The Warden

Chapter 53

"The right one," said Masis, cracking his eyes open, his body losing its tension to certainty.

"Why the right one?" asked General Biligrim, now a bit more subdued.

"I thought..." Masis stopped. Had he seen the glimmer? Had he detected cedar? Both had come and gone so quickly, they registered in his mind closer to illusion than actual sensations. "I just have a feeling."

Masis faced the general who studied him for a moment. "A feeling is better than nothing, I suppose. The right it is."

They headed into the right passageway, when Masis pulled up short. Tearing back around the way they had come, he distinguished in his mindeye the creature he had wished to avoid for a long time yet: a night wight. And it was blazing toward them.

"What is it?!" asked General Biligrim, his voice urgent.

Not answering, Masis grabbed the man by his wrist, pulling him onto his back as he shifted straight into his Great Wolf form. He sprinted away in fluid succession, at full speed within a few steps.

"Lie flat and don't pull on my fur too hard," growled Masis over his shoulder. "There are wighties back there."

"I figured as much," said General Biligrim, breathlessly. "A little warning next time though."

Masis grunted, pushing his speed to its limits. He thanked Wilo above that the floors had not been Worked to a perfect sheen, so smooth that his paws would have little purchase. As it was, the small roughs and dips, crevices and bumps, allowed him to blaze down the passageway at dangerous speeds. Only the click of his nails against the hard stone betrayed his passing. He strained his eyes to make out his path. General Biligrim had smothered the mage-light as soon as he perceived the danger, so Masis now careened headlong with nothing to see by. In dim conditions, his eyes showed a world as crisp and open as high noon. In no light, however, he held no advantage.

He almost had convinced himself that he could make out the floor, but then he nearly stumbled and that told him otherwise. He held no illusions about the walls. Relying entirely on his nose, he eased from one side to the next if the solid smell of stone became too strong.

Nose trained forward, Masis kept his mindeye firmly focused behind him.

The wightie had been some distance off when he had first detected it. He just silently prayed that it had not seen the mage-light or detected the general's lifelight. Wishing for both seemed rather greedy and foolishly optimistic.

He pushed on, no way to gauge his speed.

As soon as he fled down the right tunnel, his mindeye's line of sight of the nightling had disappeared. The stone blocked his Sight completely. The longer the creature did not appear at the entrance of his chosen path the better. They needed distance, but even that would not protect them for long considering their enemies speed.

Please, let this be the right way, pleaded Masis to himself or any other entity that could hear his thoughts.

He strained his ears to detect some miniscule evidence—a rush of wind, a squeak of some animal, anything—that the outside world existed at the end of this route. Nothing even so much as tickled his eardrum, except his own panted breath and clicking toes.

The wight bloomed back into his mindeye.

Please, don't choose this tunnel, willed Masis. Don't choose this one. Not this one.

It moved off to the left and disappeared, once again obscured by the stone.

It must be checking the other tunnels, he thought, pushing himself forward. That would not take long.