The journey takes us into the denser woods. Our game trail grows narrower until I can barely make it out. The sun struggles to shine through the thick boughs overhead. Only a small amount of light reaches the forest floor.
Our journey is silent except for when the others call out their names. We continue on the path and come across numerous brambles. Yet none of them seem all that sinister.
Then we march single file up a steep hill, and I feel like something is off. I can’t describe the feeling other than it seems like something terrible is breathing down my neck. The others sense it, too, glancing about sharply in the near darkness and gripping their weapons all the more tightly.
“We’re nearly to the place where they found him,” Vaerlik says from the front of our band.
“Then we’d best look sharp,” I snap. “Let’s make sure everyone is still with us. Roll call!”
One by one, the orcs in our band call out their names. All save one.
“Burr?” I frown and look to the rear of the line. “Burr, can you hear us?”
The band stopped, and everyone exchanged nervous glances.
“He was right behind me a moment ago,” says one of the orcs. “He can’t have gone far.”
We moved back the way we came, calling out Burr’s name. I worry that someone else will disappear.
“Staggered whistling,” I call out.
I start the whistle, and when I die down, another warrior takes it up. This way, we can constantly keep track of each other in the woods. The trunks force us to break up our line, and that concerns me. Then the inevitable happens.
One of the orcs fails to whistle back.
“Everyone freeze,” I cry. “Don’t move. Back to the game trail, now.”
“But now there are two of us missing,” cries one of the search party.
“And I don’t want anyone else to get lost. Vaerlik, you agree with me, right?”
Silence.
“Vaerlik?”
I shout his name louder, and then his scream splits the air. I ran in the direction it came from. The sounds of other orcs crashing through the underbrush mean I’m not alone. At least, not for now. Yet it seems like there should be more, far more.
I charge through the forest, unmindful of thorns and brambles tearing at my clothing and skin. It almost seems as if the forest itself is trying to prevent me from getting to Vaerlik. The tracker’s scream comes again, and I run even faster.
I burst through the tree line into a clearing. My eyes widen as I stare at a tree with a gnarled, grotesquely shaped trunk. Its bark is so dark red as to be almost black, and not a single leaf remains on its dead branches. The tree must be twice as big around as the next largest I’ve seen in this forest.
But it’s what’s pinned to the tree that really captures my attention. Or rather, who. Vaerlik hangs from the trunk about twenty feet in the air. Vines encircle his limbs and throat, choking off his next scream.
Right before my eyes, the vines burrow into his shoulders, sneaking in past the gaps in his armor. Vaerlik cries out in agony despite the tight hold on his throat. Now I know what caused Moldar’s wounds.
My axes are in my hands. I don’t even recall drawing them. I charge the tree, intending to climb up and free him.
A sharp cry from my left stops me cold. I turn just in time to see another orc being dragged away into the underbrush by more of the red vines. Suddenly the clearing is alive with them, whipping about and hissing through the air, almost like snakes.
A thick one entangles around my leg. I shouted and brought my ax down on it, severing it in two. The halves fall apart and spurt thick sap all around, the same sap I saw at the shaman’s temple back at Shattered Rock.
I hacked at more vines that were trying to entangle me. I have to get to the tracker, but I don’t see how it’s possible. I can’t even see him for all of the vines assaulting me. With horror, I realize that if I remain another moment, I’ll be imprisoned too.
My first thought is that I have to get back to Paige, no matter what. I do something that makes me feel about as low as a snake.
I flee.
I raced out of the clearing. The vines were tearing at me and trying to hold me back. I missed a step and tumbled down a steep hill, falling head over heels. At least the vines plague me no longer as they seem to stop at the top of the hill.