Forest Kingdom Trilogy 3 - Down Among the Dead Men

said Jonathon Hammer, smiling slightly. “That’s what I heard.”
    That had been two weeks ago, and they were shaping up to be the worst two weeks of Jack’s life. More than once he contemplated just walking out on Hammer and Wilde, and disappearing back into the Forest, but he couldn’t. Scarecrow Jack was an honorable man, and he always paid his debts.
    Hammer and Wilde were finally ready to leave, and Jack led them back through the Forest to the border fort. The sooner this was over, the better he’d like it. And yet … in the end he hadn’t said anything, because they’d only have laughed, but there was definitely something wrong about the border fort. Something unnatural. He could feel it in his water. He decided to say nothing for the time being, but keep his eyes and ears open.
    He had a bad feeling his problems weren’t anywhere near being over.

CHAPTER 4
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Dreams in the Waking World
    The storm finally broke over the Forest. Thunder roared and lightning flared, and the rain came down in solid sheets, slamming through foliage and bouncing back from the Forest floor. Open trails quickly became a morass of mud and soaking mulch. Birds and animals shuddered in their lairs at the continuous pounding of the rain, and in all the Forest nothing moved save three determined outlaws, already soaked to the skin.
    The thunder rolled on and on, barely pausing long enough for the intermittent flashes of lightning that lit the Forest in stark black and white. The outlaws moved slowly from cover to cover, wading through deep puddles and treacherous mud, slipping and sliding and falling painfully until only Hammer’s will kept them moving. The moon was hidden behind dark clouds, and the party’s lantern light couldn’t travel far through the rain. Scarecrow Jack’s woodcraft was tested to the limit as familiar landmarks became strange and unfamiliar, but finally he brought them back to the edge of the great clearing. The three outlaws sheltered under a tree and studied the dim silhouette of the border fort through the driving rain.
    Jack ignored the cold and the wet; he was used to it. The rain soaked his rags and dripped continuously from his face, but beyond a certain point he simply didn’t feel it. He had an animal’s indifference for conditions beyond his control. Besides, judging from the way Hammer and Wilde had been reacting whenever they got downwind of him, it was probably time his rags had a good wash. He glanced at Wilde, standing miserably beside him, huddled inside a thin cloak. The rain had slicked the archer’s long hair down around his face, and in the dim light he looked not unlike a half-drowned river rat. He sniffed and shivered, and cursed continuously in a low monotone. He pulled up his cloak’s high collar to keep out the rain. It formed a kind of funnel that guided the rain down his neck and back. Hammer ignored the sudden rise in cursing, and glowered through the rain at the border fort. Like Jack, he seemed unaffected by the cold and the wet.
    “At least now we can be fairly sure there won’t be any guards on the battlements,” he said finally. “They won’t be expecting anyone to be abroad in weather like this.”
    “No one with any sense would be,” said Wilde. He sneezed dismally and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “How much longer do we have to stand around here? I’m catching my death in this rain.”
    Hammer looked at Jack. “Is this storm going to go off soon?”
    Jack looked about him and considered for a moment. “Unlikely. It may even get worse. This storm’s been building for a long time.”
    “All right,” said Hammer, “we go now. Stick close together. Whatever happens, no one is to go off on their own.”
    He looked about him one last time, hooded his lantern, and then ran across the open clearing toward the border fort, followed closely by Wilde and Jack. Out in the open the rain was coming down so hard it drowned out every other sound, and even with the lantern and the lightning it was hard to see anything more than a few feet away. Wilde lurched and slid in the mud, and Jack was hard put to keep him moving. Hammer was soon only a vague shadow in front of them, and there was no sign of the fort. Jack shuddered violently as the driving rain chilled him to the bone. The clearing seemed much wider than he remembered, and he began to wonder if Hammer had lost his bearings and led them past the fort. And then, finally, a massive stone wall loomed out of