[Continued from here]
"Alright."
Mendel's voice made them both jump. "He's all set, and no unexpected
alterations. You ready to go?"
"Yes."
Beranwen said emphatically, eager to be out of the gloom of the woods.
"Everything
okay out here?" Mendel saw the horses tied to the porch and the churned-up
ground around their feet.
"The
horses spooked at something. I think they're okay now. They probably just need
a run. If you can give us a hand, we'll tie Stan to my saddle."
Inside,
Derra was tidying a pile of Stan's old plates, stacking them neatly in size
order. Beranwen remembered her suggestion to Quinton.
"Derra?"
The woman tensed, and didn't look up. "I was wondering if my friend
Quinton could take one of those plates with him. If you don't need them for
anything else."
Mendel
stepped in, picking a plate from the top of the pile.
"He
can have this one, can't he Derra?" He asked gently. Derra looked at the
plate, and took it back.
"Not
that one. This one. No. This one." She picked a plate randomly out of the
pile and gave it to Mendel. As she did so, Beranwen realised what had been
bothering her about the woman. It wasn't just the way she held herself - half
hunched, as though waiting for a blow that wasn't coming - but she didn't make
eye contact. She had never once looked at Beranwen or Quinton, even when she
had run out after them earlier. Even Mendel only got a half glance.
"This
one. Thank you, Derra." Mendel passed it over to Beranwen. "Here.
There's nothing special about it, but if your friend wants it, he's welcome to
it. They'll only be melted down for other parts."
Beranwen
took it. As she turned it over, the light coming through the window flickered
once more. The horses screamed.
“What
is the gods names…” Beranwen moved quickly, but she was still on Mendel’s heels
as they ran out of the door. Then she barrelled into the back of him as he drew
up suddenly.
“Back
inside, back inside…” Mendel was backing up, muttering the words over and over.
Beranwen stepped smartly sideways to allow the man to retreat, and finally saw
what he was retreating from.
It
had legs. That was Beranwen’s first thought. Black, with legs. Lots of legs,
like a centipede, except not a centipede. No centipede had ever grown that
large.
For
the moment, its attention was on the horses, who were still crying in terror
and trying to tear themselves from the post of the porch. The… thing snicked powerful, beetle-like
pincers, and its many legs oscillated smoothly to move it forwards. Then it
spotted Beranwen.
It
moved. She watched it, fascinated and horrified all at once, and then a hand
grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. Moments later, the point of a pincer
broke through the wood of the front door.
“The
horses.”
“Damn
the horses.” Mendel let her go. “That thing’s going to smash the door down. We
have to get out of here.”
But
having pulled the pincer free, the creature didn’t continue to attack. Through
the hole, they saw it turn back around.
“Take
Quinton and go out the back.” She said absently, moving back towards the broken
door. “Get into the trees, out of sight.”
“Mistress
Tuple, don’t be a fool.”
“Master
Win…”
“Quinton,
go with Mendel and Derra. I’ll catch you up.” She eased the door open and
stepped back outside. Mendel pulled at her arm again, but she shook him off.
The
creature was edging up on the panicking horses. From behind, Beranwen could see
dark, lacy wings folded neatly along the length of its back, and shuddered.
“Oi!”
She shouted. It moved like lightning, turning about again to find the source of
the noise. Beranwen barely had time to lift the heavy metal plate she was still
gripping, before…
Wham. The plate
smashed into the creatures jaws, snapping the bone pincers and causing the
thing to stagger sideways. Terrifying it might look, but it wasn’t designed to
take a beating. While it was recovering, Beranwen ran around its blindside and
over to the horses. She freed one and was tugging at the other’s reins when an
angry chittering told her to look round.
The
creature was moving again. It wove cautiously closer, much slower than it had
been before, but no less dangerous. The broken stubs of the pincers looked
cruelly sharp still, and no less dangerous. Fumbling blindly, Beranwen kept her
eyes on the creature while she tried to undo knotted reins behind her back. The
other horse had already bolted, hopefully back to the house if its training
held. But whenever she loosened the knot of the second, the frenzied horse
pulled it tight again. She wasn't going to free it in time...
[Part 35]
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