Finding Blood (City Underdark #1)

The Denial

"So... that's the place?" whispered Barmond, looking up at the cliff face.

Patricia nodded.

Barmond could see why a large colony of imps would choose to establish themselves in the region. The terrain, with all its sharp protrusions, steep slopes, and dense forest, was difficult to cross when travelling on foot. It was easy for a flying creature to shake off a running creature. Despite that, the werewolves had successfully tracked them down and found their main lair, a cliff within walking distance of Lamare.

How it looked like much at night. The imps that they were dealing with, called harpy imps, were diurnal creature through and through. From where they were standing, crouched in the bushes of the forest, there was no activity anywhere near the gaping holes in the cliff. Barmond could have passed in front of the place a dozen time and never guess that they were there.

He supposed that it might be something else entirely during the day but that didn't concern him.

"Where do they get their water?" he whispered.

"Their water?" replied Patricia. "Why do you want to know?"

"Just thinking."

There was no point in explaining to her if she didn't know why he was asking. Every word they uttered was a word that could be heard by an insomniac imp or, worse yet, a sentry they had assigned to the job. Their level of intelligence was, as far as Barmond knew, comparable to the one of those crows that could repeat some human words. To think that they might be organised enough that they might anticipate a nocturnal threat was chilling.

At least he had managed to find himself a guide other than stupid Hugo, meaning he could think about the problem in peace. He was alone with Patricia now, in the bushes. It was by sheer luck that he had found her as he slipped through the back door to avoid the agitation of the main room. She had been chilling in the courtyard, cooling off as she chewed some strange herbs that died her teeth red. She had told him something about an oath she had just taken to never become drunk again. He didn't really believe her but it wasn't his problem. After a short back and forth, she had agreed to show him the way to the imps' lair.

She had arrived with them - Hugo, Yoven and Barmond - which meant that she had not had the time to come there, but she had spoken something about traces left behind by the ones of her pack that had come before her. Something about footprints in what she called a 'lunar plane'. From the way she casually mentioned it, she didn't seem to realize that Barmond had no idea what she was talking about. He made note of the information and followed her regardless.

And here they were.

A part of him didn't really like her, remembering the lovely bolt she had gifted him. Another was just extremely smug that he had bypassed Hugo's surveillance. On top of that, she was a lot less obnoxious than he was, which was a huge plus in Barmond's book. Maybe he could even grow to like her, someday. Of all the werewolves, she was the one that seemed the least scared of him.

"I think that you can go back," said Barmond to her. "I'm perfectly capable of finding my way."

"Hmm." She looked up, at the cliff, sniffing the air. She seemed a little hesitant. "You'll be okay?"

"Yes. It's getting late. You should go get some rest."

She nodded as she repressed a yawn. Moments later, she was scooting through the vegetation without making a sound. It was more than just an ability to move quietly, Barmond realized as he watched her. She seemed-- well, from the way the leaves moved through her ever-so-slightly, she looked like a ghost Barmond had once spotted in some haunted ruins. Was that a werewolf power? He didn't know much about them but he had always heard that one never knew when they were sneaking up on their prey before it was too late.