Forest Kingdom Trilogy 3 - Down Among the Dead Men

unpleasant to the eye. Jack winced at the sight of it. Even with his senses muffled, he could feel the power in the sword. Magic roared and raged in the long blade, barely contained by ancient spells, and without even knowing what the power was, Jack knew it was evil.
    He also had a strong feeling that just possibly the sword was alive, and aware.
    Hammer stepped forward, and the great sword leapt out and into the center of the web. Milky white streamers frayed out into the air as the trembling web tried to draw back from the glowing blade. The longsword burrowed deep into the heart of the webbing like a hound hot on a scent, dragging Hammer along behind it, and where the glowing blade touched the web, the thick milky stuff decayed and fell away as strands of rotting gossamer. The web boiled, heaving and bubbling, throwing out long arms and streamers as though it could run from what was destroying it.
    Hammer moved slowly forward, his face twisted with distaste at the stench of rotting tissues, and the sword burned a bitter yellow. He swept the blade back and forth, and the web fell apart in rotting clumps. Dark creatures stumbled forward, lurching out of the milky heart of the web—patchwork things of bone and horror, obscene unliving puppets manipulated by the web. They threw themselves at Hammer, bony hands reaching out like yellowed claws, only to rot and fall apart as the glowing blade caressed them in passing, releasing the long dead bones from servitude to the web.
    The corridor was nine feet high and eight feet wide, and the webbing had filled it for fifteen feet. When Hammer finally came to a halt and looked back, all that remained were a few blackened streamers hanging still and lifeless from the walls and ceiling, and a scattering of old bones on the bare flagstones, at peace at last. Hammer looked at his sword. The long blade was glowing brightly with the same yellow sheen as a corpse fire on a cairn.
    “You damned fool,” said Wilde quietly. “That’s Wolfsbane, isn’t it?”
    “Yes,” said Hammer. “It is.” He thrust the longsword back into its scabbard. The sword slid slowly into place, as though reluctant to be sheathed.
    Jack checked the candle in his lantern. Somehow he’d managed to hold onto it through all the excitement, and miraculously, the candle was still alight. Wilde retrieved his torch from the wall bracket, and then glared suddenly at Hammer.
    “I thought that hellsword was lost in the Demon War,” he said harshly.
    “It was. I found it.”
    “Then keep away from me, Hammer. Keep well away.”
    “What’s the matter, Wilde? Frightened?”
    “Of that thing? Yes. So would you be, if that sword hadn’t already got its hooks into you.”
    Jack didn’t know what they were talking about, and decided that for the moment at least he really didn’t give a damn. The web was dead, along with its creatures, but there were other dangers. And much as the longsword worried him, he was more concerned with finding the gold and getting the hell out of the fort before the Rangers found them. He said as much and Hammer nodded.
    “You’re right. Since you were stupid enough to let yourself be seen, the Rangers could still be searching the fort for you, and we can’t afford to be found. If they’re anywhere nearby, they couldn’t have missed hearing us. We’d better find a secure place and lie low for an hour or so; give things a chance to settle down again.”
    “Are you crazy? I’m not staying in this godforsaken place one minute longer than I have to.” Wilde glared unflinchingly at Hammer, his hand clenched into a fist around his bow. “You saw the web; those creatures are supposed to be extinct, ever since the Tanglewood was destroyed during the Demon War. If this fort is going to be full of things like that, things that shouldn’t even exist, then I say we get the hell out of here right now, before something really nasty comes crawling out of the woodwork.”
    “You disappoint me, Edmond,” said Hammer. “You really do. Look at you. I can remember when you were part of the Royal Guard itself. You killed the rebel Bladesmaster, Sir Guillam, and stood with the king in the last great battle of the Demon War. And now all you can do is flap that stupid mouth of yours and jump out of your skin every time you see a shadow move.”
    “I remember those times too,” said Wilde steadily. “I was younger then, and believed all the lies they told me about honor and duty. I know