PROLOGUE
Crunch.
The noise jolted him awake. His wife snored softly next to him; she hadn't heard it.
Crunch.
He shivered involuntarily. Once could have been a mistake. Twice...
Careful not to wake Lillian, he slid out of bed and quietly drew on his pants, then fumbled in the dark for his boots. He smacked his shin into a small chest and cursed quietly. Lillian grunted softly, then continued to snore.
He made his way to the door and quickly slipped through. The low fire in the small hearth lit the front room well enough for him to find a lantern. After lighting it with a coal, he made his way back into the bedroom and drew on his boots and shirt. He grabbed his hunting bow and a quiver, then grabbed his long knife. Whatever animal was out there had not been invited, and considering what had happened elsewhere, it was best to be armed.
Crunch.
He shivered again. Foolishness. He didn't believe what the townsfolk were saying. All that supernatural stuff was just rubbish. Just an animal. Coyote, maybe a wolf. At worst a panther or bear. But natural. Nothing to be unduly afraid of. So why did he shiver?
Crunch.
Better safe than sorry, though. He opened a shutter and peered out the small window into the darkness. Nothing. All the cows were close to the house, but none visible by this moon. He'd have to go out to check on them.
Crunch.
There it was again. Beyond the light from the window. In the darkness. His breathing quickened. Idiot, what are you doing? Just an animal. Nothing you haven't faced before.
Closing and latching the shutter, he slipped through the door, closing it firmly behind him. Bow in one hand, lantern in the other, he made his way out towards the nearest gate to the field in which the cows rested. His feet seemed to drag, his heart raced, his breathing shallow and quick.
Nothing out there. Just an animal. No demons. No wraiths. No ghosts of former enemies. No monsters. Just an animal.
The litany of horrors that ran through his mind could have populated his nightmares for twenty years. Had been populating his nightmares, actually, since livestock started disappearing three weeks ago. Sometimes they were completely gone. Other times, only pieces were left. Cattle and other beasts butchered. Horrible sights. Blood everywhere. Only two days ago he'd been at the Tulyar farm and seen the mess that had been their best heifer. He'd lived around animals for years. Hunted some. Butchered others for meat. But he'd never seen anything that made him retch like he did when he saw what was left of that cow.
His wife, though he had thought her a sensible woman, had purchased some of the charms and other knickknacks they were selling in town. Protection against this ghost, wards against that wraith. He thought it nonsense, and told her so. She replied that even if none of it worked, it made her feel better. Besides, better safe than sorry, she said.
Nonsense.
Reaching the gate, he quietly set his lantern on a post and lifted the latch. Swung the gate open. Waited. Nothing.
Taking the lantern once more, he stepped forward into the field. Three steps. Four.
Suddenly, he went down, tripping on something hidden in the grass. The lantern flew from his hand, as did his bow. The light went out.
Cursing, he scrambled for his knife. Drew it. Waited. Found the root that had tripped him. Just a normal root. Nothing weird. Nothing strange. Normal night.
His eyes began to adjust to the moonlight. Full moon, or nearly so. Plenty of light. Didn't need the lantern. He could get it in the morning. Better to check on the livestock tomorrow, in daylight, anyway. Standing, he started walking. Three steps. Four. Five. Six. No gate.
Twenty paces now. The next step, his foot slipped into something squishy. Reaching down, he felt something warm and wet around his hand. Then something stringy and soft. Crap.
He turned, terror once more making his heart race. A cloud passed over the moon. Pitch black.
Crunch.
He felt a whisper of air behind him. Whirling, he raised his knife. Nothing there.
A noise to his left. Again he turned. Again, nothing.
He turned again, and again, trying to see, trying to make out anything in the darkness.
Then it hit. Heavy, dense. He left his feet and flew through the air. His knife spun off into the darkness. He felt rather than saw the ground coming at him. Then everything went black.
When he came to, he saw once again the moon above him. Light, just enough to see. He tried to sit, but something wasn't working. He tried again. Lifted his head. Couldn't feel his legs. Couldn't move his arms. Something was wrong.
Then he saw the dark spot where his cotton shirt should have covered. Where his shirt no longer was. Where his insides spilled out around him. He managed to lift one hand. Grasped something squishy. Oh. Oh.
He laid his head back and sighed one last time. Unseeing eyes continued to stare at the moon until it passed beyond the horizon and dawn began to break.