The tip of his sword moved in small circles. "Get ready," he whispered, his whole body vibrating. Excited, he lifted a thin lip in a snarl. Another gust of wind rushed through the forest. He denied himself those luxuries, too, and stayed behind the tree, watching the trail. He did not let the Urgals get up or warm themselves. The scent must have wafted far ahead of its owners. The Shade forced back his impatience as the minutes became hours. He suppressed his distastethey smelled like fetid meatand turned away. The Shade hissed in anger, and the Urgals shrank back, motionless. Then the monsters shivered in the cold night one snapped a twig with his heavy boot.
An owl screeched, cutting through the silence. The Urgals could not see as well as the Shade they groped like blind beggars, fumbling with their weapons. The weapon was thin enough to slip between a pair of ribs, yet stout enough to hack through the hardest armor. A wire-thin scratch curved down the blade. He remained unnaturally quiet, a long pale sword in his hand. It was too dark for any human to see, but for him the faint moonlight was like sunshine streaming between the trees every detail was clear and sharp to his searching gaze.
The Shade peered around a thick tree and looked up the trail. Soon the rustling quieted and the forest was silent again. The monsters hurried into the brush, grunting as they hid. A pair of twisted horns grew above their small ears.
They resembled men with bowed legs and thick, brutish arms made for crushing. or die."Īround him shuffled twelve Urgals with short swords and round iron shields painted with black symbols. Or was it a trap? He weighed the odds, then said icily, "Spread out hide behind trees and bushes. The message had been correct they were here. He looked human except for his crimson hair and maroon eyes. A tall Shade lifted his head and sniffed the air. Wind howled through the night, carrying a scent that would change the world.
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