When Ravens Call: The Fourth Book in the Small Gods Epic Fantasy Series (The Books of the Small Gods by Bruce Blake (ebook reader with highlight function TXT) 📕

They'd drawn close enough for him to make out colors, shapes, sizes. The biggest of the creatures resembled nothing he'd seen; thick legs, wide heads, green-tinted flesh or fur. Some moved upright, but most ran on four feet. Amongst them scampered smaller animals, many unfamiliar, others he recognized from drawings, and a few he'd encountered before: deer, bear, big cats. Several of the beasts appeared as though they should be predator and prey, yet they traveled together, stampeding across the meadow, bent on running down the prince and his companion.

The last thing Teryk noticed before panic and self-preservation took over and made him drag Rilum onward were the small men. Gray-skinned and unclothed, most of them ran with the animals while others rode atop creatures. He gasped and turned his gaze away, looking forward to the forest bordering the meadow ahead of them.

If we make it, we can find somewhere to hide.

It might not mean their safety, but maybe their survival.

The tramp of the sailor's footsteps behind him found his ears, but he didn't wait to see how close he followed to help him. He may be the only other person in this land, but a scroll written by an ancient hand mentioned one savior, not more.

I have to survive.

Teryk pushed himself harder and found himself thankful for the training Trenan had forced upon him throughout his youth. Many times he'd hated it and most often thought the running he made him do pointless. Now, for the first time in his life—and most likely the last—his throbbing thighs and burning lungs appreciated the relentless coaching and drilling.

The forest ahead drew closer as the rumble grew around them. They'd come near enough for Teryk to identify individual tree trunks, discern the leafy ones from the evergreens, but close enough they'd make it before the behemoths trod them into the ground? Tall grass whispered against his legs, coaxed him on. Teeth clamped, he pushed himself harder, willing himself to move faster.

The shadows of the first trees fell on Teryk, cooling him, though he suspected it might be mere perception rather than reality. Two rapid heartbeats later, he found himself amongst the narrow trunks of the leafy saplings leading to the forest proper. He weaved his way through them, aware of Rilum's presence close behind him. The sailor—used to shipboard duties, not sprinting across fields—huffed labored breaths, heavy feet beat the ground, but he maintained his pace at the prince's back.

The grass between the trunks grew sparse, replaced by low shrubs and tangled brambles as the forest itself became more dense. Wider-trunked evergreens took up space between the smaller trees, forcing them out and turning the woods into a labyrinth of brush and tree. Fallen limbs scattered around the ground further impeded their progress, and Teryk paused long enough to peek back behind them.

No animals followed them—big ones, small ones, furred, fleshed, and every color no longer appeared in the meadow. Nothing but the gray men remained, but neither did they chase Teryk and Rilum. They'd stopped at the edge of the smaller trees where the grassland ended and the forest began.

Teryk slowed, then halted. Rilum avoided running into him by dodging at the last second, twisting his body to avoid colliding with his companion. He skidded to a halt beside the prince and spun around to see what gripped his attention. The sailor's breath clicked in his throat.

"Where...?" He trailed off, the question left incomplete.

The small gray men ran back and forth along the boundary of grass and forest, arraying themselves in a line. A few remained separate from the others, and the prince heard their voices carried on the still air. Their individual words dissipated, bleeding together and making it impossible to tell if they spoke the same tongue as him.

"What's happening?" Rilum found his voice again.

Teryk waved a hand to quiet him. "I don't know," he whispered.

Thoughts and feelings, sense and emotion battled within the prince. The sensible part of him begged for them to flee, disappear into the forest and get as far away from these unusual men as possible. But the emotional side refused to let his legs retreat from the threat. He sensed an import to the happenings here, an event of unimaginable significance, though he hadn't a clue what or why he should think it the case. Rilum tugged on his sleeve, not feeling the same thing.

"Let's get our asses away from here," he said, his tone a forceful whisper.

"We don't know what happened to the animals."

"So? If they're not bein' here, then they ain't no danger to us."

Teryk faced the sailor. "What if they are circling around behind?"

Rilum's expression turned slack and frightened. "More reason to get the hell outta this place."

"It's too late." He shook his head and took a tentative step back toward the meadow and the lengthening line of gray men; they numbered far more than he'd thought.

"Where are you going?"

The prince didn't answer, instead taking two more steps away from Rilum, choosing his footing to avoid making noise. His companion huffed an exasperated sigh loud enough to negate Teryk's care if anyone listened, but no one did. The small gray men continued forming their line with no pause or hesitation.

Battle line?

Their behavior suggested they readied themselves, but for what? The animals appeared to have vanished into empty air, but they'd posed no threat to these unusual fellows. No, they prepared for something else.

Teryk crept closer, slinking around a bush with wide, bronze-tinted leaves, stepping over a branch fallen from a nearby tree, pale green lichen covering its bark. As he neared them, he realized the gray people stood no taller than half the height of an average man, with little variation in size from one to the next. Some broader