The Hills. Evening.
William's sword was getting heavy.
He had been fighting for what felt like hours—dodging, swinging, trying to keep the creatures from circling around him. His soldiers were doing the same, their faces pale, their arms shaking. Two were already down. One was dead. The others were still fighting.
The creatures were fast.
Faster than anything that size should be. They moved like water, flowing around the soldiers' defenses, striking from angles that shouldn't have been possible. Their claws raked armor, tore flesh, drew blood. Their red eyes glowed in the fading light.
William parried a strike, swung, caught one across the flank. It hissed and scrambled back, but didn't fall. Another took its place.
There were four of them. He had counted at the start—four shapes emerging from the trees, low to the ground, moving fast. They were smaller than the creature they had killed, leaner, their limbs longer, their movements more fluid. Their skin was gray, mottled, the same wrong color as the thing in the pass.
Now there were three. One lay dead near the edge of the clearing, an arrow in its throat—one of his soldiers had gotten lucky. The others were still fighting, still hunting, still learning.
He was tired. His arm was heavy, his breath was short, his leg was bleeding where claws had found him. He didn't know how much longer he could hold.
"Fall back!" he shouted. "Toward the ridge!"
The soldiers moved. The creatures followed.
---
One of his soldiers fell.
William saw it happen—a creature lunging, claws raking the man's chest, blood spraying. The man screamed, stumbled, fell. His sword skidded across the ground.
William couldn't reach him. There were too many between them.
The creature turned toward him.
He raised his sword.
---
Then the arrows came.
They flew over his head, sinking into the creature's flank, its shoulder, its throat. It screamed, staggered, fell. Two arrows in its chest, one in its eye. It didn't move again.
Another arrow took the second creature in the neck. It gurgled, stumbled, collapsed.
The third creature—the last one—fled, scrambling into the trees, disappearing into the shadows.
William lowered his sword. Looked up.
Aldric was there.
He was standing at the edge of the clearing, his cane in his hand, his leg propped. Beside him, Mei was lowering her bow. Behind them, the volunteers were fanning out, their weapons raised, their faces pale.
William counted. Three creatures dead. One escaped.
"You came," William said.
Aldric limped toward him. "I came."
---
The clearing was chaos.
Soldiers lay on the ground—two dead, three wounded. The volunteers moved among them, pressing cloths against wounds, tying bandages, doing what they could. Mei was with the worst of them, her hands steady, her voice calm.
Tomas stood apart, staring at the body of one of the creatures.
It was wrong. Not just dead—wrong. Its limbs were bent at angles that shouldn't be possible. Its skin was stretched over bones that didn't fit. Its blood was too dark, too thick, pooling on the ground like oil.
He had never seen anything like it.
He knelt beside it. Touched its chest. The ribs were in the wrong places. The heart was on the wrong side. The organs beneath were arranged wrong.
"William," he said.
William moved to stand beside him. "What is it?"
Tomas shook his head slowly. "It's not from here. Look at it. The bones, the organs, the blood. It's not from this world."
William looked at the creature's body. At the gray skin, the red eyes, the limbs that bent wrong.
"It never was," he said.
---
Aldric stood at the edge of the clearing, watching the volunteers work.
His leg was throbbing. His arm was shaking. He had pushed too hard, ridden too fast, ignored the healers' warnings. But he was here. They were alive.
William walked to stand beside him.
"You shouldn't have come," William said.
Aldric looked at him. "Neither should you."
William was quiet for a moment. "Two dead. Three wounded. We killed three of them. One got away."
Aldric looked at the bodies of the creatures. "They'll be back. That one will bring more."
William nodded. "I know."
---
They buried the dead at sunset.
The graves were shallow, the earth cold, the prayers short. The soldiers stood in silence, their heads bowed, their hands at their sides. The volunteers stood behind them, their faces pale, their eyes on the ground.
Aldric stood apart, his cane in his hand, his leg aching.
Mei moved to stand beside him. "Tomas did well."
Aldric looked at her. "Tomas?"
"He was scared. But he didn't run." She nodded toward the young farmer, who was sitting on a rock, staring at the ground. "He stood his ground."
Aldric was quiet for a moment. "That's more than most."
Mei nodded. "That's what I told him."
---
They made camp at the edge of the clearing.
The fire was low, the watches were set, the wounded were tended. William sat apart, his back against a tree, his sword across his knees. He was thinking about the creatures, about the way they had moved, about the way they had hunted.
Four of them. They had killed three. One had escaped.
They were learning. Every time they fought, they learned. And now the one that got away would tell the others.
Aldric sat beside him.
"You're thinking too much," Aldric said.
William looked at him. "So are you."
Aldric almost smiled. Almost. "Someone has to."
They sat in silence for a moment.
"We need to find the portal," William said. "Before more of them come through."
Aldric nodded. "We will."
William looked at the darkness. "I hope you're right."