Before Connor could speak, Zaryae rushed up to the edge of the circle. “We’re in danger,” she warned. “There’s a storm coming, a bad one. If it gets between us and Bay-town, we’re not likely to make it back alive.”
“I’ve just heard the same from the Wraith Lord,” Connor said. “We’re in trouble.”
“True night is no time for mortals to be out on the ice,” Grimur argued. “We could lose you to the howlers or capreols—or to the tunnelers—as easily as to a storm.”
“We have three mages,” Nidhud said, looking to Grimur and to Connor as the Wraith Lord’s proxy. “And we’re all fighters. Beasts can be defeated, but storms are more powerful than most magic. I agree with the Wraith Lord. We have no choice but to head back now.”
“Can I say that trying to outrun a storm is a really bad idea?” Kane objected. “It’s suicide.”
“Your shelter was not designed to withstand a full storm,” Grimur replied. “And if a storm brings feet of fresh snow with it, you’ll find it much harder to hike back.”
“We spent the day walking,” Kane argued. “Now you want us to turn around and hike another day?”
“You don’t have provisions to be stranded here,” Grimur countered. “The nearest of my caches is still a two-candlemark walk from here, in good weather. And while you would have difficulty navigating in a storm, the magicked beasts have no such problem. You would be easy prey.”
Kane looked from Grimur to Nidhud, then to Connor and Zaryae. He threw his arms up and rolled his eyes. “All right. Since you’re not going to listen, let’s strike camp and get going. Bay-town isn’t getting any closer.”
Zaryae went to talk to the twins while Connor walked back to where Verran was standing. “I heard,” Verran said before Connor could tell him about the change in plans. “And for once, I actually agree with Kane. I think it’s suicide.” He frowned. “The only problem is, staying here is even worse.”
They packed up the tents and provisions quickly, although Connor could not help a wistful sigh as they loaded the equipment back on the sledges. He could have used a night’s sleep, especially when he already ached from the day’s trek. He saw the same weariness in the others’ faces, along with a reflection of the fear that he felt in the pit of his stomach.
“If we shift the provisions around, perhaps one or two people could rest on the sledges for a bit, while the others pull,” Zaryae suggested. “We might not drop in our tracks as quickly.”
“Grimur and I can help,” Nidhud offered. “That will relieve you of some of the burden.”
Reluctantly, they left the relative shelter of the mountain pass and headed back across the ice. Grimur and Nidhud took the first turn pulling the sledges, and where it would take two of the others to pull each of the sledges with the extra weight of a person on it, the two talishte barely seemed slowed by the load. The twilight glow cast the snow in an eerie blue, making everything around them seem unreal. Connor and Zaryae, by virtue of their injuries, were the first to rest on the sledges. Although Connor doubted that he would be able to sleep as the sledges ground across the ice, he found himself waking from deep slumber two candlemarks later.
“Verran and Desya are going to rest next,” Borya said as he exchanged places with Nidhud to help pull the sledge. Kane shouldered into the other harness, while Nidhud went to scout the path ahead.
Although it had been less than a day since they had passed this way, their tracks were already obliterated by the constant wind. No new snow had fallen yet, and what remained from previous storms had become crystalized with ice. The wind picked up the frozen snow and swept it across the ice, stinging and sharp when it hit skin. The temperature had grown much colder. Connor and the others were glad for their heavy boots and coats, hats, scarves, and mittens.
Nidhud returned half a candlemark later. “We’re being shadowed by a pack of howlers,” he reported. “Probably the ones that caught your scent on the way in.”
“I thought you said the howlers weren’t likely to bother us if talishte were with us?” Verran questioned.
Nidhud raised an eyebrow. “And they haven’t—at least, not yet. They’re merely following us, for now. Most of the time, howlers won’t attack talishte. But if they’re hungry and game is scarce, or they believe their pack is up to the challenge, then they may test their strength.”
Though his muscles still ached and he would gladly have slept much longer, the few candlemarks of sleep helped more than Connor expected. Don’t tarry, the Wraith Lord warned him. The weather is moving in quickly, faster than I originally expected. You may not make it back to Grimur’s cabin before it strikes, but the less time you spend in the storm, the better your chances.
We can’t move any faster, Connor grumbled. Nidhud and Grimur could, but the rest of us could never keep up, even if we abandoned the sledges. We’ll have to do the best we can.
By Connor’s calculations, they should have about five more candlemarks to go before they would reach Grimur’s cabin. The faster they could cover ground, the better their odds against any predator stalking them.
Snow began to fall, and the wind grew stronger. The group kept on trudging as Kane and Borya took their turn to rest. On the horizon, Connor could make out slouching silhouettes that moved in parallel to them. Howlers, waiting for a chance to strike.
“We’re almost to where the deep snows give the tunnelers room to maneuver,” Grimur warned. “Once we get there, we’ll need to spread out more so we put less pressure on the top snow. That way, there’s less chance of someone breaking through into the tunnelers’ holes.”
Connor glanced back to the horizon. The howlers were gone. A warning prickled at the back of his neck.
“Danger!” Zaryae cried. Dark shapes seemed to appear out of the snow itself as the howlers ran toward them from all directions, a dozen strong.
“Kane! Borya! We’re under attack!” Zaryae shouted as she drew her short sword, a hunting knife clutched in her left hand. Connor and the others readied their swords, while Nidhud and Grimur chose a direction to face off with the charging beasts.
