Arg swung his axe at the thrall, but instead of slicing him in two, the axe pushed him away, leaving only a scrape that glowed green. Within seconds, the scrape shrank to nothing, and the glow floated up like a stream of mist to the thrall’s face. The crystal eye sucked up the glowing mist and shone brighter. The thrall smiled and lunged. He got inside Arg’s reach and planted his knife in his side. Hollering with rage, Arg dropped his axe and punched the thrall in the face. The force of the punch pushed the thrall away, leaving his knife buried in Arg’s side.

  An arrow from Shale thunked into the thrall’s chest, and his smile turned into a grimace. Green glowing mist rose from the wound, but the arrow prevented it from healing. Shale’s second arrow found the creature’s heart, and it fell. The glow from its crystal eye left and drifted toward the front door. The door opened, and seven more thralls stepped out, red lights shining from beneath their hoods. The glow from the dead thrall flowed toward them, lending itself to the standing thralls.

  Arg whipped a rapier from his pack. “Piercing works!” he hollered. “Strike true!”

  Julius, Bob, and Calvin joined him in the melee, doing their best to inflict deep mortal wounds instead of scraping the surface. Calvin’s opponent was a nimble one, and it took some fancy footwork to keep up with it.

  A window opened, and Calvin felt a small, warm splat on his neck. He squinted at the window, but it closed again.

  A scream pierced the air and struck Calvin with terrible familiarity. He spun, fight forgotten. A figure stumbled toward him from the trees, its front soaked and dripping with blood. It was Terry. “Chet, save me,” he said. “Save me!” He tripped and fell on his face.

  “No!” Calvin rushed to help his friend, but a gigantic red snake emerged from the foliage and beat him there. The snake seized Terry and lifted him into the air. Terry screamed more frantically for Calvin’s help, but the snake gulped him down before Calvin could reach him. A Terry-sized lump moved down its throat, wriggling violently as he tried to resist being digested. With a guttural cry, Calvin swung his sword, slashing the snake clean through just beneath the lump. The crimson snake’s head fell, the contents of its throat spilling onto the ground. But instead of Terry’s struggling form, it was heads. Danti with his exceptional beard. Edwin with his trusting red eyes. Damien. Rupert. Fred. Marlon. Ruven. Borris. Mike. Harold. Each of their faces screwed up in pain, each of them screaming in agony.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Calvin fell to his knees, feeling helpless. What am I supposed to do? What’s doing this to them?

  The body of the snake quivered and rose. Like a hydra with a severed head, it was healing. A new head grew from the wound, followed by a muscular torso with a thick pair of arms. A wicked glaive appeared in its hands, and the creature smiled as it leveled the blade at Calvin’s heart.

  “Calvin!” Pelias shouted. Calvin turned, then yelled in pain and surprise as a knife sank into his left shoulder. The thrall he’d forgotten had tried to take advantage of Calvin’s weakness. His crystal eye blazed red.

  He’s been feeding on my fear. Calvin shoved the thrall away and rallied his focus. We’re fighting Rikchay. They hit me with their venom and I’ve been hallucinating. None of that was real. A strong warmth sparked in his gut and spread up his spine, soothing his mind. His senses wouldn’t betray him now. Talkus’s blessing would see to that. He slashed at the creature. It didn’t even dodge. The scrapes glowed, then closed, lending their light to the creature’s crystal eye. The creature grinned and lunged out with its knife. Calvin stepped into the blow, narrowly dodging the blade plunging his sword up into its chest. The grin fell from its face. The knife fell from its hand. Calvin stepped back, and its body fell from his sword. Calvin took a moment to look at its face. Aside from the green skin, it looked elvish. It reminded him of Ruven. But that’s ridiculous. Ruven is dead. This was probably a villager from Rowan City in life. Rowan City has elvish residents, doesn’t it? Yeah, it should. He shook his head, hoping the Rikchay venom wasn’t still in effect, making him hallucinate Ruven’s features on the thrall’s face.