Members of the company were already falling back, moving out of the area of attack as swiftly as they could manage. Pleysia, the girl Oriantha, a couple of the Trolls, and Crace Coram led the way. Khyber Elessedil, still fighting off swarms of giant insects, backed away last. With the insects in pursuit, everyone began a ragged retreat, swatting at their winged attackers while trying to stay clear of the Procks.

Redden and Railing had heard about Procks from the Rovers. Found mostly in the mountains of the Eastland, they surfaced in communities hundreds strong. They were living rock, an impossibility given life through a magic long since lost and forgotten. They swallowed anything that came within reach, catching hold of the unwary and chewing their victims to pieces even as they struggled to free themselves.

The company kept fighting off the snapping mouths, struggling to reach safe ground while avoiding the lethal stings and bites of the insects. It took longer than it should have, and both twins were exhausted by the time they had gone far enough that they could consider themselves safe.

Farshaun plopped down beside them, winded and red-faced. His arms and face were swollen with stings and bites, and there was blood on his hands. “Did you see what happened to that Troll? His leg went down into a Prock’s mouth, and that was it. Skint and I tried to pull him free, but it was no use. Once they’ve got you, there’s no getting away.”

“I didn’t think there were any Procks in the Westland,” Railing said, wiping sweat from his face and finding blood, as well. “I thought they were only in the Ravenshorn.”

Farshaun gave him a look. “There’s everything out here in the Breakline. Everything you don’t want to find.”

The other members of the company had worked their way free of the Prock community by now, and the flying insects had broken off their attack and flown back to wherever they had come from. Close by where the twins were huddled with Farshaun, Khyber Elessedil was confronting the Speakman.

“Why didn’t you warn us?” she demanded of him. “Why didn’t you say something?”

The Speakman, matchstick arms and legs collapsed against his scarecrow body, looked at her as if he had never seen her before. His voice was surprisingly soft. “How could I warn you? I never saw those things before. Any of them. Last time I was here, they weren’t.”

Farshaun came up and crouched beside him. “Speakman. Did you say they were new? But that isn’t possible. Things don’t change out here. You know that.”

“I know. But they have.”

Redden and Railing inched closer to listen in.

“How many did we lose?” Farshaun asked the Ard Rhys.