“Monsters,” Thom echoed. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Phelan held up a hand. “You said to the west.”
Gwilym’s gaze bounced between the pair before he swallowed, nodding in answer to both questions. “Yes, monsters, yes, in the west. It was on the other side of the lake.”
“Did they come from the west?” Phelan asked, his lips barely moving.
Thom looked at him sidelong, frowning. Why the hell would that matter? What is he trying to get at?
Phelan’s gaze slid toward Thom and their eyes met, stark terror in the once-druid’s eyes. “Anything that’s come out of the west either survived the destruction of Yellowstone or appeared because of it. Neither possibility bodes well for us, my friend.”
He’s got a point there. Thom grimaced. “What about the rest of the pack? Any losses?”
“No, we’re still mostly in one piece. Injuries only. They’re a few days behind. Like I said, I’m the fastest.” Gwilym looked at Phelan. “They’re still on your scent.”
“I know,” Phelan said with a grimace. “They’ve caught up with us a few times since you left. There’s nothing you could have done about it.”
“What kind of monsters?” Thom asked again. Some kind of bizarre comfort that another group is having as many problems as we are when it comes to things they’ve never seen before.
“Women with wings of fire and claws the size of steak knives,” their guest said, huddling in the bush. “Bat-winged lions with gold eyes, giant lizards that breathe poison. I’ve glimpsed some myself, heard tell of others. The winged women attacked us while we were sheltering with the community. We turned them back, but it was a near thing.”
Phelan shuddered, looking at Thom. “This isn’t good.”
“It doesn’t sound like it,” Thom agreed. “But what does it mean?”
“That there’s far more at play here than we ever dared to think about. We’re in trouble, fear fiach. We’re in trouble.”
whew…….. more dangers.