Chapter Seven: Curiosity and Revelation, Pt 2

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"Are you going to say anything?" Katerin asked, eventually, her patience now worn away by the oppressive repeating sounds of nothing but their horses hooves. They had left the keep hours ago.

"About what?" His tone was tired and sullen, and it sounded as if it belonged to someone who held no hope.

She frowned at him. "About what I did to piss you off?" She rode up next to him and stared at him, making sure he could not ignore her. It was the only thing she had thought of that made any sense, but she had no idea what she had done. "Jon wouldn't tell me... and I—"

He chuckled, but it sounded wrong—no humor or cheer was held within it. "You didn't upset me."

She bit her lip. There were good things about keeping your mouth shut, but Fykes never explaining anything was getting old. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to embellish, lie, anything. Any kind of explanation.

He never offered one, and after a few moments, he picked up his pace and rode away from her once again.

Together they followed the curving road as it carried them above the forest into a pale gray landscape of stone and pebbles. Mosses stretched over the rocks, creating a tapestry in shades of green and soft rust-colored orange. Katerin was shaken from her observance of the mosses as they rounded a corner and Fykes let out a tired sigh. The road ahead was covered in large chunks of stone that had fallen free of the hill to their right and made a treacherous mess of the roadway. She looked for a pathway through the mess as Fykes dismounted his horse.

"This is going to be a nightmare for the caravan," he said, shaking his head.

Katerin chewed her lip. "What can we do about it?"

Fykes shrugged. "Not much... I'll send word to the town about it once we get to Anklestrap." He moved back to his mount and grasped the reins in one hand.

Fykes' mount spooked to the sound of falling stones and bolted past him in a second, yanking the leather of the reins from his grip.

*

Katerin turned to see a disgusting form leaping down from the cliff, its heavy tree club arcing toward her through open air. Her breath caught in her throat, cutting off her scream. Before she could react, her own mount bucked under her and she fell to the side, foot caught in the stirrup as she landed with a thump on the rocks. The pain of the fall turned her vision white, and her breath caught as if blocked by a wall.

The tree club slammed into the ground not far behind her. She tugged her foot free of the stirrup with a cry as her horse bolted in the opposite direction, snorting with foam around its mouth and disappearing in a thunder of hoof-beats. Her breath wanted to come quickly to match her state of mind, but it felt more like choking—every breath an unmatched agony.

*

Fykes pulled his blades free and charged the one eyed creature with abandon. His slashing cuts did little to injure it, leaving only tiny drops of blood along its thighs. "Over here, you big bastard!" His voice held a hot anger, as he circled around it, hoping to buy Katerin the time she needed to recover from her fall. "Don't worry!" He called to Katerin, grimacing at his unsteady footing. "There's only one of them!" He knew they were easy to fight, in groups. They were slow, and all you had to do was stay close.

The gray skinned, dark-eyed creature followed his movements sluggishly, lumbering with every step. It reached out with one hand, grasping for him, and he flicked his blade, leaving a long slice along its hand, one that had finally cut well through its thick hide. He danced around its feet, exhilaration and fear mixing, tensing his muscles and narrowing his senses. There's only one, he thought. This is going to be fine.

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