The young man turned and darted back to the wreckage.

The woman offered Farris more water, but he declined. He reached into his own pocket and produced a tiny brass vial of thainol. With a quick swig, the liquid rolled down his throat, warm and soothing. It did much more to take the pain away than the water did. The healer laughed.

“Never been a better time, I suppose.” Her voice was weary, and her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

How long have we been out here?

“What’s your name?” she asked, placing a hand on his forehead.

“Chester,” he answered without hesitation. It would take a lot more than an airship falling from the sky for Farris Silvertongue to forget that the future of the Simian race rested on his shoulders. “I’m one of the ship’s navigators, but today I travelled as a passenger.”

She smiled. “I’m sure you were hoping for a better day off than this.”

“Aye, but I could do with the overtime.”

She laughed and placed a hand on his knee again.

“Now Chester, there’s some damage done to your bones, and the underflesh that binds them together has been torn. I can fix the bones easily, but the underflesh will require a fully trained healer, and a lot more supplies than we have out here. I’ll give you a temporary patching up now, though, so at least you’ll be able to walk.”

She cupped both hands around his injured knee, and he felt soft, pulsating warmth against his flesh.

And before Farris had a chance to remember how much he detested the Church and its servants, his pain disappeared.

“It worked!” he said, barely able to contain his surprise. “How… I mean… I thought you said you weren’t a proper healer?”

“Not yet,” she replied, rubbing her hands together. “I used to be a Geomancer, but I changed schools shortly after I earned my Earthcloak. I’ve got one year of study left in the Academy chapter of Penance, and then you’ll be able to call me Sláine the White.”

“Sounds far more majestic than Sláine the Green.”

Farris tried to bend his knee. It was difficult, as if someone kept pushing in the other direction. But with some effort, he rotated his lower leg slowly in circles. He looked up at the trees, noticing that many were still full and green despite it being well into the autumn months.

“Where are we?” he said.

Sláine smiled. “That reminds me, you better not eat anything you see lying around. We’re in the—”

A sudden, sharp scream rang out from the wreckage. They turned to see the red mage sprinting back towards them.

“Run!” he said, panting and waving his arms. Just behind him, four strange black shapes scuttled through the clearing. Each moved with deadly speed and precision, darting over the ship’s debris and falling upon those who were too injured to run.

The red mage paused to regain his breath, and then yelled once more.

“Beadhbhs!”

Farris frantically tried to pull himself to his feet as panic erupted all around him.

Although shaking with terror, he couldn’t take his eyes away from the creatures; he was strangely fascinated by the way they moved. Some men tried to fight them off, but they died for their efforts. Others tried to flee, but they were killed for their cowardice. The beasts attacked always in pairs, closing in on their prey with startling synchronisation, as if sharing the same thoughts. More beadhbhs flooded in from all around, pouring out from the dense forestry and vastly outnumbering those unfortunate enough to survive the crash.

The Glenn. My luck had to run out as some point.

Nearby, the knight named Sir Bearach swung his claymore in large arcs, cutting down any bird that crossed its path. He moved through the carnage, roaring curses and raging with bloodlust. When he had a moment to spare, he called towards Farris and the mages.

“We need to leave. Now.”

“Chester,” Sláine said, grabbing Farris’s hand, “can you walk?”

Farris smiled. “I’d rather run.”

As he spoke, two more beadhbhs fell upon another wounded survivor across the clearing, his cries drowned out by the sound of flesh torn by talons. Some of the other men had climbed up on top of the ship’s remains, but the beadhbhs surrounded it, shrieking and squawking as they leapt upwards. One beadhbh broke away from the flock and charged directly at Farris, its path curving away from him, ready to attack from the side. Farris noticed that there was another, following an opposite but otherwise identical trajectory.

He was about to call out and alert those still capable of fighting, but there was no need. The red mage took a step forwards and fire burned in his hands. He made no move until the beadhbhs were upon them, but as they leapt through the air, the mage threw his arms towards the sky, engulfing the birds in flames. The beadhbhs shrieked as they fell burning to the ground.

The battle raged on by the wreckage, but several more survivors had joined the mages, obviously aware that magic was their only chance of escaping in one piece. Without saying another word, they turned and ran from the clearing, deep into the poisonous valley of the Glenn.

He had no more pain, but Farris felt the bones in his knee bend and grind with every step. The path wriggled through ditches and streams as they went, but their pursuers never gave up the chase. Every so often, Farris heard a scream, or a cry for help from behind, and he knew that another beadhbh had satiated its hunger.

But still they ran.

It was clear that no Man or Simian had taken this route in a long time. The plants and flowers that sped past seemed beautiful. Farris didn’t give them a second glance. Twigs and leaves scratched against his face while upturned roots threatened to trip him, but he didn’t slow. There was little material between his feet and the forest floor, and he felt every stone and blade of grass roll beneath him.

Still, he blindly followed the figures of Sir Bearach and Sláine before him.

If we reach a dead end, we’ll be trapped between that and the beasts.

As the trail evened out for a small stretch, Farris quickly glanced behind. Perhaps a half-dozen more men still followed, but four beadhbhs came closing in, leaping through the foliage with ease. Farris turned his attention back to those running ahead of him.

As long as there are more of us than them.

The cold air caught in his throat, and every breath jabbed icy daggers into his lungs. A thousand voices in his head begged him to stop, to rest, to catch a breath, but he ignored them.

The trees above his right shoulder fell away, revealing the full splendour of the Glenn below. On the other side of the river, the hills rose up green and grew darker towards the top until they became jagged peaks, like stone teeth splitting the sky.

Another Simian blocked the beautiful view, overtaking Farris. Just as the crewman was about to pass, one of the beadhbhs caught up and sprang onto his back; they both went tumbling to the ground. Farris didn’t look back to see what happened next.

The Pyromancer ran the furthest ahead, his cape flapping wildly behind him. As the path veered back into the dense forest, he glanced back.

“We can’t outrun them forever!” he cried, vaulting over a fallen tree covered in thick green leaves. By the time Farris reached it, the others cowered behind the red mage and Sir Bearach. Both men stood facing Farris.

“Get behind me, and don’t move!”

Farris ducked under the knight’s outstretched claymore and turned just in time to see the last beadhbh spring over the tree, its talons stretched out and pointing forwards like curved knives. Everything seemed to slow as the beadhbh glided gracefully through the air. Sir Bearach spun on the spot, bellowing obscenities as the beast connected with the blade.

An instant later, the knight crouched over the severed body of the black beadhbh.

A man in white uniform stood by his side. Farris recognised him from the ship’s bridge.

Another navigator, perhaps?

“Sir,” he said. “Are… are you sure it’s safe for us to stop?”