The Bone Forest

The Bone Forest by Robert Holdstock Page B

Book: The Bone Forest by Robert Holdstock Read Free Book Online
Authors: Robert Holdstock
Tags: Fantasy
birds, behind him, caught his attention and induced in him a state of frozen silence. He hugged the dark trunk of a tree, peering through the light-shattered gloom for any substantial movement.
    When, after a minute or so, he had seen nothing, he began a hesitant return to the glade.
    The sound of a scream, a woman's angry, fearful cry, shocked him, then set him running.
    A small fire was burning, close to the stone walls of the shrine. The intensity of the flame, the sharp crackle of wood, told Huxley instantly that the fire was new. He was tantalized by the thought that Ash had been near the clearing all the time, watching him, waiting for him to leave.
    He approached, now, crouched low in the cover. Ash was a running shape, a twisting, struggling form, caught darkly in the light from her own fire. Something was grappling with her, hitting at her. He could hear the blows. Her cries of anger became groans of pain, but she fought back with vigor, rough skirts swirling, arms swinging.
    Huxley dropped his pack and stepped quickly into the clearing. The process of murder was interrupted and Ash looked at him angrily, then with puzzlement. Behind her, the wood shimmered and the gray-green shape of a man moved swiftly to the right. He still had hold of Ash and the startled woman stumbled as her head was wrenched back, dragging her over.
    "Let her go! Let go of her at once!"
    Huxley snatched a piece of burning wood from the small fire. He dropped it at once and yelled as flame curled around his fingers, singeing the hair on his skin. More carefully he selected a fragment of branch that was burning only at the end—
    And grimaced as he realized that the whole of the wood was at what felt like red heat!
    —And charged at the shadow of his alter ego.
    Ash was being throttled. Her body had pitched back, her naked legs thrashing. Her head and upper torso were hidden by the brush. Her cries were stifled, choking.
    Huxley leapt through the undergrowth and thrust the burning brand at the shadow.
    "Get away from her! I won't have this, do you understand me? Stop at once!"
    The fire at the end of the brand went out. He shook the wood vigorously, hoping to restart the flame, but the life had gone from it.
    Then his face erupted with pain and he felt himself flung back into the clearing. He moaned with genuine discomfort and struggled to stand, but all strength had evaporated from his legs, and he fell back, onto one elbow, reached to hold his face, now numbed and oddly loose around the jaw.
    Distantly he heard a sharp crack, a half cry, fading quickly, a woman's cry, dying.
    "Oh Dear God, he's killed her… I've killed her…"
    Fire burned into his eyes and he shrieked and struck against the brand. A foot crushed down upon his belly, and when he doubled so he felt a further blow, by foot or hand it was hard to tell, against his eyes, striking him flat again. The fire waved down, the flames took on his shirt, and he patted a hand at them, before again fingers closed around his wrist and wrenched him up, to a sitting position, half blinded by flickering yellow fire, and—
    Rope around his neck!
    Tightening!
    He snatched and scrabbled at the thong, managed to cry out. "Stop this! You have no right! Stop this at once… !"
    He was lifted, turned, swung. He struggled to retain a degree of dignity but felt his feet leave the ground and his stomach turn over as he was dragged around by the creature, swinging him with astonishing strength, finally flinging him against the stone of the shrine.
    He looked up, then felt burning and realized he was half in the fire. He scrabbled away from the heat, but had the presence of mind to fling gleaming shards and hot ashes against the blurry shadow that had come to tower over him. Where they impacted he caught the grim outline of a naked man, leaning down, and he could tell the smile, and the glitter of menace in the eyes that watched.
    A voice like bubbling water hissed, "Let her die…"
    "Animal!" Huxley

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