The Living Dead

12

The sun had been down for half an hour. Mialee scanned the forest for some sign of the wolves that hunted them. She wasn't just looking, she was magically scanning for their telltale, necrotic signatures. A few flickered black in her altered vision, but she had difficulty pinpointing individuals.

Hound-Eye, limping along beside her, cocked his good eye at the elf woman, who smiled and returned her gaze forward. "Scanning," she explained, "but it's hard to get a fix."

"Eight to the left, maybe a dozen to the right," Hound-Eye replied, "that I can see with one eye, anyway." He wasn't bothering to whisper. The hunters knew exactly where they were.

Twenty, at least. Mialee let her detection spell dissipate to conserve her energy. She had no reason to doubt Hound-Eye, which was odd, considering how they'd met. She found he was quite honest about his profession once she got to know him. If they were going to get to the bottom of this, the halfling said, he was coming along for the revenge, or would die trying to get it. He actually pulled up his eye patch, revealing an empty red socket, and swore to them by his good eye that he would not betray them.

The halfling claimed to know right where to find the "mythical" village of Silatham, and even now led them through the forest far from the overgrown wagon-track that ran to the ruins of Morkeryth and Tent City.

Devis patched up his own injuries with a little ditty, and the gnome cleric kept their most grievous wounds from bleeding out. Zalyn's ability as a healer was limited. The gnome did the best she could, but all were still hurting to some degree. They agreed, however, to save the last few healing potions in case of another battle. If the elf village really was nearby, they could get aid there.

The wolves started shadowing them shortly after the travelers moved away from the river. Diir informed them with unsmiling certainty that these wolves smelled familiar. Hound-Eye insisted this same pack had been part of the massacre at Tent City.

A dozen normal wolves would have been threatening, but Mialee was confident the group could handle such a threat. The creatures that Diir and Hound-Eye described were much more dangerous, akin to the crocodile: zombie-like creations displaying an unnerving amount of intelligence.

The wizard nearly asked Hound-Eye and Diir if they thought the creatures were herding them toward Silatham, but decided she didn't want to know. If she could see it, Diir and Hound-Eye were probably already aware of it.

Mialee's eyes flashed to Zalyn. The chatty gnome was silent. She had tried in vain to raise the halfling, Takata, but the prayers and invocations were beyond her. The failure seemed to have snuffed out part of her spirit.

Mialee nearly tripped on a tree root when Hound-Eye's gloved hand smacked her bare thigh. The halfling stopped and jerked a thumb over one shoulder.

"Slowly," he said, and turned. Mialee saw the others do the same from the corner of her eye.

Two black shapes loped along behind them through the trees, no longer making any pretense at lurking. Black pits stared soullessly at Mialee as one of the wolves raised its muzzle and let out a gurgling snarl. Three, four, six shapes fell in behind the first two, gaping jaws grinning with long yellow teeth. Eight behind them, picking up speed.

Everyone stopped. The wolves slowed and milled about with menace. A few seconds passed as hunters and hunted sized each other up. One of the zombie wolves uttered a low growl deep in its tattered throat, and the pack took up the same call.

Then the wolves roared and charged.

"Run!" shouted Devis, but they already were.