The Spook 9 - Slither's tale by Delaney Joseph Page A

appeared to be an armed Kobalos on horseback, but there was something wrong where the rider and horse joined. It was not simply that there was no saddle. There was no division between them. I was not looking at two creatures; it was one deadly composite.
    ‘What is that fearsome thing?’ Nessa demanded with a shudder. Susan began to whimper, while Bryony shook with terror but made no sound.
    ‘Perhaps it is our deaths,’ I told her. ‘Stay back and let me do what I can.’
    I was facing a hyb warrior, a crossbreed of Kobalos and horse that had been designed for combat. The creature’s upper body was hairy and muscular, combining exceptional strength with speed and the ability to rip an opponent to pieces. The hands were also specially adapted for fighting. In its right the hyb appeared to be gripping five long, thin blades, but I knew they were talons that could be retracted into the muscular hand or unsheathed at will. In its left was a mace – a huge club covered in sharp spikes like the quills of a porcupine.
    The lower body of a hyb was faster than a horse, with spurs of bone projecting from each foreleg, often used to disembowel the mount of its enemy. Additionally, this hyb was armoured: it wore a metal helmet that covered its whole face except for the angry red eyes. Its body, upper and lower, was also protected by the highest quality ribbed armour.
    The helmet, with its elongated jaw, betrayed the true shape of the upper head, which was more horse than Kobalos. Both mouths were open now, snorting clouds of steam into the cold air. Then both throats called out a challenge, a deep guttural roar that echoed across the land from horizon to horizon. Without further ado it charged towards me, through a narrow gap between two jets of steam erupting from the volcanic rock.
    I heard whinnies of fear from behind as the two purrai mounts , sensing the strangeness and malevolence of the hyb, scattered, taking their riders with them. But my horse, fortified as it was by the magic of boska, did not move a muscle.
    The hyb whirled the club high above its head, but I saw through that subterfuge. It was intended to distract me, and while I looked up, the long thin talons would strike fast and low like vipers’ tongues.
    It was as I anticipated, and I was ready. I charged forward to meet the attack, tail extended, and we passed each other with barely a foot between us. As the hyb leaned towards me, the sharp tips of its talons aimed upwards, seeking to slip beneath my ribs and into my heart, I focused my mind until a small bright magical shield materialized in the air and moved with me.
    I positioned it so that it deflected the five deadly talons. I did not immediately strike a blow of my own but, guiding my mount with my knees, drew my sabre and followed up my advantage, catching the creature before it had fully come about.
    I struck it full upon the head with the hilt of my sabre so that the metal of the helmet rang. Then, with my dagger, I tried to pierce its neck at the point of relative weakness where the helmet joined the body armour.
    I failed, and we broke contact, both galloping some distance apart.
    Quickly, the hyb turned and charged for the second time. This time, however, despite its agility and speed, I was even better prepared and, while deflecting the talons with my shield for a second time, struck a blow of my own.
    I did not have the space to put all my strength into the scything horizontal sweep of my blade, but luck was with me.
    The moment I struck, a jet of steam erupted from the ground almost immediately under my enemy. The horse screamed with pain and the upper part leaned towards me to avoid being scalded. Thus the hyb was distracted, and my sabre made contact high on the shoulder; deflected by the ribbed armour there, it found the narrow gap between the helmet and the shoulder piece, biting into the neck so that the hyb rocked sideways as it passed.
    As the creature swayed and the mace dropped from its