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Chapter 34: Press The Assault

Chapter 34: Press The Assault

"Fuck, it’s a fast one. Grease!" Voss howled.

A Reaper near the edge of the field immediately tore several clay pots from the pack hanging at his side. He smashed the first against the ground, then the second, spilling a thick yellow substance across the stones. The grease spread quickly, covering the space around him in a shining layer.

"Don’t bother," Rook said as he pulled a length of grave-rope from the coffin. A heavy iron hook hung from its end. He swung it once and threw it toward the Fourth Rank, aiming for the narrow space between its exposed ribs.

The creature disappeared before the hook could reach it. Iron passed through the place where it had been standing and struck the ground hard enough to chip the stone.

A Reaper shouted from the opposite side of the field.

The Fourth Rank had appeared beside the man spreading the grease. Its bladed arm thrust toward his chest as the Reaper tried to step away, expecting the creature to lose its footing when it entered the puddle. Instead, the monster crossed the grease without slipping, its feet striking the stones with a series of sharp clicks.

The sword-like appendage punched through the Reaper’s chest and emerged from his back. His body folded around the arm before the Fourth Rank lifted him, tore its blade free, and allowed him to collapse into the grease.

"It has spikes under its feet," Rook said as he pulled the grave-rope back. "It’s using them as points of contact. It can’t slip."

The creature vanished again.

Several Reapers turned toward Mara, expecting another attack near the contracted soul. Voss raised both hands, ready to use his ability the moment the Fourth Rank appeared.

Rook ran, though he was not charging toward the place where the creature had vanished. He did not move away from Mara or allow the Brand to draw him beyond the range permitted by their contract. Instead, he rushed toward a Reaper standing a short distance to Mara’s left.

The man had been too busy adjusting one of the lanterns to notice anything approaching.

Rook stepped in front of him and swung his falchion upward at empty air.

Steel struck steel as the Fourth Rank appeared in the path of the blow, its bladed arm already descending toward the distracted Reaper’s neck. Rook’s falchion caught it before it landed, but the impact shook through his entire body.

His boots slid across the stone, and a strained groan escaped him as he fought to keep the creature’s arm from crushing the falchion into his shoulder. The Fourth Rank was thinner than most Abominations he had encountered, but there was nothing light about it. Every bone in its narrow frame seemed to carry the strength of several bodies.

The Reaper behind Rook stumbled away, yet for a moment, the Fourth Rank did not press harder. Its enormous owl-like eyes widened, and both fixed upon Rook’s face as the monster became perfectly still.

"What?" Rook asked through clenched teeth. "Saw something uglier than you?"

He tore his falchion free, pulled a dagger from the side of his coat, and drove it toward the creature’s exposed spine. The Fourth Rank bent away before the point could reach it. One of its bladed arms swept between them, forcing Rook to retreat, and then it sprang back toward the center of the field.

It landed with both feet spread across the stones, driving the spikes beneath them into the ground. Several Reapers rushed it from different directions, but the Fourth Rank did not look at any of them.

Its eyes remained upon Rook.

One of the attackers stopped beside the remains of the eastern gate and pressed his hand against a large block of stone hanging from the ruined arch. The fractured stone shuddered beneath his palm. Dust poured from the cracks surrounding it, and the entire block wrenched itself free before shooting across the field.

"Died from a falling tile," Rook said. "Quite unlucky."

The Fourth Rank did not turn. Its left arm moved once, splitting the stone down the middle. Both halves passed around the creature and crashed into the field behind it, throwing dust and shattered rock across the lantern light.

Throughout the attack, it continued staring at Rook.

He moved back toward Mara. The Brand had not yet forced him to retreat, and the white chain between them had not manifested, but he disliked the amount of open ground separating them. More than that, something about the creature’s behavior had begun bothering him.

"Why aren’t you helping?" Voss asked.

"I’m assessing."

"You assessed that stone very thoroughly."

"I also can’t get too far from her."

Mara stood with a dagger in one hand, though there was little she could do against something capable of moving faster than her eyes could follow. Rook positioned himself between her and the Fourth Rank while Voss kept his attention upon the creature.

"What do you think?" Voss asked.

"Something’s wrong with it."

"That observation took you this long?"

"It’s creeping me out," Rook said. "It’s been staring at me since I blocked that attack."

"Maybe it likes you."

"Then let’s kill it before the feeling becomes mutual."

Another Reaper charged from the creature’s side. He planted both hands against the ground, twisted his body, and kicked backwards with both legs. The movement resembled a horse lashing out at something behind it.

His heels struck the Fourth Rank in the ribs, launching it across the field. The creature struck the ground, bounced once, and skidded through the stones, leaving two deep grooves behind it.

Rook frowned. "Died from a horse kick? Huh."

"Got it!" the Reaper shouted.

The Fourth Rank dug the spikes beneath its feet into the ground and stopped itself, but an arrow sliced through its shoulder before it could rise. The shaft entered beneath one rib and passed through the thin flesh on the other side, tearing open a long wound.

"Injured it!" the archer shouted as a second Reaper rushed forward.

The Fourth Rank swung at him while still partially destabilized, but he jumped over the bladed arm and landed close enough to place one hand directly against the wound left by the arrow.

The effect was immediate. The cut widened around his palm as the flesh reddened and swelled. Yellow pustules formed beneath the thin skin, multiplying along the creature’s shoulder before spreading toward its chest and neck. The damaged tissue softened until strips of it began sliding from the bone.

The Fourth Rank released a layered howl.

"Let me guess," Mara said. "Died from an infection?"

Rook glanced at her. "Oh, you’re getting the hang of it."

He loosened the remaining chains around his coffin as the Fourth Rank staggered beneath the spreading infection. One bladed arm scraped across the ground as though it could no longer support its own weight. Several Reapers began closing in, encouraged by the creature’s apparent weakness, but Rook did not trust it.

"Stay hidden," he told Mara.

"Behind what?"

Rook pulled the coffin from his back and planted one end against the ground.

"Preferably something it has to cut through before reaching you. Because it looks like it’s getting pissed off right now."