It was narrow, maybe six feet across at most, timber-framed and long, close to a hundred feet from bank to bank. The wood was old. Gray. Weathered smooth in places and splintered in others. Several planks on the near side sagged under their own weight, dark with rot and soft.
The middle of the bridge was gone, a clean thirty-foot gap where only the narrow side beams remained. The river was far below. Forty-five feet at least.
White water churned and flowed around rocks. Both banks dropped steeply, slick rock and mud with no clear path down and no chance of crossing without the bridge.
Dammit, dammit, dammit.
:: System: It appears Stan will have repairs completed shortly.
That’s what I’m afraid of.
Stan was out on the near side of the gap, crouched low, focused on his work. What remained of the side rails on this side were already down, stacked to one side. Every second or third plank was missing now as well, leaving an uneven pattern of gaps and solid footing. He worked fast, hands moving with practiced ease, pulling tools from inventory as needed.
Cedric was working to fortify the ground at the bridge entrance.
Sharpened stakes jutted up from the dirt angled outward. The beginnings of a shallow ditch cut across the approach, fresh earth piled into a low wall behind it. If finished it would funnel inward, forcing anything coming from the forest to hit one narrow opening before the bridge itself.
Off to one side, Jo swung an axe into a fallen limb. The crack of wood cutting through wood cut across the roar of the river. She worked quickly, chopping branches down to size and dragging them back toward Cedric. Sweat darkened her hairline and her breathing was heavy, but she didn’t slow.
Harry took it all in.
He stretched his Blood Sense into the forest behind him, quiet for the moment. The venomstalkers were out of his range to see clearly. But only barely. He could feel them moving closer.
He drew a breath, wiped his face with the back of his hand, and stepped forward.
- Harry: I’m here. I think we have ten or fifteen minutes.
- Stan: That’s not enough.
- Harry: Where should I help?
- Cedric: Sir Harold, could you finish this trench?
Harry walked up to Cedric and took the shovel when it was offered. He sank the blade into the dirt, lifted out a heavy scoop, and tossed it onto the growing wall.
He paused and looked back.
Jo was a few paces off, axe rising and falling in a steady rhythm, chips flying with each strike. Farther out on the bridge, Stan worked with a hammer and crowbar, levering up planks and knocking loose nails.
Harry glanced back at Cedric. “Did Stan summon all these tools?”
Cedric nodded, “He says they will last an hour and vanish.”
“Long enough.” Harry set the shovel again, dug once more, and stopped. He straightened and turned toward the bridge.
- Harry: Stan. Come here a second.
Stan looked up and carefully moved back, stepping from plank to plank.
“Oi, what d’ya need?”
Harry pulled the wand from inventory and held it out. The wood was pale and gray. “This came off the Ancient Desiccant. You’re the only one with mana, I’m hoping you can use it.”
Stan took it, turned it over, and muttered under his breath. His eyes unfocused for a moment. “Inspect.”
He whistled low. “Right, it’s a level three Wand of Winter’s Touch. Has five charges. Say ‘Algid’ and it eats five mana.”
Harry nodded. “Keep it.”
Stan grinned and tucked the wand away. “Aught’a come in right handy.”
Harry focused on his Blood Sense. The first groups were coming into range, two hundred yards off, but moving slow.
“They’ll be here soon,” Harry said. “We’ll need that bridge.”
Stan was already moving back toward the gap, crowbar appearing in his hand as he reached the planks.
Harry watched him go for a beat, brought the shovel up, and went back to digging.
As he worked Harry kept part of his attention on his Blood Sense. When he guessed they were almost close enough to feel their movement and hear their work he alerted the others.
“They’re coming,” he said.
Jo moved at once, dropping the last stick she was cutting and crossing to the bridge. She moved twenty feet out and stepped around to find the best platform. Zephyr came up smoothly and an arrow appeared in her hand.
Cedric took position at the foot of the bridge. Spear in his right hand and shield strapped to his left arm. At his feet were ten of Harry’s remaining spears. He nudged the pile with his boot, easy reach, laid out flat so he wouldn’t trip when things got bad.
Harry stepped forward to the opening they’d left, several feet ahead of Cedric, right where the ditch narrowed and the stakes forced everything inward. It wasn’t wide enough for more than one to come through cleanly.
He slid his shield up his arm and took Cedric’s hammer from inventory. He had borrowed it earlier while they worked on the defenses. Underwyck’s Maul settled into his hands with a solid weight. Heavy head. Long haft. Balanced for crushing blows rather than finesse.
He rolled his shoulders and felt the extra strength settle in, the hammer’s magic folding into his grip.
This wasn’t about mastery. He wasn’t trying to be elegant.
He planted his feet, squared himself to the gap, and waited.
The first group broke from the trees in a tight knot of five.
They slowed at the edge of the clearing, heads bobbing on their long necks as they took in the ditch, the stakes, the narrow opening. Orange-striped throats flared as they shifted.
A breath later they came in.
The lead one charged straight down the center. The next two crowded each other, legs and bodies scraping wood as they tried to force through the stakes together.
Harry focused and his vision slowed.
