The nature of peril

Previously: Freelance historian Esmiralda and her companions--Merrick, a member of the Ministry of Human Preservation (MOHP), Broo-Fang Tane, an Optimist Monk, and Seymuhr, a brutish but somewhat dim-witted warrior called the Skullsquasher, have received a final clue in their search for the undead witch Abilene, who once served the ancient pirate Harfigorn. They follow the Trail of the Dead to uproot her evil, once and for all, and are now near her lair...

I stared, willing the sight below us to change. It did not. Thousands of the creatures shuffled in bizarre, erratic pattern, like drunken guards on an unsteady bridge. The opening in the mountain looked woefully far away.

"It's an army," I breathed. Merrick grunted.

"I feel a song coming on," Seymuhr said. His raspy voice held the hint of a smile.

My jaw dropped as I looked up to him. "A song!?"

He shrugged. "It's not a very happy song." He twirled one of his maces. "I'll go first."

"You'll do nothing of the sort!" Merrick hissed. He grabbed at Seymuhr's leg to stop the fool from charging headlong into the vast army of the dead. "Even you cannot possibly fight your way that far, through so many foes. I don't care how slow they may be. We must wait."

"I do not think they...will...pause to...relieve...themselves if tha...t...is what you..............hope," Tane said.

"It is not," Merrick said. "We must use stealth. If we cannot fight our way to our destination, we must use the terrain to conceal ourselves. And the darkness."

"What dark...n..."

"The darkness that comes after the sun sets," Merrick snapped, impatiently. "We wait for nightfall. Perhaps these creatures will move slower, or be less aware of their surroundings should the mad witch be resting."

Baram nodded. "There is some wisdom there. Perhaps the night will make our task easier."

"We don't know if this witch even rests," I put in. "She's stayed alive--we can assume--for a thousand years. She is clearly beyond the needs of mere mortals. Perhaps she is continually energized by the black magic that she devoted her life to."

Merrick nodded. "Obviously she knows we are coming. How else could we explain the attacks in the forest? Still, I believe our best path to victory begins in the dead of night."

That was a poor choice of words, I didn't say. We crawled back from the lip of the valley and discussed our plan. Something was gnawing at me, some vague unsettled feeling, but I could not articulate it. I didn't know if it originated in the nature of our peril, how hopeless our task appeared to be, or something more serious. I neglected to give voice to my uncertain fear because I didn't want to earn the scorn or derision of Seymuhr. Instead, I tried to absorb some of his confidence.

We decided to seek a better route into the cave and dispatched Broo Fang Tane and Baram to find one. They could move more quickly and quietly than any of us, and we no doubt be even more effective when not encumbered by the rest of our group. Tane slipped off to the east while Baram went west--one moment she was there, giving me a nod of reassurance, and the next she was gone, swallowed by the forest she called home. I searched the trees for a glimpse of her, but could find none.

Merrick made no note of her abrupt departure. Seymuhr napped noisily nearby. I settled in to wait until darkfall.