I forced myself not to look back as the hiss of water turned to steam was washed out by keelish screams of agony. Histy had never said anything about how she could use magic, and I realized how little attention I had paid the most senior members of the swarm. I hadn't learned many of their names, I didn't know how long they'd lived, or much of anything else. Another of my failings as a leader, failings I could address so long as I could bring the few dozen keelish that remained alive to safety.
Without looking behind me, I felt the death of the Wavespeaker as the water that had continued to pull us back fell and resumed flowing freely downriver. "Yes! Keep going, we may escape yet!" I yelled out with renewed vigor and the keelish around me rallied as we all pushed even harder through the several foot-deep waters. Even through the boosts from [Fanatic's Fortitude] and [Conqueror's Rebuke], my lungs burned and my legs ached so deeply I struggled to continue my path.
All the while, it took a conscious effort to tear my attention from behind me as the warlike cries of keelish quickly shifted to agonized whimpers, and then, again, to silence. I could hear a strident human male voice giving a command, but I couldn't hear him clearly enough to discern his words, and I didn't care to listen to him. Instead, I continued pushing onward, glancing around to see which of my elites, which of those I knew personally yet lived.
Sybil remained close to me, and by her were Shemira, Took, and Vefir. On my other side Foire, holding Trai, along with Brutus, Ytte, and Percral struggled through the river, never looking up but endeavoring to maintain their balance as we fought to make land at the far side of the river. Solia, Silf and Etra were in our wake, only sheer determination carrying them onward as they continued to flag in their exhaustion. Joral had somehow kept nearly all the wolfstags alive, and the Wave Wolfstags used their magic to keep Arwa and her pups from being swept away by the water.
Only a dozen more keelish, most of those being from my own brood, and the last few from Joral's. Only half of my own brood remained, those who, even if I'd never said it, I considered to be those who would serve alongside me as the original Keel of this generation. In total, the swarm was smaller in number than my brood had been at hatching. Twenty six keelish and twenty wolfstags were all that remained. There were more than one thousand of us just a month ago, and there was still no guarantee for survival for the two dozen that remained.
I glanced behind us, hoping that the humans had, for whatever reason, given up on pursuing us. Instead, I saw a growing pillar of flames that threatened our existence.
"Solia!" I shouted, pointing behind us. Through the fog of exhaustion, she looked back and saw the approaching blast. With a wordless cry of effort, she raised a hand and parted the flames so that they passed on both sides of us remaining survivors. As the fire died down and we continued our attempt at escape, I hazarded another look back. Several of the humans, four of them, continued on towards us. They all rode along the Earthspeaker's back, his body covered with armor of living stone and handholds as he flowed forward without having to raise his feet. On his back, a couple of the humans seemed to be trying to do something to continue their assault on us, but we had made landfall.
"KEEP RUNNING!" I shouted as I followed my own command. I fought to regain enough of my breath to continue giving orders. "Once we're under the cover of the trees, scatter into packs! Maybe we'll be able to ambush some of them and keep them from continuing pursuit! Focus on the ones that aren't covered in rock!" The wheezing of lungs and the clatter of feet on the shore were all the response my swarm gave me, but I could feel their support. Before we could make it into the forest before us, an eerie, unplaceable feeling tickled my spine, and I immediately gestured for my keelish to gather close.
"Hello, we're coming in. Please don't kill." I said, first in keelish, then in the human tongue. Then, hesitantly but still quickly, I led my two dozen keelish and wolfstags into the forest's protection. Something was watching, but I couldn't tell where or what. I whirled to look at Foire, hoping he could see what I couldn't, and he nodded, understanding my question. He shifted Trai to his other arm and pointed to a particular shadow, deeper than the rest, a mere 20 or so feet away. Then again at a second shadow 30 feet in a different direction. Then a third, and a fourth.
"There's a lot of them." He said. More than I can be sure I see."
The forest here, just as I'd thought from a distance, was wilder, more untamed, more natural than the jungles of the Martanimis. The constant whine of insects filled the air, and the trees and brush grew so thickly that only speckles of shadow filtered through the foliage to light the ground. The ground was covered in leaf litter, gnarled roots, and the occasional bone, and it squished pleasantly between my toes. Behind us, I could hear the humans make landfall, the sand and stones clicking together under their steps.
When I tried to lead the vestiges of my swarm forward to continue to try to escape the implacable Speakers, a piercing voice rang out, harsh and grating in the human tongue.
"Stay where you are, warlocks. You do know that if you profane the soil of the Wilds it will be repaid in kind, right? And your mere presence is a blight to be repaid one hundredfold."
The voice was at once authoritative and derisive, though the words were obviously not the speaker's natal tongue, the "s"s sibilant and unnaturally long. This voice, whoever and whatever it was, absolutely hated the people from the other side of the river, and the humans seemed to know who or what it was. Our pursuers stopped, their heels only barely out of the waters of the deadly river. Before they could respond, though, the original speaker stepped forward from the nearest pool of shadow, the first one that Foire had pointed out to me. It revealed itself as a creature I'd never heard of nor seen in my previous life.