Two Pieces of Tarnished Silver by Unknown Read Free Book Online

trail into the woods, Korm found himself staring into the eyes of a massive bull.
    The vacant stare, twisted mouth, and extended yellow tongue told Korm the creature was dead even before his mind registered what he was seeing. It almost came as an afterthought that the bovine head sat detached from its body, balanced in a clump of viscera upon a gore-soaked tree stump at eye level, facing the path through the woods. A tree just beyond the grisly stump was the scene of an even greater atrocity. There the body of a muscular human man hung upside down from a long nail driven through both ankles. The splattered red stain smearing the tree from the man’s jagged, headless neck gave the appearance of a can of paint tipped over end, with the thickest sludge still slowly oozing to the ground.
    The head and the body had once been a matched pair.
    “So I guess this guy is another of Juval’s figments?” Korm asked.
    “It is possible,” Creeg said without enthusiasm.
    ∗ ∗ ∗
    Finally the three reached the low stone walls ringing the garden at the center of the valley. Here the dusty ground and clumps of scrub grass gave way to wide, broken paving stones partially claimed by creeping vines. Raised platforms, dry and weed-choked fountains, and the remnants of mosaic paths hinted at the garden this once had been, an impression strengthened by the many statues arrayed around the area.
    From a low rise at the center of the garden, the burning manor cast a flickering glow on the sculpted figures. Most of them looked in the house’s direction as if transfixed by the awe of the sight. Korm could hardly blame them.
    The entire frame of the stately three-story structure remained visible through the furious flames, but only the first was more than a vague outline. The front door stood as yet unmarred by fire, as if beckoning potential rescuers to burst through in search of survivors. Had they been in a city, even this far away, Korm might have attempted it. But here, in the demon’s realm, he doubted very seriously that whatever lurked within would welcome him as its hero.
    Their answers, and Juval itself, probably awaited them inside. But there was no sense in rushing into things. If Juval had known the moment they had arrived, as Creeg had suggested last night, the element of surprise had long since been lost.
    And besides. They had not come to fight, but to negotiate.
    The trio cautiously advanced into the garden, passing several of its statues on their way to Juval’s lair. Some of the figures wore primitive, tribal garb. Others were attired as pirates, and others dressed in outdated military uniforms. Most had been sculpted in a moment of terror, their hands splayed out before them as if fending off danger, each face a rictus of fear. Closer to the garden’s center, a trio of humanoid statues seemed to slink up a low stair toward the house. Time had worn away their crude features, but what remained gave Korm the impression of sharks. While inspecting the extremely realistic trident clutched by one of the creatures, Korm’s peripheral vision caught a ceremonial altar at the top of the low stairs.
    A small organic form lay motionless upon the altar. Korm, Aebos, and Epostian Creeg approached closer to discover the body of a goat-horned satyr prostrate upon the pedestal. A jagged line marred its bearded neck, and the flaked pool of blood that had gathered under it suggested that the body had been here a week or more.
    The three of them stood with their backs to the garden, considering the slain satyr, when the clip-clop of hooves tapped from the flagstones at the foot of the low stair behind them. They turned just in time to see the form of a powerful centaur step from behind a massive stone plinth. Unlike the ashen statues that surrounded it, the creature’s healthy tone and muscular physique exuded life and spirit, as did its bushy red beard and shock of wild hair.
    The centaur’s eyes burned with a bright crimson fire, and