A cackling laugh echoed all around them.
“I don’t think that’s an illusion,” Wilhelm said, his grip on his sword tightening. “And our swords aren’t going to do much against something that big.”
“A bashe,” Shea said in realization.
Trenton didn’t take his eyes from where the creature had disappeared as he asked, “A what?”
“It’s a story,” Shea said. “Or at least I thought it was a story.”
She’d never seen such a creature in real life and would have never given it consideration, if her father hadn’t shared that the mythologicals were back.
“It’s essentially a giant serpent.” Shea looked around them in concern. The shape had been big, but not as big as the stories had said. Maybe they had exaggerated. She prayed that was the case.
Shea pulled them along the path, their footsteps careful and sure as they edged away from the direction the creature had gone. Something slid through the mist, stirring it up so it moved horizontally in front of her.
The movement confirmed her suspicions. The stories weren’t built up—that thing really was humongous, and it’d already surrounded them with the rest of its body, keeping them distracted near its head.
“Smart little mouse,” the voice heckled. “He didn’t say you would be so smart.”
“Who?” Shea asked, backing away from the thick, muscular body of the bashe. She needed to buy time while she thought of a plan.
Again, a dim figure rushed through the mist at them, sliding along the ground in a serpentine zig-zag. Trenton’s blade flashed out, bouncing harmlessly off scales.
Shea yanked on the rope, dragging him and Witt out of the way of the thing’s jaws as it swept past.
“Shit,” Trenton growled, landing on his back. He rolled to his feet, favoring his right side.
Fear made Shea’s hands shake as she struggled to remember everything she could from that long-ago story. Nothing came to mind. No weaknesses to exploit, no easy method of killing it. Nothing.
Wilhelm’s horse shook its head and stood with its legs spread as it whinnied. It didn’t like this situation any more than the humans did.
“Our weapons will do little against those scales,” Fallon said.
“What about the bows?” Shea asked, spotting them on one of the horses.
The Trateri had three main weapons. A curved sabre that was edged on one side, a composite bow, and a long spear with a hook on the end that they used to unseat opponents during battle. Trenton and Wilhelm typically only carried the sword on their person, leaving the rest attached to their horses in the event they rode into battle.
Trenton’s disgusted look answered that question even as Wilhelm shook his head and said, “They’ll be almost as useless as the sword. With something that big, it probably won’t even notice unless we hit an eye.”
Which most likely still wouldn’t kill it.
The same with any attacks on the body. At most, they’d be a minor nuisance.
“That leaves one option,” Shea said in a resigned voice.
“You have a plan, then?” Witt asked, keeping an eye on their surroundings.
“Yup, but I don’t think any of you are going to like it.” Shea’s expression turned sour. If she was being honest, she didn’t like her plan either.
Trenton stared at her for several beats before he shook his head. “No, that’s crazy.”
“It’s the best option we’ve got,” Fallon agreed, his mind already following where hers had gone.
Surprise and understanding dawned on Wilhelm and Witt’s faces as they realized what she was thinking.
“I feel like your plans get worse and worse the longer I know you—like gone ‘round the bend crazy worse,” Trenton said. To Fallon, he said, “At least tell me we’re not letting her do the honors.”
Fallon’s eyes were dark as he stared at Shea. It was obvious he wanted to order her to abandon their group and head to the Keep by herself, even at the expense of his own safety. It was just as obvious she would refuse.
