Free Dragonsbane (Book 3) by Shae Ford Page B

from the shelter, nearly bent double under the weight of their packs.
    “Kael?”
    “Over here, Baird!” He grabbed the bard by his knobby wrist and latched him onto the hem of his tunic.
    Silas growled again. His full furry head stuck out from the brambles, now. And Kael knew by the way his whiskers bunched up around his nose that he was getting impatient. “All right, we’re coming.”
    “Coming where?” Baird said from behind him.
    “Going, I mean,” Kael said quickly. “We’re moving on.”
    “Why?”
    Kael wasn’t sure. “Just march, will you?”
    Silas moved effortlessly through the trees, and Kael had to walk quickly in order to keep the flicking end of his tail in sight — a task made more difficult by the fact that he had Baird dragging down on his tunic.
    They’d gone several yards when Silas came to a halt. He turned back, facing the direction they’d come, and crouched.
    Kael mirrored him. Orange light from their fire glowed faintly through the hairline cracks in the rotted shelter. Now that evening had darkened it, he thought the monstrous tree looked a bit like a log glowing in a hearth.
    Just when he was about to ask Silas what they were waiting for, a large shadow passed above the shelter. It floated across the toppled tree, its blackened skin eclipsing the fiery cracks.
    For a long moment it did nothing but circle. Kael lost track of how many times the shadow went around. Then without warning, it disappeared … and something far more troublesome took its place.
    He heard their heavy footsteps before he saw them: three monstrous, hunched creatures — three devils of the night. They lumbered up to the shelter, dragging themselves forward on their front claws while their backs followed at a hop. One by one, they slipped inside. Kael could see their shadows moving around as they searched.
    Baird must’ve been able to sense that something was wrong. He spoke at hardly a whisper. “What is it?”
    Kael’s tongue stuck to the back of his throat. “Monsters,” he choked.
    “What sort? Trolls? Goblins?”
    “Worse.” Kael watched in horror as one of the monsters trotted out with Baird’s sopping cloak gripped in its jaws. It swung the garment about violently. He could hear the faint ripping of thread at it broke across the seams.
    Somehow, Kael forced himself to turn. “We should …”
    But the space beside him was empty. Silas was gone.
    The other two monsters loped from the shelter and joined their companion. They growled to one another as they tore at the cloak. He could hear their sharp breaths as they dragged their noses across the wool. Then all at once, they stopped.
    The monsters’ heads swiveled behind them and they took off at a gallop, panting loudly as they vanished into the shadows cast by the trees.
    It was only after they’d gone that Kael realized just how tightly he’d been clenching his fists. He knew they had to get moving. They needed to find Kyleigh. Where in Kingdom’s name had she run off to?
    When he turned, he saw Baird’s mouth parted slightly beneath his beard, as if he’d been about to say something. “What is it?”
    “I … that is …” He licked his lips. “Do you ever get the feeling someone is … watching you?”
    Baird spoke as if there was a hand clamped around his throat. His face went pale beneath his beard. His limbs stiffened with a dead man’s chill. Kael’s heart thudded in his throat as he leaned to peer over Baird’s shoulder.
    Two glittering eyes peered back.
    A monster crept out of the darkness. It looked exactly like the wolf monsters in Bartholomew’s Pass — except this creature was a mix between a man and a hound. The monster’s fingers were swollen around a set of short, dark claws. A saddle of black fur sprouted in uneven patches down its twisted back. The tattered remains of a tunic and chainmail hung across its chest. The links of the armor had melded into its skin, clinging like scales to its torso and shoulders.
    Kael