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grave.”
    “The grave?” Nath said, eyeing the lone underling fighter that remained. It was the one with emerald eyes and two fine blades. “Whose grave?”
    “Our graves.”
    ***
    Corpses. Underling corpses. More than a dozen of them cut down in their prime. Some were jammed in the murk with their legs tethered up with sticks. A bald one’s face was split open. Another one was cut in half.
    Nath covered his nose and fanned away the flies and gnats.
    “Do you not bury them? How can you leave them exposed like that?”
    “It keeps that fiend away. He’ll not hunt again where he's already passed. It’s a sanctuary.” Oran was gazing up at one of his dead brethren that hung in a tree. He'd been scalped. “The monster even takes trophies. How sick is that? Twisted and diabolical, is it not?”
    Nath hacked a cough and spat the foul taste from his mouth. Indeed, the carnage was a grisly scene. The underlings, a well-armed and trained fighting force judging by the look of them, had been massacred. He picked his way between the bodies, inspecting them with his eyes. “What in the world does this monster fight with?”
    “He carries an axe. Like your sword, it’s almost as big as a man. They say he strikes like a snake. Twirls it with the ease of a stick.” Oran nodded his head at one of the underlings from the small force that accompanied them. He was rough looking, and his right arm was missing. Oran took him by the good arm and said to Nath, “He saw the Darkslayer and lived.”
    The ruby-eyed underling fighter nodded.
    “He is a Badoon,” Oran said. “One of our finest hunters and soldiers. He is cherished and he is vengeful. He’ll stop at nothing to kill this slayer.”
    Nath studied an underling that looked to be pinned to a tree with his own spear. “Was this slayer even wounded?”
    Oran chittered back and forth with the wounded underling and said back to Nath, “He falls and then he rises, they say.”
    By Nath’s best guess, the corpses were weeks old, maybe longer. It seemed the marsh's sulfur and salty waters had a way of preserving bodies from decay. He pinched some brown tree moss between his fingers. Even it smelled bad. Everything stank, and it seemed a shame that these underlings were forced to live here. He eyed an underling filling up a canteen with the foul marsh waters and said with a sour face, “You drink this?”
    “We’ve adapted. It’s a unique capability of our race. Perhaps some of these waters will quench your own palate.” Oran took the canteen from the underling who had just filled it. He offered it to Nath. “Drink and replenish yourself.”
    Nath pushed out his hand as if to push the canteen away. “No, thank you. I’m not thirsty.”
    “And you’ve eaten very little at all. You need to fill yourself. Be strong for the hunt.”
    Jaw set like a stone, Nath balled up his fist. “I’ve seen enough, Oran. And the only thing I hunger for is revenge for your and my people.” He smacked his fist into his hand. “It’s time this slayer was slain.”

 
    CHAPTER 11
     
     
    Back in Oran’s lair, Nath stood on the sandy beach staring down at the black waters. He was convinced the underlings needed his aid, and that that was what he was here for. Besides, it was the only way he could learn about himself and others like him.
    “You’re a hunter, are you not?” Oran said, hooking a rucksack over Nath’s shoulders. “Yes, yes, of course you are. Fine hunters your kind are. The best. This food will preserve you if needed. And you may need to cover yourself. It’s possible you will have to venture into the cities to track this miscreant down. He’s a man by day, we believe, and demon by night. We’ll see. Rather, you’ll see.”
    Even with his memories gone, Nath didn’t have any trouble feeling comfortable about hunting. He wouldn’t go hungry, if that was what the underling was worried about. No, he’d be fine. Staring down into the black waters, he watched the