The charging venomstalker lunged, head snapping forward, fangs flashing. Harry stepped to the side, took one long step in, and brought the hammer down in a full overhand arc. The blow landed between its shoulders with a dull, crushing thud. The creature folded in on itself and slammed into the dirt, legs collapsing beneath it.
Behind it, the two tangled at the stakes hissed and writhed, still trying to free themselves.
The last one broke wide.
It skittered along the edge of the fortifications and sprang, clearing the stakes in a single leap, body stretched long and low, angling for Cedric.
Jo’s bow came up.
“I got this one,” Cedric called, stepping under it.
Jo lowered the bow as Cedric moved, planting himself directly beneath the arc of the jump. He set the butt of his spear hard into the ground and angled the tip.
The venomstalker came down on it.
The spear punched up through its chest. With a loud hiss, all eight legs spasmed as claws raked the air. Cedric leaned into the shaft, twisted his wrists, and tipped the impaled body away from the bridge. He yanked the spear free and scraped the still-convulsing thing off the point.
It tumbled down the far side of the defenses out of sight.
- Cedric: They are not used to armed prey.
- Harry: Small mercies.
- Cedric: Let us hope they are slow learners.
Harry had glanced back to watch Cedric dispatch the jumper and turned back toward the opening as the other two finally tore themselves loose.
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One of the two peeled away and circled wide along the edge of the defenses. The other stayed on Harry, advancing with care. Its head bobbed and wove, neck drawn back, coiled to strike.
Harry took two long steps and jumped.
The venomstalker backed a half step and snapped forward. Its head shot out and caught Harry on the leg. Fangs sank in deep, venom pumping fast.
Harry came down with the hammer raised high behind his head, both hands locked on the haft. He dropped his full weight into the swing.
The head of the maul smashed into the center of the venomstalker’s back. Bone gave with a wet crunch. The spider legs collapsed at once, folding under it. The head snapped away, tearing free and ripping the fangs out of Harry’s leg.
Harry ignored the wound. The healing from the venom was already working, heat spreading as his skin and muscles pulled back together. Harry rolled his shoulder, reset his grip, and turned to see where the last one had gone.
It had run wide, skittering to the end of the defenses where the ground dropped away. It launched itself into the air toward Jo, legs spread wide as it cleared the gap and sailed out over the bridge.
Jo snapped Zephyr up and loosed.
The arrow struck high in the chest with a solid thunk as the venomstalker rose. The hit alone wouldn’t have stopped it, but the charge it carried with it did. Lightning rippled across its body. The creature spasmed, legs flailing, its trajectory breaking apart mid-leap.
It missed the bridge completely and vanished over the side, the sound of the river swallowing it a heartbeat later.
“Oh yeah,” Jo laughed. “Did you see that? Tell me you saw that.”
“I saw,” Harry called back. “Nice shot, Jojo.”
He pushed his Blood Sense out again.
Threads were moving fast now, converging from multiple directions. Not one group.
Three. Coming in together.
They emerged from the treeline and rushed in, bunching at the opening and forcing their way forward.
Harry stayed on the hammer.
Each swing was timed in that stretched, sharpened moment where everything slowed just enough. He lifted, set, and brought it down in brutal arcs, crushing bodies where they tried to force through. Bone cracked. Fur and scale burst apart. The space in front of him filled with wreckage.
Cedric caught whatever slipped past or forced any back that tried to climb over the wall and stakes. Sometimes he reached over Harry’s shoulder, spear darting in to drive a venomstalker back to give him room for another swing. He lost several spears in bodies as they fell back over the defenses.
Jo kept shooting.
Anything that leapt, anything that tried to clear the defenses, got an arrow. Some aimed for her, others for Cedric. More often than not the shots landed as they rose into the air. Even though the arrows didn’t kill, the lightning continued to work, snapping bodies off course, ruining jumps, dropping them short or sending them tumbling away.
The ground in front of Harry turned ugly. Black fur. Broken legs. Twisted necks. Blood pooling under his boots. Bodies piling up high enough that new ones had to scramble over their own dead. He’d lost count of how many bites he had taken. The only vitae he spent was to put points into strength, the better to kill or cripple with one hit.
With his Blood Sense Harry saw more and more coming out of the trees.
- Harry: Stan, how much longer?
- Stan: Almost there.
Their defenses were totally surrounded. More and more trying to climb over the barriers.
Two on the end jumped for Jo at the same time.
She dropped one out of the air with a snap shot. The other landed hard on the bridge and came straight at her, head low, neck whipping side to side.
Jo held the bow with both hands and blocked the snapping jaws as the venomstalker drove into her.
“A little help!”
Cedric was already moving.
He sprinted onto the bridge, narrowly avoided stepping into an opening left by Stan, and thrust, spearhead punching into the creature’s flank. It hissed and tried to turn on him, but Cedric kept driving, boots sliding on wood as he leaned his weight in and shoved.
The venomstalker went over the side along with his spear.
Jo had the bow back up before Cedric turned back. She loosed again and another shape dropped out of the air, lightning tearing through it as it fell.
Cedric ran back, scooped up another spear, and planted himself behind Harry just as the next wave hit the opening.
