After three days of trekking, the small group was almost within sight of the cliffs of the eastern shore. As soon as they reached that jagged shoreline, they would make camp for the night. But that was still some hours away.
During their days of almost continual running, little talk passed between the three. This was primarily down to the fact they lacked a free breath to utter anything but the most rudimentary of words. Unfortunately, the boy was already showing signs of fatigue and still had over five hundred miles of hard slog in front of them.
The mason glanced over his shoulder and saw his son and Dilly had fallen behind again. He wanted to push on, as he knew Suds sensed the eyes of the enemy upon them. But he also knew his son needed a rest.
The mason drew to a halt, and Suds came to a stop at his side.
“Why have you stopped?” the Elf asked as he scanned the sky above them.
The mason followed the Elf’s gaze as he asked, “What is it you’re looking for?”
Suds looked back at his friend. “You answer my question first.”
The mason turned his gaze to his son, who plodded toward them on tired legs. “We need to let the boy rest for a few minutes.”
The Elf looked skyward again. He then turned his hawk-like gaze toward the cliffs, less than ten miles away. Finally, Suds let out a sigh and said, “Ten minutes, no more.”
The mason nodded. “Now, answer my question. Why do you keep looking toward the sky?”
“I sense eyes searching for us,” the Elf replied. “I think the enemy is using Hawk Gazers to find us.”
“Hawk Gazers, they do not exist.”
“Oh, but they do, my old friend.”
The mason snorted derisively. “Mystics who had their eyes removed, then witches bound their vision to that of a hawk. Rubbish!”
The Elf placed a hand on the big man’s shoulder. “After all we have seen and done, why is it you still disbelieve such things? You have seen with your own eyes what dark magic can do.”
The mason looked back to his son, now only feet away. He then looked up. “Have we been seen?”
“I know not,” the Elf replied as he looked to the boy and smiled. “Young Master, I think this is a good point in our journey to rest old Dilly.”
“Suds, nice of you to think of my feelings, but I know why we are stopping,” the boy said as he simply dropped to the ground and pulled out his waterskin. The Elf’s words were, of course, a lie, and the boy knew it. The donkey had strength to spare, but he did not.
The donkey nuzzled the boy’s neck as he drank, so he poured a little of the water into a cupped hand and offered it to her. She lapped his palm dry, so he repeated the move several more times.
“We’ll take ten minutes to rest our legs, then we will press on till nightfall,” his father said as he looked around. He then looked down at his exhausted son. “Are you able to go on, Boy?”
The boy nodded. “Aye, Da. Just give me a minute to get my breath back.”
The mason nodded, then squatted on his haunches beside his son, as did Suds.
For the next ten minutes, they shared dried meat and water as they talked quietly. As they did this, Dilly munched on the grass that surrounded them.
For a short time, they could enjoy a respite from the truth of their situation. They were not three fugitives on the run. They were just friends and family enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon sun.
Finally, the mason stood and turned back toward the distant cliff edge. “Time to be underway,” he said as he turned to his boy and offered him a helping hand.
The boy took it and allowed his father to haul him to his feet.
The mason smiled at his boy. “Are you ready?” he asked in a kindly voice.
“Aye, Da.”
With a nod, the mason took off at a brisk trot again, as did Suds.
The boy went to follow, but Dilly let out a loud, ‘Nee-haw,’ and locked her legs. The beast’s sudden stop caught the boy off guard, and he was jerked off his feet. As he hit the ground, he let out a grunt as the wind rushed from his lungs.
The other two members of the party, who were now ten or so yards in front, turned to see what had happened.
The Elf walked cautiously back to his donkey with a wary expression on his face, but he ignored the boy in the grass.
“What is it, girl?” the Elf asked as he scratched behind the animal’s ear and scanned their surroundings.
“Perhaps she needs to rest a bit longer?” the boy said as he hauled himself to his feet.
The Elf glanced at the youngster beside him and noted how red-faced and sweaty he looked. “Are you sure it’s not you who needs to rest a bit longer, Young Master?”
The boy’s face reddened all the more, but this time from annoyance.
The Elf smiled and continued to study their surroundings. “This fine beast can run all day and all night and still have legs for more. If she stopped, it’s because she senses something?”
“So your donkey has keener senses than an Elf?”
Suds nodded. “Sometimes.”
“What’s going on?”
Both Suds and the boy turned their gaze to the mason, now stood on his own some fifteen yards away.
“Dilly seems indisposed to go farther,” Suds called back. “And I am trying to discern why.”
“She senses something?” the mason asked as he too started scanning the vast, open grasslands around them.
“Aye. I....” Suds began but halted as Dilly started digging at the ground with her hooves, then started backing away.
Just then, the ground began to shake, and the Elf’s eye went wide as he stared down at the dirt beneath his feet. His head then snapped in the mason’s direction. “Cal! Devil Worms!”
“Devil Worms?” the boy yelled as he looked down, then his head turned toward his father, who was now running as fast as he could in their direction.
