The thunder of hooves on firm ground tore his gaze from the bones to the sight of a huge grey bulk erupting from the water. The rest of the company had followed them into the confines of the kraken’s skeleton, all staring at the beast as it charged towards the wall of ribs. It stood close to five feet tall at the shoulder with a bulbous body and stubby legs that nevertheless propelled its bulk at considerable speed. The most salient feature, however, was the huge vaguely equine head and gaping jaws, each corner of which featured a curved, straight-edged tooth. Whilst these were clearly not the teeth of a predator, Pilgrim knew the force of the jaws’ bite alone would be enough to crush the life from any man.

“What in the name of all the Risen is that?” Book asked, eyes wide with fearful bafflement.

“Water-horse,” Seeker replied. She had her bow half-drawn and eyes locked on the animal as it drew ever closer. Next to her Player was frantically working the windlass of his crossbow. Pilgrim doubted either weapon would be capable of bringing down such a monster, even without the animus ichor flowing through its veins.

He hefted the sword as the water-horse came within a dozen yards of the ribs, but paused as it came to a sudden skidding halt. Letting out a loud huff the animal shook its head violently from side to side, taking a cautious step forward then retreating several feet with an alarmed grunt.

“The kraken was the most fearsome and powerful creature ever known to earth or sea,” Priest said. “Even in death, all beasts retain the instinct to avoid it.”

The water-horse gave off a low, rattling gurgle from deep within its throat as it began to pace back and forth beyond the ribs. It continued to stare at them all the while, eyes never blinking.

“Too scared to charge,” Book observed. “But also too intent on our end to retreat. I don’t give much for our chances should we venture beyond these bones.”

Seeker’s bow creaked as she slowly drew back the string, her gaze locked on the water-horse. It came to a halt as if sensing her attention, nostrils blowing twin gouts of steam as it matched her stare. Pilgrim was about to voice his doubts about the efficacy of assailing the beast with a single arrow, but stopped at the sight of Seeker’s unblinking eyes and the unwavering steadiness of the arrow jutting beyond the bow stave. She continued to draw it until the fletching brushed her cheek, whereupon she let out a slow breath and loosed.