The bodies were so stacked it was hard to swing the hammer.
Broken legs and crushed torsos formed a low, shifting wall. Harry growled under his breath, shoved the maul into inventory, and drew a sword.
He took a step back and cut a venomstalker trying to claw its way over the pile. The strike opened it along the neck and shoulder. It recoiled, lost its footing, and slid back down over the heap.
With his Blood Sense something new caught Harry’s attention.
Not venomstalkers. These threads were thicker. Heavier. Moving fast.
A series of loud, tearing yowls ripped through the forest behind the venomstalkers. The sound hit like a hammer blow, raw and furious. Shapes crashed into the rear of the mob.
“Mama cat sent help!” Jo called.
Hexapumas burst out of the trees, half a dozen of them, all muscle and teeth. They hit the venomstalkers from behind, huge paws sweeping low and wide. Bodies flew. Stalkers cartwheeled through the air or slammed into the dirt hard enough to stop moving.
The pressure at the front shifted as the venomstalkers turned, hissing and shrieking as they surged away from the defenses toward the new threat.
Harry didn’t wait to see how it played out.
He turned and crowded into Cedric’s space. “Back up onto the bridge. Hurry.”
Cedric moved at once, stepping back without argument. Jo was already retreating, boots thudding on wood as she shifted to make room.
Harry stayed between them and the opening, sword up, watching the chaos unfold behind the shifting mass.
Several venomstalkers continued leaping for them as they backed up. Jo didn’t stop shooting. Each jump got an arrow. Bodies jerked mid-air, lightning snapping through them as they fell short or tumbled off the side.
Harry slid into Cedric’s place at the base of the bridge.
- Harry: Stan, how long?
- Stan: Now, now! One at a time.
- Harry: Cedric you first.
Cedric squeezed past Jo and started down the bridge, boots careful on the uneven planks. Jo shifted aside just long enough to let him through, bow never lowering.
From the bridge, Harry watched the fight behind the swarm.
The hexapumas broke away as one, running the back edge of the venomstalker pack. They raked as they went, huge paws tearing through fur and scale, bodies flung aside in their wake. A moment later they vanished back into the trees.
About half the venomstalkers peeled off after them, hissing loudly as they gave chase.
The rest turned back.
Too many. Close to thirty.
Harry shoved the sword back into inventory and drew two daggers. The defenses were gone now, swallowed under bodies. Venomstalkers poured over the dead, claws scrabbling, necks weaving as they came on.
He planted his feet at the bridge entrance, daggers up, and waited.
When they came in, he turned and twisted to let their blows land on his shoulders and legs, using their attacks so he could get inside their reach. A dagger went down hard onto a skull. Another slid up under a jaw, right where the head met the neck. The scales were thinner there. Weaker. He drove the blade in, twisted, and ripped it back out. Heads tore loose, hanging by meat and spine as bodies toppled away.
Some went over the edge before he could free the blade. Half his remaining daggers vanished with them. Each time, his hand dipped to empty air and came back with another.
He kept backing up.
The bridge began to move under him. A slow, uneasy sway that crept up through his boots and into his legs.
He stepped back again, careful now, eyes flicking down to place his feet on what planks were still solid.
A dozen feet out, he glanced down. He was now just out over the water.
The river roared far below. White water and rock and nothing else. The gap yawned under him and his body locked up, instinct clamping down hard.
He couldn’t take another step. The nausea rose and he felt his extra strength drain away.
A venomstalker slammed into him, the impact driving him backward. He went with it, twisted and used its own momentum to hurl it out over the side.
His foot slipped.
For a heartbeat there was nothing under it. Open air. The bridge swaying away from him.
He windmilled once, found wood, and snapped his weight back under him. The plank creaked but held.
Harry sucked in a breath, daggers still up, river roaring below him as the next shapes came scrambling over the bodies onto the bridge.
- Jo: Harry, come on!
- Harry: I…
Harry moved a step toward the stalkers. Back toward nice safe, dry ground.
:: System: Where are you going, Harry?
I can take them.
:: System: On three Harry. Turn and run. You can do it.
Dammit, System.
:: System: One.
I hate you so much right now.
He retreated a step back out onto the bridge.
Another venomstalker rushed him, head bobbing and weaving. Harry was still able to see its movement in slow motion but it was hazy. Harry left an opening to bait it in. It darted its head at Harry’s exposed leg. He lashed out and drove a dagger straight into its eye and shoved, putting his weight into his shoulder. The body went over the side, spider legs flailing as it vanished.
:: System: Two.
No. No, no, no.
The next stalker leapt high, aiming to crash down onto him.
Lightning wrapped around it as Jo’s arrow hit, the charge snapping through its body. It spasmed and tumbled away.
- Jo: Harry! I’m out of arrows. Come on!
:: System: Three.
Harry turned.
He squinted his eyes to keep the river out of his head and moved. Fast, short steps from plank to plank. His arms windmilled as the bridge swayed under him, boards creaking and shifting with every footfall.
He was halfway across Stan’s patchwork when the impact slammed into his back.
The world tipped.
Wood vanished under his feet and the bridge rolled away as he went over the side, the roar of the river rushing up to meet him.
***
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