Free The Undying God by Nathan Wilson

no—” Hrioshango protested, but
Arxu maneuvered the staff tip closer to his throat. The cold steel
made him recoil nervously. “Hrioshango is a chaos magician,” he
growled.
    The implied threat did not sway
Arxu.
    “You’re coming with me.”
     
    Chapter 9
     
    Arxu didn’t believe he could trust the
darkling, but it would aid him regardless. If it caused him any
danger, he would kill it without hesitation. He suspected the
creature entertained similar thoughts, and it would retaliate if
allowed the opportunity.
    Nishka struggled to her feet, eager to
follow them.
    “Nishka, you need to rest,” Arxu
said.
    “I can walk. I may not fight, but I
need to make sure we recover the cart.” As Arxu watched her depart,
he suspected the drug revitalized her. Nishka feebly navigated
between the trees, sometimes reaching toward a low branch for
support. Her balance failed once and she fell to her knees with a
grunt.
    “Nishka, you should return to the glen
and rest,” Arxu said as he took her arm.
    “Do you want to pick me up and carry me
back there? Because I’m not letting those creatures have the cart.”
Arxu could see it was pointless to dissuade her. He offered her his
walking staff. Nishka hesitated, afraid to touch the paranormal
object. Timidly, she reached out and accepted it with a nod of
gratitude.
    Hrioshango slinked through the
wilderness, casting furtive glances at the Nightwalker. He could
not bear the thought that this human had caught him in the midst of
his seductive ploy.
    In his mind, he had done nothing wrong;
he was only improving his chances that this woman would fall in
love with him. It was no use trying to explain this, he realized.
For this, his resentment toward the man was steadily growing.
Furthermore, he suspected this man’s power rivaled his.
    The stillness of the forest was eerie
and foreboding. Had they not known igliuhs dwelt there, they would
have assumed it was uninhabited. Spindly fir trees towered far
above them, their drooping limbs barbed with needles.
    The grove expanded, revealing hundreds
of trees decimated beyond the shadowy horizon. The chilling
spectacle extended for a distance, appearing pallid gray in the
night. The surreal sight taunted Nishka, as though something
nefarious was concealed just beyond the line of her sight. A veil
of ashes coated the wasteland, shifting like snow in the quiet
breeze.
    It was strangely peaceful, a land of
glistening dust dancing in flowing zephyrs. Nishka gasped as ashes
fell from a collapsed tree, like a heavenly rain that pierced the
mist. She lifted her face as ashes alighted on her skin, tickling
her eyelashes. The canopy faded into view like an intricate spider
web of bare branches, stealing Nishka’s breath away.
    Gradually, the ground softened, and
they could see trees rear over the horizon. Arxu slowed in his
steps, the pine needles snapping beneath his feet. Through the mist
he recognized the signs of a bonfire. Plumes of smoke stretched
lazily into the sky like a tempest gathering before
disaster.
    He abandoned the trail and drifted
among the trees that jutted from the earth like ancient obelisks.
Nothing dared move in the dark, but he could hear sounds in the
distance, low voices murmuring in the shadows, speaking in a
language Arxu could not comprehend.
    The igliuhs communicated only several
primitive ideas, none of which were pleasant. At last, they
returned to the site of attack and hid behind the trees. There were
more igliuhs, and they were fighting over the weapons. The igliuhs
had formed a campsite around the scavenged cart. A massive bonfire
crackled in the midst of the camp, and the donkey that had escaped
was being roasted over the flames.
    Armor and weapons were strewn across
the campsite. Igliuhs walked among the debris, protectively
wandering near their spoils. Two igliuhs roughly tugged on a
breastplate, neither one surrendering the prize. Nishka looked on
with fury.
    Arxu almost feared she would rise from
hiding.