"How much farther?" she asked.
"We're almost there."
"Can we go faster?"
He nodded.
"Just don't run," she said. "Whatever you do, don't run."
"You think it's--" He cut himself off with a curse. "Of course."
"I could be wrong." I hope to the ancestors I am. "Just keep moving. Don't try to see them."
"Believe me, I don't want to see them."
She made a noise of agreement under her breath. Daigo had fallen back beside her now, guarding her on one side, Tyrus at the other.
"It's a grove of white birch," he whispered. "I see it ahead."
She detected the faint glow of the trees, visible even in the darkness.
"Are the horses tied?" she whispered.
"Well tied."
"Good. We'll have to be fast. Jump on, slash the ropes, and go." And hope the steeds could outrun the beasts that followed. If anything could outrun the beasts that followed.
"The gelding is on the left," Tyrus whispered. "He's a bay. The gray mare is yours."
She nodded. They both clutched their blades, slowing their steps, peering toward the glade, ready to rush forward the moment they saw--
Daigo let out a snort and tried to leap in front of Moria, but she was already stumbling over whatever he'd noticed in her path. It looked like a fallen branch and she was righting herself, cursing, when Tyrus inhaled sharply.
Bone protruded from the end of the "branch." Bloody bone and shredded flesh and, on the other end, a hoof.
"The horses," he whispered. "They've killed . . ."
He didn't need to finish. He and Moria raced forward, both calling a warning to the other to stop as they realized, simultaneously, what they'd done. They'd run, and it was only for a few steps, but it was enough. All around them the forest erupted in growls. Red eyes flashed in the darkness.
They stumbled into the clearing. Tyrus tripped this time, and Moria looked down to see him stagger away from the head of the gray mare. The remains of the horses were everywhere, whole pieces and sometimes no more than bone, the flesh stripped as cleanly as if vultures had feasted for days. There was blood, too, and she slid on a rope of entrails.
Tyrus grabbed her arm to steady her. Then he swung her around behind him, his blade out, the two of them back-to-back. The forest had gone silent now, but Moria could sense the beasts circling. Daigo hissed and spat. When those red eyes flashed in the darkness, he lunged, only to slide on the blood-slick grass and dance away, snarling, his fur on end, ears laid flat. When Daigo looked up, Moria whispered, "Trees. We need to climb a tree."
"The birch are too small."
"I know."
Moria lifted her torch and squinted into the semidarkness.
"There," she whispered, pointing to an oak outside the grove.
Tyrus shifted, as if flexing hi
s knees while he contemplated the distance.
"Twenty paces," she said.
"I have the bigger blade. You'll go first."