Chapter 924: Glassmaws (2)

"Ugly glass rat," Asher muttered, then slashed at empty-looking space.

His blade struck hide.

The Glassmaw shrieked, the sound thin and scraping, and its outline flashed into visibility as blood like dull crystal dust scattered across the leaves. It did not die. It recoiled, then tried to fold back into the light-shattered shade.

Asher stepped after it, then stopped when the visible bait lunged toward the anchor instead of him.

"Center," Liam said.

"I see it."

Asher pivoted and met the baiting Glassmaw with a downward strike wreathed in compressed blue heat. The creature pulled back before the blade landed, but the flame kissed the side of its head and forced its camouflage to ripple badly. Its jaw plates opened too wide, serrated edges glinting, and it snapped at Asher’s leg.

Asher drove his knee up before it could bite, catching the underside of its skull with enough force to lift it. His sword followed, not toward the armored jaw, but behind it, where Liam’s earlier cut had shown the seam. Blue flame tore through the weak point. The visible Glassmaw collapsed sideways, half-dead and thrashing.

The left one came back for Liam.

He had expected it.

It moved low through shade, using the bait’s fall to hide the charge. Liam let it close. At the last instant, he used Shadow Solidification beneath one foot, a small black plate forming against the ground to change his angle without a full step. The Glassmaw’s jaws snapped through the space he had occupied. His dagger came down into the back of its neck, and a narrow pulse of fire followed through the blade, contained enough not to flare outward. The creature’s body seized, translucent hide flickering as the internal heat ruined the seam of nerves beneath its glassy plating.

It dropped.

"Right."

"I know."

The wounded right-side Glassmaw had shifted toward the anchor now, not to guard it but to use it. If Asher chased recklessly, the fight could crash into the device. He did not. He cut off the creature’s path instead, sending a flat wave of heat across the ground to herd it away from the stone marker.

Above, Celia spoke. "The anchor is reacting. The pulse is unstable when they circle too close."

"Can it be activated?" Liam asked, already moving toward Asher’s side.

"Not while the remaining one is disrupting the rhythm."

"Then wait."

Asher closed in. The Glassmaw tried to vanish into fractured light again, but Asher heated the air in short bursts, each pulse ruining its outline for a breath. Liam crossed behind it, Shadow Sight tracking the distorted patch rather than the body itself. The creature realized too late that it had been boxed between pressure and silence.

It leapt toward the trees.

Raven dropped.

She denied the Glassmaw escape with her shadowed claws striking the ground in front of it, and her beak-like jaws snapped inches from its face. The Glassmaw recoiled hard, twisting back into the clearing.

That gave Asher the line.

He drove forward with a blue-flame thrust through the exposed side. The creature jerked, then Liam finished it with a dagger through the upper spine before it could thrash toward the anchor.

The clearing went still except for the hiss of fading flame and the soft crackle of disturbed leaves.

Liam waited three breaths.

No fourth outline. No wrong shadow. No circling movement.

"Celia," he said.

Raven lowered enough for Celia to dismount near the anchor. Celia moved quickly, though not carelessly, stepping around the dead bait Glassmaw with visible disgust before crouching beside the stone marker. The academy device was wedged into a carved notch behind roots, dull metal and crystal half-covered by moss. Its signature was faint now that the Glassmaws had stopped circling, but not gone.

Celia lifted one hand over it without touching. Her expression sharpened, personal tension pushed aside by focus. "It is stable enough."

"How long?" Liam asked.

"A short window. It needs a steady input, not force." She frowned slightly. "The rhythm is uneven, but readable."

Asher stood near the edge of the clearing, blade still lit with controlled blue flame. "Then read faster."

Celia ignored him.

Raven stood close behind her, head lowered toward the trees, body angled to shield Celia’s side without crowding the anchor. Whatever dislike existed between them, Raven understood the order she had been given.

Celia placed two fingers against the anchor’s crystal edge and breathed once. A pale thread of Myst moved from her hand into the device, not bright, not forceful, but measured. The anchor resisted at first, its inner light flickering in broken pulses. Celia adjusted. Her brow tightened. She matched the rhythm more carefully, feeding Myst in intervals rather than a constant stream. The crystal responded, a low hum building beneath the stone marker.

Liam and Asher watched the clearing.

The hum steadied.

The anchor lit.

Their insignias pulsed.

A small task update appeared in the air before them and, likely, before Sheila back in Veyrhold.

Western Forest Line Anchor: Activated.

Remaining Anchors: 2/3.

Celia withdrew her hand and sat back on one knee, exhaling slowly. "Done."

"Good," Liam said.

He did not linger over the progress. One anchor down meant less than it sounded like. They still had distance to cover, time to protect, and two more unknown zones to enter.

He touched his communication insignia and shifted the channel to the hunting party. "Garron."

Static brushed the link for a moment before the spear user answered. "We hear you."

"Status."

"Smoke guided us near the western line. We found game trails. Fresh deer signs, I think. The nature-affinity girl agrees. We have not engaged anything yet."

A low growl came through the link, deep and unmistakable.

Smoke.

"He is staring at me," Garron added after a pause.

"Good," Liam said. "Listen carefully. Do not enter the anchor clearing. Glassmaws were active here. Let Smoke guide you to safer hunting ground. Stay together. Follow your chosen leader. If Smoke blocks a direction, you avoid it. If you gather enough game, return. Do not get greedy."

"Understood," Garron said quickly. "We will stay clear."

Another low sound came through, less growl than acknowledgment. Liam felt the faint pull of Smoke’s presence through the distance, steady and alert.

"Return before the limit," Liam said. "Alive and carrying food is better than late and ambitious."

"Yes."

The link ended.

Asher wiped his blade clean with a flick of heat, burning away the worst of the Glassmaw residue. "One done."

"Two left," Liam said.

Celia stood and looked toward Raven. There was still hesitation in her face, but it was smaller now. Raven had protected her without warmth, and Celia was intelligent enough to understand the difference between comfort and reliability. She approached the shadow beast with less visible disgust than before, though Raven still watched her as if weighing several personal insults.

Celia climbed onto her back.

Raven allowed it.

Barely.

Asher rolled his shoulders, still keyed from the fight and clearly happier now that the morning had produced something with teeth. "Northern collapsed road next?"

"Yes." Liam glanced once toward the dead Glassmaws, then toward the direction they needed to take. "We move fast. No detours."

Raven rose into a low crouch, wings spreading.

Asher grinned. "Try to keep up, shadow bastard."

Liam started forward before answering. "Try to think while running."

Asher laughed once and launched after him.

Behind them, the western anchor remained lit among roots and broken stone, its task complete. Ahead, the forest stretched toward the northern collapsed road, and the timer continued to fall.