Free The Eye of the Chained God by Don Bassingthwaite Page A

your ears. It’s like—”
    “—someone pulled the ground out from under you?” Tempest finished for him. The wizard’s discomfort was charming, but drawing it out would have felt like teasing a puppy. It was kinder to play along with his effort to change the subject. “I’ve felt it. Roghar and I confronteda priest of the Chained God in Nerath and she tried the same thing.” She gave Albanon a smile. “I wonder how that scream would work against a plague demon.”
    He hesitated for an instant, then returned the smile. “Maybe that’s what we’re going north to find out.” He wrinkled his nose. “Can you picture us screaming at Vestapalk?”
    Tempest laughed. “It would take more than us, I think. We’d need an army.”
    “How fast can you find one?” Splendid swooped down from above and resumed her perch on Albanon’s shoulder. This time, however, the little pseudodragon wrapped her wings tight around her body and coiled her stinger-tipped tail as if trying to present the smallest silhouette possible. She was trembling, her voice hushed. “There are plague demons watching us.”
    “What? Where?” Albanon started to turn to look, but Splendid bumped his chin, closing his mouth and stopping the movement.
    “Everywhere,” she said. “In the trees and the underbrush. They’re all around us.”
    Tempest risked a glance at the forest lining the road. Autumn had stripped some of the branches bare, but the others wore cloaks of red and brown leaves. The forest floor was carpeted the same way. Good camouflage for the red crystal that sparkled on the hides of plague demons. She looked over her shoulder at the others. Belen, Uldane, and Roghar rode beside each other. That trio seemed no more than typically wary, but riding justa little behind them, Immeral sat strangely stiff in his saddle. The huntsman had the most woodcraft of them all. He’d probably spotted the demons long before. If there were as many as Splendid suggested, he may have decided to keep that information to himself. Once the demons knew they’d been spotted, there would be no further reason to remain hidden.
    Without looking a second time at either the trees or her friends, she whispered her suspicion to Albanon. His brow creased. “You’re likely right,” he murmured back. “But what are the demons waiting for? They have us surrounded. Why don’t they attack?”
    “I don’t know,” Splendid whimpered. “Just pray that they don’t. There are too many of them!”
    Now that she knew the demons were there, Tempest started watching out of the corner of her eye. Over to one side, where a slow breeze stirred the leaves of a tree, she spotted something dark pressed against a branch. And on the ground, she caught sight of a misshapen head peering past a broken stump. A heap of leaves shivered when it shouldn’t have. She swallowed.
    “Splendid’s right,” she said. “And Immeral has the right idea, too. We need to keep riding. Whatever reason they have for not attacking, we should make the most of it.” She bit her lip. “But Roghar and the others need to know or they could provoke an attack.”
    “I can warn them.” Albanon twisted around in his saddle and reached for his saddlebag as if fishing for something. His gaze, however, went to their friends. Albanon’s eyesnarrowed in concentration and one finger flicked back toward the others.
    “Don’t react,” he whispered. “Plague demons are watching us. We’re going to keep riding unless they attack. Carry on as if nothing is wrong. Roghar, if you understand, start singing.”
    It was all Tempest could do not to look back herself. She kept her eyes on Albanon and the next three heartbeats seemed to stretch on forever.
    Then Roghar’s voice rolled along the road. “Oh, there was a knight of fair Belarn and a mighty knight was he—”
    “They’re warned,” said Albanon. He pulled a small bundle from his saddlebag and sat upright. “I think Immeral figured it out, too.