Shadow Slave

By the time they decided to stop, Sunny was on the verge of fainting. After hours and hours of traversing the rough mountain slope, his body was almost at its limit. However, to everyone’s surprise, Shifty seemed to be doing even worse than him.

The roguish slave’s eyes were muddy and unfocused, aimlessly wandering around. His breath was ragged and shallow, as though something was exerting pressure on his lungs. He looked feverish and unwell.

As soon as Hero found a suitable place for a camp, Shifty simply collapsed on the ground. The most unnerving part about all of this was the lack of angry cursing that they had already gotten used to. The slave lay silent and motionless, with only movements of his chest betraying that he was still alive. Several moments later, he uncorked his flagon with a shaky hand and greedily drank a few large gulps.

“Conserve your water,” Hero said, a hint of concern somehow finding its way into his usually stoic voice.

Disregarding these words, Shifty drank more, emptying the flagon completely.

Scholar didn’t look much better than him. The arduous climb took a heavy toll on the older slave. Despite the unbearable cold, he was sweaty, with bloodshot eyes and a grim expression on his face.

Being the weakest of the three, Sunny had somehow managed to endure the best.

“Can’t we just melt the snow once there’s no more water?”

Hero gave Scholar a complicated look.

“There might come a time when we won’t be able to make a fire, as to not attract unwanted attention.”

No one commented, knowing perfectly well whose attention they had to avoid. The memory of Mountain King’s horror was still fresh in their minds.

Luckily, today Hero had managed to find a natural alcove in the mountain wall, perched precariously behind a narrow ledge. The fire was well hidden by the rocks, allowing them to enjoy its warmth without the fear of being noticed. No one was in the mood to talk, so they just roasted slices of oxen meat above the flames and ate in silence.

By the time the skies had turned completely black, Shifty and Scholar were already asleep, lost in the thrall of their own nightmares. Hero took out his sword and moved to the edge of the rock outcropping.

“Try to rest, as well. I’ll take the first watch.”

Sunny gave him a nod and lay down near the fire, dead tired. Falling asleep inside a dream was a new experience for him, but, unexpectedly, it turned out to be quite mundane. As soon as his head touched the ground, his consciousness slipped into darkness.

had gently shaken him awake. Groggy and disoriented, Sunny blinked a few

better to give them some time to recover. Don’t let the flames go out

who added a

a few hours, he was on his

dim stars and a sharp crescent of the newborn moon. However, its light was not enough to pierce the darkness that enveloped the mountain. Only Sunny’s eyes seemed

to climb quite high during the previous day, he could still see the distant ribbon of the road. He could

littering the stones were the

platform from beneath the cliff. It stayed motionless for a while and then moved forward, scraping its claws against the ground. Every time a claw hit one of the bodies, the tyrant would grab and bring

sounds of crunching bones to Sunny’s ears. He flinched, accidentally pushing a small rock off the ledge. It fell, hit the slope and

noise of these falling rocks sounded like thunder

turned its head, looking directly at

scared to make even the tiniest sound. For a while, he even forgot to

like an eternity. Then the tyrant calmly turned away and continued to devour dead slaves, as though he

blind,’ Sunny suddenly

widened eyes. It was true. The creature

had happened earlier, he grew more and more certain of his guess. Those milky, expressionless eyes. Come to think of it, he never saw the tyrant moving them at all.

It was all making

***

others up. Hero had hoped that a full night’s rest would do Shifty and Scholar some good, but his hopes were crushed. Somehow, the two slaves looked even

simple overexertion. He was deadly pale and shaky, with half-conscious

“What’s wrong with him?”

not doing very well, helplessly shook his

the mountain sickness. It affects

voice sounded raspy and

fine, assholes. Get out of my

forming full sentences, but still

was supposed to carry before adding them to his own load. After hesitating a little, he gave some to