“It didn’t attack, though. Perhaps it was just as surprised as we were.” Kraghtol said. “Like a startled animal.”
“Yeah, let’s just hope there aren’t more of them out there. I’m not sure I’ve brought enough spare pants.” Dagna said, and the joke helped to dissipate some of the tension. Valir even chuckled.
Kraghtol was distracted. His eyes had latched onto the discarded lyre on the ground, and his mind was jumping three steps ahead.
“I know how we can stop the orderkeepers.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea? ‘Risky’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
They weren’t far from the campsite where they met the demon — against all protests from Valir, the name had caught on — on a small mound overlooking a muddy basin. The noble was pacing up and down, while Dagna was surveying their surroundings.
It hadn’t been the first time Valir had asked that question, and Kraghtol answered the same way he always did. “No. I don’t think it’s agoodidea, but we all agreed it could work. Besides — ”
“I see them!” Dagna called out, causing the other two to fall silent. It had only been one day of waiting, meaning the orderkeepers would have caught up with them rather sooner than later. Kraghtol, too, could see the shine of fire, and realized their pursuers had torches. No wonder they could cover more way than Kraghtol and his friends could.
He nodded towards Valir and got in position. The noble was hidden from sight, but only moments later, the metallic-sounding notes of the lyre cut through the air as he practiced his scales again. Dagna was in position as well, which left only Kraghtol, who took a deep breath and stepped out onto the hill, his green skin clearly illuminated by the campfire. Only moments later, the four officials clad in red stepped onto the muddy clearing.
It was indeed Roderic Hawke, his impressive mustache disappearing into a wild, full beard not unlike the one on Kraghtol’s own face. He was accompanied by two women and one man, who looked little better than their leader. They were covered in cuts and bruises, and mud all over their red uniforms. But where they looked tired, Roderic himself exuded an entirely different energy. His eyes shone in the flickering light with manic madness, and Kraghtol wondered if that was what happened when the human mind couldn’t take the chaos all around anymore.
He waited until the orderkeepers were well into the open area before he shouted.
“Orderkeeper Hawke! You need to stop! You can’t follow me anymore.”
The bloodjacket did stop indeed, a grin of superiority forming on his dirty face.
“Ha! Look at you. Has your fey-cursed luck finally run out? You thought you could escape the law by running from justice, but it looks like you have finally hit a dead end.”
He spat out onto the ground. “Nobody escapes the law. And the law am I!”
Kraghtol raised both of his hands, showing the officials the empty palms while behind him, Valir kept playing. His eyes scanned the moving fog but couldn’t see anything. Had he been wrong about the luring effect of the music?
“You don’t have to do that. I did nothing wrong. Someone else has killed the guild master. I have seen it happen.”
“Your lies get you nowhere, orc scum.” Even in the dim light, Kraghtol could see the drops of spit flying from the man’s mouth. “You have been found guilty of murdering local guild master Thalen Virex in response to expulsion from the Alchemists’ Guild. Your punishment is death, finally, and I’m more than happy to enforce that sentence right here and now.”
With that, the orderkeepers continued trudging through the mud. Roderic’s three companions didn’t look nearly as zealous as himself, but they followed. Still, no movement in the fog, so Kraghtol tried to stall again.
“You don’t understand! You need to run! We’re not safe here!”
His eyes focused on a spot behind the orderkeepers. Finally.
“Not safe? Of course it’s not safe here, but that won’t keep me from bringing the guild’s justice to you, just like we did to your f—”
“The demon’s here!” Kraghtol shouted, and a lot of things happened at the same time. Valir’s lyre rang with a loud and shrill tone, just as Dagna cut the concealed string. Immediately, the thorny branches they had bound back snapped back into place, surrounding the muddy area with dense and spiky foliage on all sides but one: back. And the demon pounced from the fog, just as it had last time.
Kraghtol dove into cover behind the bush Valir was hiding behind. He couldn’t see through the branches. Screams erupted down in the clearing, and Kraghtol couldn’t blame them. The demon was a terrifying sight to behold. There wasn’t much room behind the bush, and he could feel the noble next to him tremble. Instinctively, he placed a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s okay. We know the demon’s harmless,” he whispered.
The orderkeepers’ screams sounded more panicked by the moment, and when he heard a tearing sound, followed by a gurgle that cut off one voice, Kraghtol froze.
“Something’s wrong.”
Without waiting for an answer, he jumped up and peered down, his eyes growing wide. He could not believe only moments had passed. The torches lay scattered in the mud, all but one already snuffed out by the moisture. In the flickering light of the dying last one, a terrifying scene unfolded. Three orderkeepers stood huddled together, blades in trembling hands. The fourth one, a woman with auburn hair as Kraghtol remembered, was gone. No, not gone. Her body was tornapart violently. Red blood and pieces of red cloth clung to the twisted body of the demon, which slashed at the survivors with its claws.
Kraghtol felt sickness rising in his throat. What was happening? The beast was supposed to be harmless, a tool for scaring off the orderkeepers! Yet, as he watched, a claw pierced through the chest of the second woman until it emerged from her back, raising her off the ground with a triumphant roar and flicking the corpse back against the other two humans, as if it were a doll, staggering them. The beast was clearly at an advantage. The orderkeepers’ blades were much too short, and Kraghtol knew from experience how dense the creature’s hide was.
“No! Stop! Run!” Kraghtol heard himself shout, and for a moment, the demon turned its head towards him, eyes glittering in malicious rage, as if to say, “You are next.” The last of Roderic’s companions, a man younger than Kraghtol, was the first to react and half stumbled, half crawled towards the opening in the brambles. The one way out, the choke point their trap had created. Roderic was only a split second slower, going backwards while slashing the air in front of him with his weapon. He tried to keep the beast at a distance, but Kraghtol could already see it wouldn’t work. The demon’s gaze went towards the fleeing man, and he could see its five leg muscles tense, getting ready to pounce.
