Angel Fire East by Terry Brooks

Ahead, he sees the shapes of trees through a haze that never clears. If he can make it to those trees, he may have a chance. Someone in the village has betrayed him, as someone always does. They depend on him, but they do not trust him. The magic he wields is powerful, but it is frightening as well. Sooner or later, someone always decides he is more dangerous than the once-men and the demons he battles. They arrive at the decision out of a misguided belief that by sacrificing him, they can save themselves. It is a condition of humankind brought about by the collapse of civilization. He has long since accepted it as the way of things, but he cannot get used to it. Even as he runs for his life yet another time, he is filled with anger and disgust for those he tries so hard to protect.

The sounds of pursuit are audible now, and he picks up his pace, making for the concealment of the trees. Once clear of the village and deep enough into the woods, he will be difficult to find. He is physically fit, toughened by his years of survival in the brave new world of the Void’s ascendancy. He is no longer hampered by the limp that shackled him in the old world, when the Word held sway. He knows how to flee and hide as well as how to attack and fight, and he will not be easily found. He remembers how little he knew of such things in his old life. He was a Knight of the Word then, too, but in the old world there was still hope. Bitterness colors his thoughts; if he had not failed in his efforts there, his survival knowledge would not be necessary here.

Feeders shadow him as he gains the tangle of the trees and melts into their darkened mass. They are always with him, hopeful that one day they will feed on him as they have fed on so many others. Everywhere he goes, they are drawn to him. He has come to accept this, too. He is a magnet for predators of all sorts, and the feeders are only the most pervasive of the breed. Sometimes they will challenge him, but they cannot stand against his magic. It is only now, when the magic is out of his reach, that they sense they have a chance. He tries to ignore the hunger that reflects in their eyes as they keep pace with him, but he does not completely succeed.

Behind him, screams begin to rise from the village. The demons and once-men are reaping their harvest of death, reducing the village to ashes and rubble. It is unavoidable. All communities of men, whether city fortresses or unwalled villages, are targeted for this end. The destruction of humankind is the goal to which the servants of the Void are pledged. It is a goal that will be attained one day in the not-too-distant future, even though a few like himself struggle still to prevent it. It will be attained because all chance of winning has been lost in the past, and the Word has been reduced to memory and lost in time.

There are movements on his left and right, and he realizes his hunters have flanked him, moving more quickly than he has expected. He slows and listens, trying to judge what he must do. But there is little time for speculation, and after a moment he plunges on, reduced to hoping he can outdistance them. He does not succeed. They come upon him moments later, one or two at first, crying out wildly as they discover him, quickly bringing more, until soon there are so many the trees are thick with them. Still he races on, zigzagging down ravines and up hills, knocking aside the few brave enough to challenge him alone. He tries to call up the magic, hoping that it has returned, that it has not forsaken him when he needs it most, but the magic does not respond.

They catch him in a clearing where there is room enough for them to come at him from all sides. He struggles ferociously, bringing to bear all of his considerable fighting skills, but his attackers overwhelm him by sheer numbers. He is thrown to the ground and pinned fast by many hands, the stench of the once-men thick in his nostrils, their eyes bright with expectation and fever. Feeders swarm over him, finding him helpless at last, already beginning to touch him, to savor the emotions he emits while trapped and helpless.

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