Free Mercury Mind (The Downfall Saga Book 1) by Chris Mccready Page B

did happen to me?”
    “Let’s wait until we’re back at Haven before discussing it.”
    Recognizing the tone of voice, Donovan didn’t pursue the subject any further.
    Retrieving their horses from the stable near the east gate, they headed out onto the empty road leading to Haven. After the hard ride which it had taken earlier in the day, Osmont insisted on a slow, plodding pace until his horse had warmed up again.
    The road looked different in the dark. The flat, open area on either side was a pale, placid river flowing between the dark, impenetrable banks formed by the Kenelm Forest. The night was clear and bright, a large moon hung in the sky.
    They were both leading their horses by the reins, enjoying the company of their own thoughts, when Osmont held out his hand. “Hold up, there’s something moving in the woods.”
    Donovan strained his eyes, trying to pierce the darkness, but couldn’t see anything. It took a few seconds to realize that he could hear something moving through the brush. It was moving slowly, not attempting to conceal its presence. It sounded like it was tearing its way through the underbrush.
    A figure emerged from the woods, ten yards ahead of their position. It looked humanoid but misshapen, its limbs were poorly proportioned to its body, and had an awkward, asymmetric build. It had a slow, shambling walk and sounded like stone grating on stone with every movement.
    A second figure emerged near the first and slowly turned to face them. The two figures methodically advanced towards them. As they neared, Donovan got a better look at them. The first one looked light grey in the moonlight, flecked with many small, black spots. Its body had the appearance of stone, sharp edged and crumbling. The second figure had diagonal dark and light banding running through its body like stripes. The edges were more rounded and smoother than the first. Their eyeless faces stared straight ahead, and moss was hanging off them like decaying flesh. The moonlight highlighted crude symbols carved into their hearts and the top of the head, the recesses lost in dark shadow. A puff of wind blew towards Osmont and Donovan, carrying the wet and musty smell of decay.
    “I have not seen a Clachward in many years,” said Osmont, his voice full of intrigue. “The rulers of old used them extensively but they’ve fallen out of practice, with men being much cheaper to hire. They are tough, highly resistant to physical and magical harm, mindless, but relentless. They can only follow the most rudimentary commands. Normally they were used to guard crypts and vaults, or to retrieve specific items or people.”
    “So what are they doing here?” asked Donovan.
    “I’ve never seen one in these parts before, let alone two,” said Osmont. “Unless you get in the way of them carrying out their orders, they will ignore you completely. If we weren’t so close to the capital, I’d sit here and let them go on their way, but I can’t have them scaring people.”
    “What can I do?”
    “You, nothing. You’d be like a flea trying to eat an elephant. Your best bet would be to run if you came across one on your own. Otherwise, they avoid light and intense heat. They bury themselves under the earth before the sun rises each day.”
    Handing the reins to Donovan to hold, Osmont advanced towards the Clachwards. Donovan stood there, holding his breath, waiting to see what would happen. Osmont stopped in front of the lead one, holding out his hand so that he was practically touching its chest, a ball of energy grew in his palms. It grew until it was too bright to look at, then shot into the Clachward chest. When the light disappeared into its chest, the area suddenly became inexplicably dark. A blast of air hit Donovan in the chest, followed by the sounds of an avalanche as the Clachward crumbled to the ground.
    Repeating the process, Osmont disintegrated the second one, before heading into the woods to check for more.
    Donovan remained