The Lair of Bones by David Farland Page A

to disorient you. They want to kill you before you have time to move.”
    â€œSo I've heard,” Gaborn said bitterly. Averan didn't know it, but Gaborn had gone into the Dunnwood to hunt reavers only a day after he'd wed Iome. He'd hunted in an ancient cave where some reavers had holed up. Even though Gaborn was an Earth King, and even though he'd had his senses to warn his men of danger, few of his companions had survived that expedition. Nearly four dozen knights had died in an ambush like the one Averan described.
    â€œThere is danger ahead,” Gaborn said. “Reavers, most likely. But it's not for—oh, ninety or a hundred miles.”
    â€œI just remembered something,” Averan said, “something I learned from the Waymaker. There is an old warren ahead. I don't know how to convert distances in reaver to human terms… but I think maybe a hundred miles. The reavers stayed there for days before they came to the surface.”
    â€œIt was a staging area?” Gaborn asked.
    â€œThere could be more reavers there, I think,” Averan said. “An army—a big one. I remember seeing it in the mind of the fell mage. She needed to get her warriors out, to make room for the others that were coming.”
    Gaborn's heart went out of him. Seventy thousand reavers had attacked Carris. If there was a horde that size ahead, how could they hope to sneak past it?
    â€œIs there a way around the staging area?” Gaborn asked, “a side tunnel that we can take?”
    Averan gazed up at Gaborn's face. “Maybe we should go find another way into the Underworld.”
    â€œThere isn't time,” Gaborn said.
    â€œWe might be able to sneak past them,” Binnesman said. “Or, if their guard is light, we may be able to fight past them, and hope to avoid pursuit.”
    The fog felt to Gaborn as if it were closing in. He was beginning toworry about Averan. She had learned much from the reavers, but she didn't know nearly enough to guide them. Or perhaps, more precisely, her head was so full of minutiae that she hadn't had time to put it all together.
    â€œWhat about this fog?” Iome asked. “Can reavers see through fog?”
    â€œYes,” Averan said. “They hardly notice it.”
    Almost as soon as Iome had spoken, Gaborn found the fog beginning to clear. Indeed, in a matter of a few paces, it was gone altogether. The tunnel branched, and warmer air seemed to be coming from the left fork, like a summer breeze, except that it smelled of minerals and dank places. The right fork led up at a steeper angle.
    â€œTurn left,” Averan said. “The trail almost always leads down, toward warmer air.”
    Now the tunnel began to show signs of life. The ice here had all melted, and with the confluence of heat and moisture, patches of wormgrass began to grow all along the floor and walls. Wormgrass was so named because the urchinlike shrub had soft spicules the width and length of earthworms. Cave kelp hung from the ceiling, and blotches of colorful fungi adorned the rock.
    Most of the vegetation along the floor and walls had been devastated, so that now only ragged patches of flora could be seen.
    Here and there blind-crabs roamed about, searching for food. These were nothing like the crabs that inhabited the coast or some rivers. They were more closely akin to reavers, and to Gaborn's mind looked more like giant ticks than crabs. They had six legs, each of which was long and thin.
    The group mounted up, and began to ride their horses hard now. The road was clear before them.
    Most of the young blind-crabs were absolutely colorless. Their shells were like flawed crystal, giving a clear view of their guts and muscles. Gaborn could see their hearts palpitating wildly in fear as the horses approached, and could make out the color of their latest meals. Most of the crabs were small, only a few inches across the back.
    A few lost gree shot through the cave with the