London Burns Page 6
“You’re not faster than me. Don’t be stupid. I’m lighter. It must feel where you walk. The tree won’t find me as easily.” Lily didn’t wait for him to argue. She strode out of the trees and straight towards the large bag filled with apostle-blessed salt.
“Lily! What if you’re wrong?” Ray blurted, trying to get her to turn back, but his cousin either didn’t hear his whisper, or ignored him. He shook the sweat from his eyes and the fear from his paralyzed fingers and drew the string on his bow. He found the stumbling shape of Hadwell Barber and lined up a shot into the man’s back. With unsure fingers he let the arrow fly.
It fell short of the man’s shoulders, but still plunged into the flesh of his hamstring. The elder Barber fell to his knees, buying Acton time to set another bush aflame and put space between he and mother Barber.
As Ray lined up a second shot Lily lifted four of the small bags in her tiny hands. She tucked two into her trouser pockets and a third into her armpit. With her dagger she cut open the top of the last. She flung the bag’s contents in a wide arc then tossed it aside. Another dagger slash later she tiptoed ten feet around the area of the tree and emptied the second bag. Above her head the branches of the ravager tree twitched and seized, reaching out like the arms and legs of a spider too large to wrap a sane mind around.
One of the branches dipped straight at her, almost daring her to move, or spread salt. She froze—more still than the trees that watched from feet away—and waited for the branch to forget her.
A thousand heartbeats and ten seconds later it did, and she moved once more.
“Keep at it!” Acton yelled as he emptied out another vial of oil in the brush. “Spread the salt as I set the fires. Good job, girl! The earth shall rot under it as the world burns around it!”
She smiled against the fear that threatened to empty her bladder and nodded at the man’s commands. She emptied the third bag and moved slowly and emptied the fourth. Empty, she returned on the balls of her feet to the pile of bags.
Powell’s hand launched out and tried to grab her foot.
A scream punched at the inside of her teeth but he kept her mouth shut. The dead man had returned to undeath fast and were it not for the branch that held him fast to the ground he’d have stood and killed her. His eyes had drained of color until they were whitened over with the rage of the undead. His face had twisted into a grimace of soul-trapped anger and pain, and he sought to avenge his own death with the sweet taste of hers. She dared a scamper and got away before his strong hands found purchase on her foot again.
An arrow smashed into his head and half the fight left him. A second hit his throat and rapidly a third went into the side of his chest, just below his extended arm. Lily dared a look at Ray, who readied a fourth arrow to end Powell’s cursed undeath. She watched as the arrow left his bow and heard as it hit home, killing the man again.
Sensing something they couldn’t, the tree’s branch lifted out of his body and left it behind on the ground. Someone would bury the food for it later, once the fires were dealt with.
Lily grabbed more bags of salt as Ray shot another arrow at the two people pursuing Acton and his feverish pyromaniacal trip around the tree. She once again dared a scamper and ran around to the far side of the tree where no salt had been spread. Using her blade she cut two of the bags open at a time, and tossed about their white contents until the bright sun above sparkled everywhere the eye could see. In a minute she had emptied the large bag Powell had carried there, and had spread out all the smaller bags within. All this surrounded by a growing ring of fire under the sky filled with needles large enough to split her in two, and drink everything that fell out dry.
“Run Lily! Get out before it’s all aflame,” Acton yelled. He turned now, with only a twenty foot gap in the trees not on fire and faced Celine Barber. He pointed behind him towards Ray and Lily ran. She had but a moment before the fires would spread and trap her in with the tree and its thirst for life.
Acton faced the infected woman and made quick work of her old body. He slashed down across her chest and nearly split her in two. The force of the sword’s strike sent her to her knees and with a returning backhand slash across at waist height he took her head from her shoulders. Her head had no more than gone still on the ground before the roots of the ravager tree erupted around it, sinking its black, fleshy tendrils into the skin and meat beneath. Acton danced away and slipped through the fires.
Lily, Ray and the captain backed away as the forest took flame, sealing off the tree from its minions should any have survived in the woods. The earth sown with ancestor-imbued and blessed salt as well, the tree would have no choice but to go dormant once again.
“Have we done it?” Ray asked Acton as they watched the fires eat away at the good trees and healthy forest. Another sacrifice made to prevent the spread of the ancient threat.
“I think,” Acton said. “But so many dead.” He sat on a stone and fished out the waterskin he’d left beside it earlier. He lifted his wet face cloth and drank at it as ravenously as the tree drank blood. Thirst slaked—skin empty—he looked at the boy and girl who came on the dangerous journey. The flicker of fires teased their skin until it glowed with an orange light.
“Powell, Grant, Hadwell and Celine. Several strangers on the road and the entire farm of animals. All dead because of a tree,” Lily said, looking at the tree inside the wall of flame. The branches stayed still, somehow knowing again that it had suffered a setback.
“Aye,” Acton said. And there’ll be more before we’re done of it. We’d be lucky if that’s all there was. My men and I will scour the forests for days looking for signs of the infected or the risen dead. Elmoryn strikes once more at its curse of humanity.”
“We’ll come. We’ll help,” Lily said.
“Such brave ones, you two are. Proper Shire children. Proper Low Marish people. Afraid of nothing,” Acton said full of pride.
“Oh we’re plenty afraid,” Ray said. “I’ve need of new trousers for the walk back. I never imagined I’d shit myself over fear of a tree.”
- About The Author -
CHRIS PHILBROOK is the creator and author of Adrian’s Undead Diary as well as the fantasy series Elmoryn and Tesser: A Dragon Among Us.
Chris calls the wonderful state of New Hampshire his home. He is an avid reader, writer, role player, miniatures game player, video game player, and part time athlete, as well as a member of the Horror Writers Association. If you weren’t impressed enough, he also works full time while writing for Elmoryn as well as the world of Adrian’s Undead Diary, Tesser, and his newest project, Colony Lost.
- Find More Online -
Check out Chris Philbrook’s official website thechrisphilbrook.com to contact the author and keep tabs on his many exciting projects, or follow Chris on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ChrisPhilbrookAuthor for special announcements.
Visit adriansundeaddiary.com or elmoryn.com to access additional content. Learn more about Chris’s worlds, contact the author, join discussions with other readers, view maps and concept art from the stories, and receive the latest news about A.U.D. and Elmoryn.
In addition, Chris Philbrook’s game development company, Tier One Games LLC, is developing a roleplaying game which allows players to explore the world of Elmoryn, creating their own original characters and adventures. Visit elmoryn.com to access the ever-expanding game content as it is released.
Follow Chris Philbrook’s latest epic series as it unfolds in Tesser: A Dragon Among Us. Meet Tesser, the Dragon. He who walks in any form, and flies the skies free of fear. He has slept for millennia, but now he has awoken in a world ruled by human hands, where science has overshadowed even the glory of old magic. Follow Tesser as he seeks to understand why he slept for so long, and where all the magic has gone. Visit adragonamongus.com to learn more.
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