Upon the road ahead a glowing figure had appeared, almost 7 feet high, black wings spreading from its shoulders, like a massive cloak fluttering in the breeze.
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The face was dark, wide at the brow, narrow at the chin, an inverted black triangle with a wide gash of a mouth, and high slanted eyes, burning like coals.
‘It is only an image,’ whispered Ulmenetha. But Nogusta did not hear her. He drew a throwing knife and hurled it with all his might. The blade flashed through the dusk air, cutting through the apparition and clattering to the road beyond.
‘You cannot harm me, human,’ said the demon. The black wings spread wide and it rose into the air, floating close to the wagon. The creature peered inside, his gaze fixed to the babe carried by Axiana. Sufia screamed and buried herself under some blankets. The horses were growing uneasy. The demonic creature hovered for a moment, then drew back. ‘It is not necessary for you all to die,’ he said. ‘What will it achieve? Can you stop me? No. Why then do you struggle on? Behind you – oh so close behind you – are my Krayakin. Ahead is a gogarin. Do you need me to explain the nature of such creatures? Or do the legends persist?’
‘It was a beast with six legs,’ said Nogusta. ‘It was said to weigh as much as three tall horses.’
‘Five would be closer,’ said the apparition. He floated close to Nogusta, the burning eyes glittering. ‘Yes, you look like him,’ he said, and Nogusta could feel the hatred in the voice. ‘The last of his mongrel line.’ He moved away again. ‘But I was speaking of the gogarin. It is a creature unlike all others upon this earth. Eternally hungry it will eat anything that lives and breathes. Nothing can approach it, for it radiates terror. Strong men fall to their knees at its approach, spilling their urine to drench their leggings. You cannot defeat it with your pitiful spears. I watched you flee from it earlier today. You, at least, understand what I am saying. Your heart
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was beating like a war drum – and that was without seeing the beast. Soon you will see it. And then you will all die.’
‘What is the alternative you offer?’ asked Nogusta.
‘Merely life. For you have already lost. Had you the smallest chance of success I might offer riches, or perhaps even an extra hundred years of youth. I know that would appeal to your bald friend. But I need offer nothing more. The babe is mine. Leave it and its mother by the roadside. Then you can travel on to wherever you choose. My Krayakin will not harm you, and I will draw the gogarin back from this place. You also have my word that no harm will befall the queen.’
‘I do not believe you,’ said the warrior.
‘I do not blame you for that,’ the apparition told him, ‘but it is the truth. I can also say that I will not be displeased should you reject my offer. You cannot stop me taking the babe, and it will give me great pleasure to see you die, Nogusta. Your ancestor – of cursed memory -visited a great evil upon my people, ripping their souls from the joys of this planet, and consigning them to an eternity of Nothing. No breath, no touch of flesh upon flesh, no hunger, no pain, no emotion – no life!’ The apparition fell silent for a moment, and seemed to be struggling to contain his anger. ‘Ride on,’ he said, at last. ‘Ride on and die for me. But do you really wish to take your friends to their deaths? They do not carry your blood guilt. They did not betray their race. Do they not deserve a chance to live?’
‘My friends can speak for themselves,’ said Nogusta.
The winged demon floated close to Bison. ‘Do you wish to live?’ he asked him. Ignoring the demon Bison lifted his buttocks from the driver’s seat and broke wind thunderously.
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‘By Heaven, that’s better,’ he said. ‘Are we moving on, or what?’
‘I think we should,’ said Ulmenetha, ‘the stench is overpowering.’