Trapped

Hold on. We’re not sacrifices. We’re just out looking for the handsomest caves in Greece and thought this was a likely one. «
    I shot some quick instructions to Oberon: When we fight, circle round behind him and bite him on the back of the hams .
    › Got it. ‹
    » You like my cave? « Agrios said, idly scratching his belly in confusion.
    » Oh, yeah. Love what you’ve done with the carrion. Most people don’t think of using carrion as an accent for their décor, but I think you’ve stumbled onto something special here. It’s trendsetting. «
    Granuaile whispered to me in Russian, » What are you doing? «
    » Knives only. Do not engage him, « I whispered back in the same language.
    The Thracian groused, » If you are so interested in décor, why do you come with a sword and a giant dog who growls at me? «
    I shrugged. » Sometimes people in caves are impolite. But I can tell you are civilized. «
    The bear threw back its head and laughed an ursine laugh.
    » Knife to the throat now, « I told Granuaile, and she had thrown it before I finished the sentence.
    Go , I told Oberon, and he charged around the creature’s side. I charged too, straight toward the outraged roar as the knife sank into his throat. I didn’t want him lumbering after Granuaile. Her staff would be of little use against such brute strength in close quarters, and her knives, however accurately thrown, were probably not enough to bring him down. Bear hide is tough, and the layers of fat serve as a sort of biological Kevlar.
    When Agrios lowered his head and charged me, Oberon was behind him. Instead of biting the creature in the back of the thigh, Oberon caught an ankle and yanked, stretching Agrios out until he did a face-plant in front of me. The fall drove Granuaile’s knife deeper into his throat and left me an ideal opportunity to take a free strike. I hacked down with Moralltach, expecting to end it there, but he rolled out of the way in a very human move and tore free of Oberon’s jaws. He ignored the hound and me and launched himself after Granuaile, who had nothing but wee irritating needles and a staff that he’d treat like a toothpick. I didn’t have an angle to cut him off in time.
    Oberon was faster than I was, and he snagged the guy by the ankle again. It didn’t halt his charge, but it slowed him down a bit, giving Granuaile a chance to toss another knife. It hit right between his eyes but didn’t penetrate into the skull and mess with his brain. Roaring, Agrios lunged at her again, dragging Oberon with him, but Granuaile twisted away and chose to tumble down the hillside, out of his claws’ range. That helped me, because now I could swing Moralltach without worrying about clipping her; the enchantment on its blade would spread necrosis through friend as easily as foe. Diving toward the creature before he could follow my apprentice downhill, I thrust Moralltach desperately at his side and managed to open a shallow groove in his flank. He bellowed and yanked his leg free of Oberon’s jaws again, trailing tendons and flesh. He wanted Granuaile more than anything. Using the three limbs that Oberon hadn’t savaged, Agrios grunted and leapt in a frantic attempt to break free of us. Victory erupted from his muzzle as he fell over the lip of the cave, but it cut off with a surprised yip once he landed on the steep hillside. Moralltach’s necrotic enchantment had reached his heart, and he could no longer control his fall—or, indeed, anything at all. He rolled in a growing billow of dust down to the bottom, a blackened ruin. Granuaile, who’d found the trunk of a young tree to cling to, watched him in horror.
    » Well, go, team! « I said, trying to distract from the fact that he’d been much faster in action than I’d anticipated. » Is everyone all right? «
    › I’m fine, ‹ Oberon said.
    Granuaile was staring at the corpse splayed at the bottom of the hill. » I didn’t know they were all real. I mean, the gods I knew about, but the mythological creatures too? « She tore her eyes free and looked up at me for an answer.
    » Well, the Greeks’ more than anyone else. Their tales keep getting told and reinforced. «
    » So the manticore? Bellerophon? The chimera? Pegasus? They were all real? «
    » Oh, heck, yeah. They had much more press than this guy did. «
    Granuaile shook her head. » Please tell me I won’t be bound to the earth here. «
    » No. We’ll find someplace else. «
    » Then let’s go. Now.