The one in the middle put a bugle to his lips and blew. No sound issued forth, but the effect on the creatures was instantaneous. They roared and bounded forward.
“Is that?” Shea asked.
“Yes,” Reece hissed.
“Shit.”
A beast call. Just their luck.
“Move,” Reece shouted to those who now, seeing the danger, panicked as they broke into a full sprint towards the fountain.
Dane and Peyton were on the other side of the glen, too far to be of much help to those of the students bringing up the rear. Their whompers were out of range, and by the time they were close enough, the creatures would have overrun Shea’s position.
“Shea, you got any advice?” Trenton asked, his voice tight.
Shea watched the creatures that loped toward them, their gait eating up the ground. Their limbs were unnaturally long, giving them a spindly look, their spines rounded and hunched. Their head was elongated with overly large eyes. They were grindles. They hunted in packs and could easily dismember their prey with their superior strength and long reach.
“Don’t let it grab you,” Shea warned. “It’ll tear you apart.”
“Sounds simple,” Trenton said, his voice heavy with sarcasm as he stepped forward, putting a bit of space between himself and Shea.
Braden did the same, giving Shea a piece of advice as he did so. “Remember what we’ve taught you.”
She nodded, the motion jerky. Keep your grip loose but firm. Stay light on your feet. Don’t die.
“We just need to hold them off long enough for Dane and Peyton to get here with their whompers,” Reece said, his face grim.
Her cousin was being optimistic. Something he was not prone to being. It told Shea just how bad the situation actually was, not that she really needed the confirmation.
By her assessment, Dane and Peyton only had two of the whompers, and while powerful, they were single shots. Even if they hit on target and did the necessary damage—which was not a guarantee considering the grindle’s tough hide—that still left one grindle and the three humans to contend with.
By now, most of the students had reached them. One shot past them, his legs pumping as he headed for the ruins in the distance.
“Where are you going?” Reece shouted.
The student glanced back but didn’t stray from his course.
“Idiot,” Reece snapped. “He’s going to get himself killed.”
Shea stepped forward, the inclination to stop the man from doing something stupid compelling her to action. It was an instinctive need to help, even as she knew there was little she could do.
“Don’t you go anywhere, Shea. There’s nothing you can do for him. You can’t fix stupid.” Reece snarled. To Trenton, he said, “Don’t let her off the stone. We’re safest here.”
Reluctantly, Shea admitted to herself Reece was right. Venturing after the man would be unwise and put not only herself in danger, but Trenton and Braden, and probably Clark as well, since they would feel compelled to follow her.
As hard as it was to admit, the boy who’d fled wasn’t worth the danger to her three companions. Not when he’d let panic and self-interest guide his actions. He probably thought the grindles would be so preoccupied with their group he could reach safety before they caught him.
The grindles proved just how wrong he was. One split from the pack, its long strides gaining ground between it and the student.
There was a harsh scream as the grindle leapt, bringing the man down and tearing at him with teeth and claws.
“Focus on yourselves,” Braden snapped as the students acted like a flock of geese in the face of a predator and threatened to bolt. “He was foolish and paid the price. Stick together and we might survive. Break and run and it is certain you will die.”
The words seemed to settle their charges as the other two grindles reached the outer edge of the stone circle. Their flat out run slowed and they skirted the edge, snorting at the stones as they did so.
Shea noted their reaction with interest and a little hope, as the two grindles paced away from each other, walking in a circle around the fountain and its outlying stone cobblestones.
“The water is acting as a repellent,” Shea said.
