Forest Kingdom Trilogy 3 - Down Among the Dead Men

just hope the Beast isn’t having a nightmare.”
    The three men looked uncertainly at one another for a moment. Hammer’s hand rose halfway to the hilt of the longsword on his back, and then fell away. MacNeil swallowed dryly and coughed to clear his throat. He didn’t want the others to think his voice was unsteady through fear.
    “Let’s get moving. There’s no telling how long we’ve got before the Beast wakes, and we’re still no nearer finding the bodies or the gold.”
    “I’ve just had an unpleasant thought,” said Jack. “If we’re walking inside the Beast’s dream, what happens to this tunnel when the Beast wakes up?”
    MacNeil glared at him. “The next time you have an unpleasant thought, do us all a favor and keep it to yourself. How the hell am I supposed to know what will happen? The tunnel’s real enough for the moment, and that’s what matters. Now let’s go. We’re wasting time.”
    He strode off down the tunnel, and the others moved quickly after him. MacNeil held his lantern out before him, and the gentle glow showed him the tunnel stretching away into the gloom, sinking gradually deeper into the earth.
    MacNeil had always looked on fear as a weakness, and his own fear as a hidden shame. Fear was something you acknowledged but never gave in to. If there was a problem, you faced it, with force if necessary. If you couldn’t beat it, you retreated and tried again later. And went on trying until you did beat it. But real fear, the sheer, overwhelming terror that paralyzes you with dread … MacNeil had never felt that, and had nothing but contempt for those who had. But deep down he knew that wasn’t true. He had felt such a fear once, long ago during the long night when the demons came swarming out of the darkness in a never ending flood, throwing themselves against his sword again and again and again. He’d wanted to run then. And perhaps he would have if the dawn hadn’t come in time to save him. The Blue Moon had passed and the sun had risen and the demons had fallen back. But he had wanted to run… .
    Now he was back in the darkness again, surrounded by the stench of death and corruption, on his way to fight a creature older and more powerful than the demons had ever been. And this time, buried in the depths of the earth, there was no hope of any dawn to save him.
    Fear curled and writhed within him, twisting his gut and bringing a hot sweat to his face and hands despite the freezing cold. He could feel his hands shaking, and his breath was coming fast and jerkily. He was afraid, and all his experience and pride weren’t strong enough to drive that fear away. He wanted to turn and run, run back down the tunnel and up the stairs and into the fort and just keep on running until he’d left the border fort far behind him. He could do it. He could. No one would reprimand him if he chose to just report the situation to his superior officers and let them deal with it. There were those who’d say he’d done the only sensible thing. But he wouldn’t be one of them. He knew differently. Constance had said the Beast must be slain before it woke or it might be too late, and MacNeil believed her. He couldn’t run away. He had his duty and his honor, and as long as he had a sword and strength of arm to swing it, he would do what he knew to be right. No matter how scared he was.
    The tunnel’s descent gradually became more evident as the floor fell steadily away. MacNeil tried not to think about how deep under the fort they’d come. The thought of all that weight over his head was disturbing.
    “How deep does this go?” muttered Hammer. “We’ve been following this tunnel for ages.”
    “It’s not much farther,” said Jack. “We’re getting very close now.”
    MacNeil stopped suddenly, and the others stopped with him. He looked thoughtfully at Scarecrow Jack, an idea tugging at his mind.
    “Constance said you had … qualities that might help us. What kind of magic have you got, Jack? Do you have the Sight?”
    Jack shrugged. “I don’t think so. I just get feelings about things—about the Forest and what lives in it. And sometimes the trees give me some of their strength, to help me do what needs to be done. But only sometimes.”
    MacNeil looked at him steadily. “Do you have any feelings about this place? About the Beast?”
    “There’s something not far ahead of us,” said Jack, his eyes vague and thoughtful. “It’s sleeping, but it knows we’re coming.