I could hear them. Smell them. I could feel their presence. At least four of them...but nowhere to be seen. A branch snapped behind me and I whirled, spotting two of the Q’el behind me. Their teeth glowed white in the shadows of the forest and their eyes burned fiery red. They stalked forward, and I drew my sword, listening to Bael draw his behind me as the other two Q’el growled at him. Their feet gripped the ground and black mist ascended from their pitch black pawprints. I watched as they separated to surround us. To anyone else, this would’ve spelled their death. But to Bael and I, this was but a tiny setback.

The one on my left lurched forward and I dodged, rolling out of the way as the one on my right charged at me. I swung my sword and brought it down across the Q’el’s shoulder, making it yelp in pain and fall to the ground. I thrust my sword into its chest and through its heart, putting it out of its misery as the other one roars and runs forward. It leapt into the air, leaving its head vulnerable and I drove my sword home through its eye and out the back of its skull. Its limp body dropped to the ground and I put my foot on its head to help wrench my sword free. I turned to Bael and watched as he walked over to the last squirming mass and plunge his sword into it. Its lifeless body began to steam and disintegrate, and the pungent smell reached my nose, making me gag. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but nothing can quite prepare you to the stench of death.

I looked down at the Q’el by my feet, at its decaying, disfigured body. Ugly things; a mish-mash of everything. Something along the lines of a jackal crossed with a wolf with a long, skinny, rat-like tail. They measured about five and a half feet at the shoulder and weighed about two hundred pounds. Red eyes that glow in the dark and a big toothy grin that makes the hairs rise on even the most experienced soldier’s neck. Not something you’d like to meet in a dark alleyway.

They’re near impossible to track. They’re not like normal animals, they’re smart. They cover their tracks so not even the hounds can follow them. Another advantage is that when they die, they start decomposing almost immediately. A hot steam rises up from them and within ten minutes, they’re nothing but blackened ashes. When they walk, that same black steam comes up from their feet and from their tracks. But it doesn’t help us track them. It makes a terrible smell that permeates the whole area and confuses the hounds. All it reminds me of is rotten eggs, burnt flesh, vomit and ale that’s been left for too many years.

They’ve been a plague on our kingdom for hundreds of years. It’s only gotten worse in recent months when we started mining the nearby reserve for oil, metal and minerals. But it’s died down in recent weeks, so maybe we’ve finally sent them running. Doubtful, but one can still hope.

“How’d they get past the line?” Bael glanced toward the forest, searching for more. “They came from the south.”

“South? But that’s where we…” My voice trailed off and Bael turns, all blood drained from his face.

“Run.”