Night Rune (Prof Croft Book 8) by Brad Magnarella (best e reader for academics txt) 📕

chopping it in half. With a grunt, he wheeled and took off another creature’s reaching arm.

With my damaged hand, it took time to pocket my amulet, separate my cane into sword and staff, and then move the sword to my good hand.

Though tempted to activate the fire rune and torch the tanglers—and Kinloch Forest while I was at it—I didn’t want to compromise the fresh dose of potions already taking tingling effect in my system. Instead, I swung at the nearest tangler’s neck. The blade disappeared beyond a superficial layer of roots before being seized, twisted, and thrust out again.

“You’ve gotta put your body into it,” Bree-yark said.

He hacked through one of the tangler’s legs, dropping the creature to his own height, then demonstrated his point with a ferocious blow to the neck. I leaned back as the tangler’s head shot past.

“Like that,” he said.

I skipped around to confront another approaching tangler. But the goblin kicked the one he’d just dispatched, and in three running steps used its fallen form as a launch, thrusting with his thick legs. He caught impressive air and landed feet-first against the new tangler’s chest. As the creature toppled backward, it wrapped Bree-yark’s feet in roots. Anchored now, Bree-yark swung his blade like a lumberjack, one savage blow after another. By the time they reached the ground, the tangler was in pieces.

Bree-yark and I were fully cloaked now, leaving the final two tanglers groping in search of us. But rather than sneak away, Bree-yark saw it as an opportunity to go full bore. When he finished, he waded from their demolished bodies and peered around, his face glistening with goblin sweat in the fading glow of swamp light.

“Any more?” he panted.

“That was all of them.”

“And here I was just getting warmed up.” He returned to the path. “We make a good team, Everson.”

I was about to point out I hadn’t really done anything when a groan sounded, low and shuddering. And was it my imagination, or were the trees a lot closer than they’d been a couple minutes ago?

“You’re not gonna like this, Everson,” Bree-yark said, “but I think we’re standing on a Grumus.”

I stared at him to be sure I’d heard him right. When he nodded, we took off down the path. Within a few paces we were beyond the dying glow of the dismembered tanglers and buried in thick night. I heard the collision of a body against a tree trunk followed by Bree-yark staggering and swearing.

“It’s no damned good,” he complained. “Still can’t see a blasted thing.”

Another groan sounded. This time the trees shook around us. Grumuses were living entities found in the deepest forests of Faerie. They blended in by supporting the forests’ natural growth, but layers of roots and soil hid a vast digestive tract that was always hungry. And a Grumus’s mouth could open anywhere and very suddenly. The only reason it hadn’t yet was because we were cloaked.

“We’ve got to get off this thing,” I said.

“No kidding. But without a light, we’ll have to wait till morning.”

“You mean until whenever the forest decides it wants it to be morning?”

“More or less. And I wouldn’t be surprised if the forest and Grumus are in cahoots.”

I swore as I peered around the blackness. Beyond the trees, a banshee-like glow caught my eye. And it was coming our way.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Bree-yark saw it too. “Her again?”

“Either that or another glowy denizen of Kinloch.”

Suddenly, hobgoblin armies and stone giants playing boulder baseball felt like a day in the park compared to this never-ending nightmare. All we could do was remain still and hope that neither the Grumus nor our newest company drew a bead on us. With any luck, the forest would tire of night and switch to day again.

Bree-yark choked on a laugh. “I don’t believe it.”

“What?”

“It’s Dropsy.”

I squinted at the glow, not so sure. Before I could stop him, Bree-yark took off running down the path. I watched helplessly as my teammate closed the distance, my mind cycling through all the horrible things the light could be besides an enchanted lantern—banshee, wraith, will-o’-wisp…

As Bree-yark neared it, the light released a bright pulse, sending my heart into my mouth. It wasn’t until he lifted it up, and I could see his grinning teeth, that I relaxed.

“Would you look at her?” he said as he rejoined me. “Came all this way to find us.”

He held the lantern in the crook of an arm like he was cradling an infant, her light still pulsing excitedly.

“It’s amazing, and I’m grateful,” I said. “But can we coo over her later? We’re still on top of a frigging Grumus.”

Bree-yark straightened. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Follow me.”

He led the way at a run, the path seeming to unfurl in Dropsy’s enchanted light. I matched Bree-yark’s speed, one of my strides equaling roughly two of his, until we settled into a good pace. Behind us, the Grumus continued to moan. At one point I heard it rip open, as if mouthing blindly for us. But we eventually transitioned from creature back to forest, because the moaning and ripping stopped.

About two hours later, we passed a jumble of fallen stones. Bree-yark reared back suddenly, a forearm thrown to his face. I arrived beside him and swore as sunlight nailed my eyes too. Forming a visor with my hand, I blinked around. Behind us, the forest remained buried in enchanted darkness. But ahead, mountains and meadows were soaked in a stunning alpenglow of late-afternoon sunlight.

We’d made it to the other side.

“See those trees over there?” Bree-yark asked.

I followed his pointed finger down to where a distant lake glittered, a thick crescent of green wrapping its far shore.

“That’s where Crusspatch lives.”

14

By the time we reached the lake, the setting sun was transforming the sky into a stupendous canvas of pinks and purples that the lake’s placid surface caught and enhanced. To safeguard my mind, I focused on the narrow path that wound around the shore. As we approached the