Forest Kingdom Trilogy 3 - Down Among the Dead Men

other. For now.
    MacNeil wasn’t sure how he felt about Hammer, but he had no doubts about the longsword on Hammer’s back. Even without Constance to tell him, he felt sure he would have recognized the Infernal Device for what it was. This close, the sword grated on his nerves like an unending shriek in the still of the night. MacNeil wondered if Hammer really knew what he carried on his back.
    “You want the gold,” said MacNeil bluntly. “I’m more interested in the creature that’s down there with it.”
    “Creature?” said Hammer. “What creature?”
    MacNeil nodded at Constance. “Our witch has the Sight. She says there’s something old and nasty buried deep in the earth below us. It’s sleeping very lightly. She calls it the Beast. It’s responsible for everything that’s happened here.”
    “I take it you’ve already had some contact with this Beast,” said Hammer, nodding at the blood that soaked MacNeil’s clothing.
    “When we first opened the trapdoor, a fountain of blood came flying out. Gallons of the stuff. The tunnels under the cellar are dripping with blood.”
    Hammer frowned. “Where’s it all coming from?”
    “The Beast,” said MacNeil. “It knows what scares us.”
    Hammer nodded slowly. “So, a merger between your people and mine, to destroy the Beast. Right?”
    “Right.”
    “I see. And what exactly do I get out of this deal?” “For helping to recover the missing gold, you’d be entitled to a reward,” said MacNeil.
    Hammer smiled easily. “Why should I settle for a fraction of the gold when I could take all of it?”
    “Because you’d have to fight your way past both us and the Beast to get it, and the odds aren’t nearly as much in your favor as you like to think. Wilde’s good with a bow, but we’ve got the Dancer. And whilst your sword is undoubtedly impressive, you don’t have the faintest idea of what’s waiting for you in the tunnels under this cellar.”
    Hammer’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know about my sword?”
    “It’s an Infernal Device.”
    Hammer nodded slowly. “Yes. Wolfsbane.”
    “I thought that was lost in the Demon War.”
    “It was. I found it. Or it found me.” He shivered suddenly, and for a moment his eyes held a desperate, haunted look that vanished almost as soon as MacNeil recognized it. “All right, MacNeil, a joint venture. You seem to have the most experience with this Beast. What do we do first?”
    “First,” said MacNeil, “you and I go down through the trapdoor and see how the land lies.”
    Hammer gave him a hard look. “Just the two of us.”
    MacNeil smiled. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Hammer? Our witch says the Beast is sleeping. The two of us on our own might be able to creep up on it undetected. Besides … I don’t trust this fort. Strange things have been happening here. There’s always the possibility the Beast is using the gold as bait to lure us down to it. If that’s so, I don’t want us all down in the tunnels. It’s far too convenient a place for an ambush. I’ll feel a lot better knowing there’s someone up here guarding our backs.”
    “All right,” said Hammer. “Let’s do it.”
    MacNeil looked over to where Flint and the Dancer and Wilde were talking. They seemed to be getting on well enough. At least Wilde and the Dancer weren’t actually trying to kill each other.
    When MacNeil had first moved away to talk with Hammer, Flint found herself facing Wilde without any idea of what to say to him.
Keep him occupied
, MacNeil had said. But what the hell was there to say? This wasn’t the man she remembered from the last great battle of the Demon War. That man had been coarse and vulgar, even brutal on occasion, but he had also been brave and forthright and obsessively honest in his dealings with people. This new Wilde had a face grown tired and hard, with lines of practiced brutality etched clearly around the eyes and mouth.
    “You’re looking well, Jess,” said Wilde. “How long have you been a Ranger?”
    “Eight years. Maybe a little more. How long have you been an outlaw?”
    Wilde shrugged. “I’ve lost track. The years tend to fade into each other after a while.”
    “You never told me you knew Edmond Wilde,” said the Dancer to Flint.
    Wilde grinned. “Times change, eh, Jess? There was a time when people used to boast they knew me, even when they didn’t. Now even my friends disown me. Harsh old world, isn’t it?”
    Flint met his gaze steadily.