Chapter IV: The Stables (Cont. III)

The assassin grabbed his final ball of explosive liquid and hurled it at the garms, the flames incinerating a great number of them, but barely denting their ranks. “We’re in trouble,” the assassin yelled as he raced towards the tank.

“Jump already,” Blackheart yelled, grabbing Adelia’s arm as the garms moved closer.

Adelia swallowed, “One quick question,” she whined.

“WHAT?!” Blackheart and the assassin yelled at the same time, the assassin reaching into his cloak.

“Why is Kiki growling into the tank?”

Blackheart looked down at Kiki, her teeth gritted tight, her fur standing straight up. Her eyes were fixed on something up inside the tank. Blackheart snatched the lamp as the assassin fired a bolt into the advancing wall of creatures, several scattered as a scewered garm bounced away. Blackheart’s eyes widened as he stared up into the tank. Near the top sat the Garmut shrub, tendrils shooting down as the light shone on it, burning it. Blackheart felt the sudden sting as the tendril cracked him, the lantern tumbling from his hand and falling into the tank. A sudden cloud of fire burst up from below, throwing the four away from the tank and sending the garm screeching back.

Adelia clambored to her feet first. She looked into the tank with dread. The Garmut was screeching in anger at the sudden burst of light while at the base of the tank, a pool of fire was crackling. “GREAT!”

Blackheart climbed to his feet in time to cut down several advancing garms. The garms had pulled back a distance, scared of the light and fire that so often appeared when they attacked these invaders. A screech near the back of the swarm of garms cast the entire horde into disarray.

The assassin rose to his feet. “That would be the sand then,” he muttered as he picked up his crossbow. The four stood between the tank and the chaotic swarm of dying garm, their minds racing.

Blackheart looked back at the tank. “Before the Garmut gets over the initial shock of the light, we need to get across the canal. Kiki, go!” Kiki, happy to take a chance at escape lunged into the tank. There was the sound of claws sinking into dirt and iron and then a howl signalling saftey.

“I’m glad your beast will get away,” the assassin muttered, firing a second bolt into the mess of garms. He glanced back at the tank as the Garmut’s tendrils began to emerge, “Looks like we won’t, however.”