The mason’s legs pumped, but no matter how fast he ran, he had no chance of outrunning the two beasts that erupted from the ground like whales breaching from the oceans.
As fast as a flash, the Elf snatched his bow from his shoulder and started advancing toward the enormous creatures that slammed to the dirt behind the mason.
Both the segmented creatures were covered in wickedly strong and sharp barbs, which they used to propel themselves through the rock deep beneath the ground. The bodies of the whale-sized monsters now pulsed as those same barbs dug into the dirt and thrust them toward the fleeing mason.
Despite their massive size and their ungainly appearance, they moved with frightening speed.
The Elf nocked an arrow as he ran toward the threat, and loosed it at the monster closest to his old friend.
Devil Worms had no eyes, only a vast, gaping maw that they used to funnel dirt and rock through their bodies and out their rears. That same mouth would consume anything in its path, including the man now trying to outrun them.
So, when Suds’ arrow hit home inside the beast’s mouth, it had no effect. In fact, the beast did not even seem to notice being struck.
The Elf skidded to a stop and stared down again, just as a third Devil Worm burst from the ground between him and the mason. Suds could do little else, other than to turn and run.
The boy yelled as he watched the three monsters encircle his father. “Da!”
The mason slid to a stop and drew his sword, Wolf Fang. He then stood his ground as the massive monsters closed in on him.
The boy had to do something, but he was unarmed and powerless against such nightmarish creatures.
His mind swirled with memories of his mother’s death, and now, to his horror, he was about to witness his father’s.
Anger, fear and grief filled him, which fueled him with more strength than he’d ever thought possible. Without thinking, he ran forward and toward the last Devil Worm to appear. As he passed Suds, who was now peppering the worms with his seemingly endless supply of arrows, he snatched the Elf’s sword from his side and barreled onwards.
The boy could vaguely hear the Elf shouting for him to stop, but the words meant nothing to him. All that mattered was saving his father.
Moving with speed he never thought possible, the boy soon reached the tail of the worm closest to him, and he leaped.
To the boy’s surprise, he sailed ten, fifteen, then twenty feet into the air before landing halfway up the beast’s undulating hide. Though the monster was covered in sharp barbs taller than him, they were wide enough apart for him to navigate through.
To his relief, the beast appeared unaware of his presence and instead focused firmly on his father, who hacked at it with Wolf Fang.
As the boy drew closer to the creature’s head, he spotted soft pink sections of flesh between the thick plates that covered most of the animal’s body.
He came to a halting stop a few feet from the monster’s quivering maw and looked down. Here the plates protecting the beast were much smaller, and the flesh less easy to see. However, he saw what looked like a thick, pulsating vein filled with blood between two of the scales.
With a roar of rage, the boy drove the Elven blade down and twisted.
Elvish steel never dulled or rusted, and ancient magic imbibed every weapon with the power to kill beasts of darkness with a single, precise strike.
Whether through luck or instinct, the boy found one of the few weak spots a Devil Worm had, and the results of his attack were instant.
The giant beast reared up violently and let out an earsplitting, ululating screech that caused the other two massive worms to back away.
As the worm bucked and thrashed, the boy clung to the hilt of the sword, which still protruded from the monster’s flesh. Great gouts of blackish fluid gushed out around the blade, covering the mason’s son in foul-smelling blood that loosened his grip on the sword.
With one last violent spasm that sent the boy flying, the beast died and fell to the ground.
As the boy flew high into the air, the remaining two worms retreated back into the holes they’d appeared from and made good their escape before they met the same fate as the one just slain.
Suds’ Elvish reflexes were as fast as ever, and the moment Faen was slung free of the Devil Worm, he reacted.
The boy was too large and heavy for him to catch, but he could at least soften the impact the boy felt when he hit the ground.
The Elf kept his one good eye fixed on the falling boy as he ran toward where he believed Faen would land. As he ran, he undid his cape and muttered incantations. Suds threw his cloak in the air with mere feet and a second to spare, and it enveloped the boy’s falling body.
Instantly, the Elvish spell he’d set upon the cape slowed the boy’s descent to a speed he could survive.
The mason’s son hit the ground with no more force than falling from bed, and the Elven cloak unwrapped from around him.
Suds skidded to a stop and dropped to one knee beside the child. “Young Master,” Suds implored as he took the boy’s hand. “Faen, hear my words and return to the light!”
The boy was covered head to foot in the beast’s blood, which looked like tar, but smelled like hell. His eyes were shut, but on hearing the Elf’s magical words, they flickered open. “Where’s Da?” the boy whispered.
Dilly had now joined them, and she nudged the boy with her snout as she stared down at him with her big, brown eyes.
“I’m here, Boy.”
Suds looked over his shoulder, then stood and moved aside for the mason.
The boy smiled up at his father. “I thought they were going to eat you.”
The big man smiled back. “So did I.”
