above. At first, the gargoyle shoved them aside, but then, despite his best efforts, he became entangled. The forest had taken into account the possibility of visitors who could fly. The branches tightened around the struggling gargoyle.