hearts.
These were enemies worth killing. They were like the enemies in the old days of the Shadow Arena, strong and alive, brought in fresh every day to fight and die.
But these enemies were not fighting. They were running. Running into the hills that stank like the long-dead meat the vraal ate only when it was starving.
The vraal’s nose was keen and delicate. It disliked vile smells as much as any human. It also knew that its hoofs, well fitted for almost every other surface, would not serve it well on the loose, crumbling mounds. But ithesitated only for a split second before bounding forward into the muck.
Its enemies could only hide for so long. In the end, it would find them. Soon it would be light, and the building that hunched beside the vile hills—the building that belched fire—offered no refuge. The vraal knew from experience that humans would rather die than enter it.
The cave-dwellers had scattered, burrowing into the mounds until they were invisible. Years of hiding had taught them to go underground immediately when threatened. Barda, Emlis, Lief and Jasmine, however, had not been so quick. And now they could hear the vraal slipping and scrabbling close behind them.
With Jasmine in the lead, they stumbled through the dimness, often sinking knee-deep in vile, oozing waste, trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the beast before they attempted to stop and hide. But the vraal’s sounds were growing louder. Instead of falling behind, it was drawing closer.
Then, suddenly, as they ploughed around the side of a hill, the Factory loomed before them, windowless and grim.
Jasmine has led us the wrong way! Lief thought, panic-stricken. How has this happened? Jasmine has always been able to find her way, even in the dark, and she did not hesitate for a moment. It is as though she
wants
us near the Factory. But that cannot be!
At that moment Emlis caught sight of the Factoryalso, squeaked, missed his footing and slipped, cannoning into Barda.
The big man staggered, his feet digging deeply into the side of the hill. The loose surface began to slide. Then a whole section of the hill broke away. The companions were swept helplessly down with a mass of tumbling refuse to land, shocked and winded, on top of a low mound right beside the roadway.
Half covered, almost overwhelmed by the stench, they lay motionless, terrified to move.
Lief could no longer hear the vraal. Cautiously he cleared mess from his face, slid his eyes sideways, looked up, and saw it. It had climbed to the top of a mound just beyond the one that had collapsed. It was standing motionless, a fearsome silhouette against the paling sky, peering down, searching for signs of movement.
‘I smell ticks!’
Lief’s heart seemed to stop. The slurring voice had come from right beside his ear. He forced himself to turn his head.
A ghastly face was lying close to his own. A white-eyed face that seemed half-melted, its features blurred and twisted. As Lief recoiled in horror, the lopsided mouth grinned hideously and words dribbled from it again.
‘Deltoran ticks! Do you hear me, Carns?’
Lief heard Jasmine’s sharp gasp, Emlis’s high, panic-stricken whimpering, which was quickly muffled, probably by Barda’s hand.
‘Stay still!’ hissed Barda. ‘It cannot hurt us. Do you not see? It is half dead.’
‘Ticks, yes, Carn 2,’ croaked another voice, very near.
‘The Perns claim them!’ This time the voice was bubbling from below Lief’s shoulder blade. ‘The Perns will kill the ticks and please the master. He’ll see we’re good for more years yet.’
Something moved on Lief’s chest. His stomach heaved as he saw that it was a hand, a fumbling hand with bloated fingers overflowing from the arm of a stained grey uniform.
Then, suddenly, there was movement beneath him and all around him, and it was as if his eyes suddenly cleared and he saw for the first time what surrounded him, what lay thick below him.
These were enemies worth killing. They were like the enemies in the old days of the Shadow Arena, strong and alive, brought in fresh every day to fight and die.
But these enemies were not fighting. They were running. Running into the hills that stank like the long-dead meat the vraal ate only when it was starving.
The vraal’s nose was keen and delicate. It disliked vile smells as much as any human. It also knew that its hoofs, well fitted for almost every other surface, would not serve it well on the loose, crumbling mounds. But ithesitated only for a split second before bounding forward into the muck.
Its enemies could only hide for so long. In the end, it would find them. Soon it would be light, and the building that hunched beside the vile hills—the building that belched fire—offered no refuge. The vraal knew from experience that humans would rather die than enter it.
The cave-dwellers had scattered, burrowing into the mounds until they were invisible. Years of hiding had taught them to go underground immediately when threatened. Barda, Emlis, Lief and Jasmine, however, had not been so quick. And now they could hear the vraal slipping and scrabbling close behind them.
With Jasmine in the lead, they stumbled through the dimness, often sinking knee-deep in vile, oozing waste, trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the beast before they attempted to stop and hide. But the vraal’s sounds were growing louder. Instead of falling behind, it was drawing closer.
Then, suddenly, as they ploughed around the side of a hill, the Factory loomed before them, windowless and grim.
Jasmine has led us the wrong way! Lief thought, panic-stricken. How has this happened? Jasmine has always been able to find her way, even in the dark, and she did not hesitate for a moment. It is as though she
wants
us near the Factory. But that cannot be!
At that moment Emlis caught sight of the Factoryalso, squeaked, missed his footing and slipped, cannoning into Barda.
The big man staggered, his feet digging deeply into the side of the hill. The loose surface began to slide. Then a whole section of the hill broke away. The companions were swept helplessly down with a mass of tumbling refuse to land, shocked and winded, on top of a low mound right beside the roadway.
Half covered, almost overwhelmed by the stench, they lay motionless, terrified to move.
Lief could no longer hear the vraal. Cautiously he cleared mess from his face, slid his eyes sideways, looked up, and saw it. It had climbed to the top of a mound just beyond the one that had collapsed. It was standing motionless, a fearsome silhouette against the paling sky, peering down, searching for signs of movement.
‘I smell ticks!’
Lief’s heart seemed to stop. The slurring voice had come from right beside his ear. He forced himself to turn his head.
A ghastly face was lying close to his own. A white-eyed face that seemed half-melted, its features blurred and twisted. As Lief recoiled in horror, the lopsided mouth grinned hideously and words dribbled from it again.
‘Deltoran ticks! Do you hear me, Carns?’
Lief heard Jasmine’s sharp gasp, Emlis’s high, panic-stricken whimpering, which was quickly muffled, probably by Barda’s hand.
‘Stay still!’ hissed Barda. ‘It cannot hurt us. Do you not see? It is half dead.’
‘Ticks, yes, Carn 2,’ croaked another voice, very near.
‘The Perns claim them!’ This time the voice was bubbling from below Lief’s shoulder blade. ‘The Perns will kill the ticks and please the master. He’ll see we’re good for more years yet.’
Something moved on Lief’s chest. His stomach heaved as he saw that it was a hand, a fumbling hand with bloated fingers overflowing from the arm of a stained grey uniform.
Then, suddenly, there was movement beneath him and all around him, and it was as if his eyes suddenly cleared and he saw for the first time what surrounded him, what lay thick below him.
Similar Books