The Elf laid a hand on the big man’s shoulder. “Well, I have to say that was the most stupid, most brave thing I’ve seen in an age. He’s definitely your son, Cal.”
“I’m sorry, Suds,” the boy said as he lifted himself up on his elbows. “I lost your sword.”
“Nonsense,” the Elf said as he held out a hand and whispered something in Elvish.
The boy’s eyes went wide as Suds’ sword materialized in the Elf’s hand.
“Elven magic is wondrous,” the boy said as he got to his feet.
Both his father and the Elf backed away as they covered their noses.
“There’s a stream over yonder,” his father said as he pointed to his left with one hand and covered his mouth and nose with the other. “Go wash off in it right away.”
“And leave those clothes, as nothing will rid them of that stench,” Suds added.
Only Dilly seemed unconcerned by the stink, so she followed the boy down to the stream as he stripped off and bathed.
Once clean, he went to one of the packs on Dilly’s back and pulled out the only other clothes he had. Somehow, in the one night they’d spent at Suds’ house, the Elf had managed to make him a spare set of garments.
The boy shivered as he slipped on the thin trousers and shirt, but was amazed by how warm the flimsy clothes were. He knew Elven magic was at work in the garments, and he marveled at how they felt against his skin.
Unfortunately, he only had one pair of boots, which he’d thoroughly washed in the stream with him. He returned barefoot to the stream’s bank to retrieve them, then plodded back to his father and the Elf.
The two had gathered up what wood they could and now had a small fire burning inside a ring of stones.
As soon as the boy and Dilly joined them, Suds retrieved four hand-carved stakes from the donkey’s back and hammered them into the ground around them. The four stakes formed a rough square, in which the group of travelers and the donkey resided.
Once the Elf was happy, he murmured some more Elvish words of magic, which then hid them from prying eyes.
Utterly amazed once more, the boy looked up at the darkening sky, which shimmered through the veil of concealment.
“Is this like the magic that hid your house?” the boy asked as he placed his boots beside the fire to dry.
The Elf looked up as he retrieved an iron tripod and pot from a pack on Dilly’s back. “It’s similar, but not as powerful. This can only shield us from being seen and heard, which means someone could stumble on to us and pass through it. Whereas, the veil that protects my house is impenetrable.”
The boy’s father went to the donkey and started silently unpacking provisions.
“I’m sorry, Da. I know you did not want to camp until we reached the cliffs.”
The big man looked at his son. “Why are you sorry?”
“It’s my fault we’re stuck here tonight.”
“Nonsense,” the big man said as he returned to the fire with wrapped meat and some vegetables, which he placed on the ground beside it. “If not for you, Boy, I might be dead.”
Suds nodded. “You’re just as fast in battle as your father. You moved just like him,” he said as he set the tripod up above the fire and dangled the pot into the flames.
“About that,” the boy said. “How did I jump so high and move so fast?”
Both his father and the Elf froze.
“Da, I know you’re hiding something from me.”
His father let out a sigh, then said, “I cannot tell you until your Becoming. That is the law.”
Suds blew a loud raspberry as he filled the pot with water from a skin. “Law! What rubbish!”
The mason looked up at the Elf. “It is our way!”
“Is it the same law that forbids you both from telling me your real Lords’ name? Cal, I have known you since you were little older than your boy. I have known all your lineage right back to when they made their oath to the king a thousand years ago. On your father’s deathbed, he told me his name. Up until then, I knew him only as Faen.”
“That’s what you call me,” the boy said excitedly.
“I know. I have called all the men of your bloodline by that name. All but your father, who took on the name the army gave him.
“The pigheaded men of your family live by stupid laws and fables. There are no Lords. I know this because for the thousands of years I’ve walked these lands, I’ve watched Men worship more religions than I have underpants!”
“That’s blasphemy!” the mason hissed, his anger rising.
“If it’s blasphemy, then strike me down!” the Elf yelled as he held his hands to the sky. A few seconds passed, and Suds’ whole defiant attitude changed. “Who wants mutton stew?” he said as he picked up the ingredients the mason had placed beside the fire.
Close to a minute passed in silence, then the boy spoke. “Da, I think you should tell me what’s going on. I know you are worried about our laws, but it is not like you are breaking them freely. Knowing the truth might save my life.”
Suds nodded. “Well said, Young Master. Now go fetch the salt.”
The boy did as asked as his father pondered his words. When the boy returned, his father spoke on the matter.
“Very well. After we have eaten, I will tell you how the Wolf Bloods came into being.”
With their stomachs full and everything cleared away, the mason prepared both himself and Suds a pipe as he considered how to tell his son the truth.
He could feel his son’s eyes on him as he packed the pipes with leaf. Then, as he handed one of the pipes to Suds, he began to tell his long tale.
“Our lineage is old, though we have not always been as we are now. We were once beasts born from magic, and it was magic that saved us. The line of the Wolf Bloods as we are now came into being a thousand years ago, and Suds was there at the beginning....”