Princeps' Fury (Codex Alera 5)

On the opposite side of Kitai from Tavi, Durias kept pace with a distinctly unhappy expression on his face. Granted, that might be because the blocky former slave was just as cold and wet and uncomfortable as Tavi. It might also be because Tavi was leading him into the stronghold of a horde of nightmare creatures in an alien land two thousand miles from his home.

Max and Kitai had both faced gratuitous amounts of danger with him before-and not always for reasons as desperate and concrete as those before them now. Durias, though, was a new companion. He'd gotten where he had in life by being a man of both competence and conviction, and Tavi had never seen him comport himself with less than complete integrity and sound reasoning.

Durias had to be wondering what he had done to deserve this.

As if sensing Tavi's gaze, Durias turned to him, an inquiring look upon his face. Tavi gave him what he hoped was a reassuring nod, and sternly kept himself from smiling. It just wasn't the proper time for it.

Behind them, the Canim walked upon their broad shoes, leaving dish-shaped impressions in the thick surface of the croach. Thus far, none of their steps had actually broken that surface. The steady, cold rain barely had time to begin to fill each dent before it vanished, the surface of the strange substance rebuilding itself.

Kitai abruptly lifted a hand, and every member of their hunting party froze in place.

The woods ahead of them shivered, then a trio of the enormous, froglike Vord came into sight, not twenty yards away. They padded by on broad, flapping feet, their movements sinuous and awkward at the same time.

Tavi tensed, and found his own hand moving toward his sword. They weren't yet halfway into the croach-covered area around the Vord's tunnel. If they were seen now, they might never have a chance to strike down the queen-or of escaping the Vord's domain alive. Should one of the frog-Vord notice them, it could mean their lives.

But none of the three even glanced toward Tavi and his companions.

Tavi let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes in relief-just for a second. He could sense the same reaction from the others.

Kitai waited until the Vord had passed from sight, then glanced back at Tavi, nodded, and started forward again. They all followed her, their pace deliberate and steady, avoiding thin patches of the croach that might be more easily broken than other places.

It was during one such detour that Tavi came across a broken section of croach. Three parallel claw marks, perhaps an inch apart, had been raked through the thin sections of croach at the base of a fallen tree. The marks were oozing fresh, brightly glowing green liquid, and Tavi stared at it in horror.

The wax spiders would already be on the way. His group would shortly be discovered, and they hadn't even been responsible for the alarm that would surely be raised. It wasn't so much the thought of being killed that bothered Tavi-though it certainly did. He just hated the idea of dying because some other fool had made a mistake. He stared at the damaged croach, thinking furiously, and motioned the others back.

Everyone obeyed, except for Varg. The scarred old Cane came forward, his strides exaggerated but confident upon the broad shoes, and froze when he saw what Tavi was staring at. The Cane's eyes narrowed instantly, and began flickering at the trees all around them, his lips peeling back from his fangs.

Tavi began to back up, only to realize that it was too late.

One of the wax spiders had come, gliding across the ground toward them. It had too many legs to be a real spider, of course, but that was the closest thing Tavi could think of in form and movement. Its body was covered in a translucent white chitin, and it was about as big as a medium-sized dog, perhaps thirty-five or forty pounds in weight, though its long limbs made it look larger. A number of glossy eyes glittered greenly on its head, just above the bases of a pair of thick, thorn-shaped mandibles, fangs that Tavi knew bore a swift-acting, dangerous poison.

Tavi dropped his hand to his sword without thinking.

Varg's huge paw-hand closed over his. "Wait," the Cane rumbled. "And do not move."

Tavi blinked at the Cane, then back to the spider. The creature was barely a dozen feet away. It would be sure to notice them around the damaged croach and raise the alarm. As Tavi watched, the spider abruptly oriented on them, turning its entire body on its many legs, and began bobbing up and down in agitation, a precursor to the whistling shrieks with which it would warn the rest of the Vord.

Before it could make a sound, something exploded out of the darkness beneath the thick branches of the fallen pine, a dark-furred blur that moved in perfect silence and hit the wax spider like a stone from an old Romanic war engine. The spider was driven across six feet of croach, its legs flailing helplessly as its attacker ripped savagely at the joint of its head and body.

Before Tavi could fully register that the attack was happening, the creature ripped the spider's head from its body, and the rest of it collapsed to the surface of the croach, its legs twitching and flailing.

Tavi blinked. The animal that had dispatched the wax spider crouched atop its corpse. Its fur was dark, and it had a long, sinuous body. Its limbs were powerful, solid, spreading into clawed paws like those of a mountain lion. Its head, though, was more like that of a wolf, or a bear, with a broad muzzle full of sharp and-obviously-wickedly effective teeth upon what looked like incredibly powerful jaws.

Tavi recognized a deadly predator when he saw it-and even if that one weighed no more than the wax spider, it had dispatched the Vord as easily as it might have a rabbit.

The beast turned its glittering yellow eyes toward Tavi and Varg, and silently bared its impressive, green-spattered fangs.

"Do not make eye contact," Varg rumbled quietly. "Back away slowly. Do not lift your hands."

Tavi glanced at the Cane, then they both began backing away. Tavi glanced back, and saw the other Canim looking on, weapons actually drawn and in their hands. The Hunters hadn't drawn when the Vord had come close to them-but this creature, it seemed, merited more of their respect.

Once Tavi and Varg had reached the Hunters, they all continued backing away, until the site of the kill was a good fifty or sixty yards off, before the Hunters seemed to relax, putting their weapons away.

"Close," Anag said.

"What was that thing?" Max muttered to Tavi. "I couldn't see."

Tavi described it briefly to Max, and turned to Varg. "Is that animal native to this land?"

"To all of Canea," Varg said. "One of the finest hunters in it. Strong, swift, intelligent."

"Smart enough to set a trap for the Vord," Tavi mused. "It had clawed open the croach specifically to attract a wax spider."