Help me! Connor summoned the Wraith Lord. Whether I fight with my sword or with your magic, I’m starting out tired and injured. I can’t protect them on my own.
Nidhud swept his right arm in a powerful arc, and two of the howlers went reeling, slammed by an invisible force. Grimur pushed forward with both palms out, sending two more of the beasts tumbling head over tail. Verran had a sling and a pouch of rocks, and a wicked knife hung at his belt. He sent his missiles singing through the cold air with deadly aim. One of his rocks struck a howler between the eyes, and the beast dropped to the ground, unconscious if not dead. Kane’s sword held off a thickly built gray-and-brown howler that sprang with a deep, guttural growl.
Borya and Desya echoed the howls of the predators as they slashed at the beasts with their blades, managing to stay out of range of the huge, powerful paws and wickedly sharp claws. Zaryae positioned herself to watch Connor’s back. A dark-gray male came slinking toward Connor, sizing up its prey. One ear was notched from old fights, lips parted over large, sharp teeth.
The now-familiar tingle of magic surged through Connor as the Wraith Lord possessed him. Something alerted the howler to the change, because its eyes narrowed and it slowed its advance. Connor did not wait for it to spring. The Wraith Lord’s spirit swept away his exhaustion and dampened the pain, making him faster and stronger. With a roar of his own, Connor rushed toward the howler, moving with the deadly confidence of a warrior who had seen a thousand years of battle.
A second howler headed for Connor, only to stop in its tracks as a ball of packed, hard snow smashed across its forehead. Zaryae grinned in triumph, and the howler reoriented itself warily, giving Grimur the chance to send the monster reeling with a blast of magic. Zaryae made another ice ball, and this time, her target was the howler attacking Borya. Her aim held true, smacking the creature on the side of the head over one ear. Its hesitation was e
nough to give Borya the opening he needed to dive forward and sink his blade into the beast’s side.
Connor knew that while Zaryae could defend herself at close quarters with a knife, swordplay was not her strength. Her well-aimed ice balls were not as lethal as Verran’s sling and rocks, but as she danced back and forth, emerging to throw and then dodging behind the fighters again, she kept the creatures distracted, and harried them enough to give Connor and the others an advantage.
“Are you crazy?” Kane shouted at Zaryae. The howler took a swipe with its huge paw and missed Kane by inches, a strike that would have torn out his midsection, but Kane twisted at the last minute and brought his sword down hard, severing the howler’s head.
The Wraith Lord’s full focus was on the howler that stalked Connor. Whatever the howler made of the change that had come over Connor, the creature was not willing to give up without a fight. Behind him, Connor heard the shouts of Borya, Desya, and Kane as they fought the howlers, and the hum and thwack of rocks hitting their targets with deadly accuracy as Verran wielded his sling and Zaryae lobbed ice balls. Nidhud and Grimur were keeping half the pack occupied, forcing them back with magic that threw the creatures across the ice time and again. Undaunted, the monsters always returned.
It was a test of wills, Connor thought, to see which one of them could get close enough to strike. He had to get in close to land a blow with his sword, but that put him in reach of the howler’s massive paw and its curved, strong claws. He moved in swiftly, getting in a strike that bloodied the howler’s front shoulder but did not sever the limb. The howler roared in anger and pain and sprang, and Connor felt the swish of a paw barely miss him, while the claws opened a gash on the sleeve of his coat.
Not for the first time, Connor rued the fact that although he was faster and stronger than without the Wraith Lord’s help, possession did not grant him full talishte abilities. Against mortal opponents, the edge he gained was enough. But the howlers were creatures of the wild-magic storms, unnatural beasts endowed with more than their share of lethal abilities.
Connor saw an opportunity and took it, diving toward the howler to slide his sword between its ribs. The beast wheeled, striking a glancing blow that caught Connor on the shoulder and sent him sprawling. The howler gave a mighty shake and Connor’s sword went flying, only to skitter away on the icy crust of snow. The beast’s claws had raked his left shoulder, opening up his coat and skin. Blood ran down his arm, and the injury combined with the force of his landing slowed Connor’s reactions. He saw the howler crouch, then leap, claws outstretched, fangs bared.
A rush of power filled him, and before he could fully register his reaction, Connor’s right hand came up and fire erupted from his palm. The blast struck the howler square in the chest, engulfing it in flames and sending it flying through the air, hard enough to crash through the skin of ice on top of the snow when it landed. The beast screamed, its thick fur on fire, writhing as it tried to free itself. The air was full of the stench of burned hair and flesh.
“What in Raka are you?” Kane swore, registering what had happened despite his own desperate fight.
“Angry.” Connor rose to his feet, still full of the Wraith Lord’s power. He strode toward the howlers Kane and Verran fought. One of the beasts was dead, its skull cracked open by Verran’s rocks, lying in a pool of blood in the snow. Another was dazed, shaking its head after a glancing hit. Kane danced in and out of range of a third howler, and both he and the creature looked the worse for the wear. Kane’s shoulder was bloodied, and he had a gash on one thigh. The howler had a deep, bloody slit in its side, so that the flesh hung away revealing its ribs. Another strike had cost it an ear and part of the skin on its face. Still the howler was not going to give up easily.
“Move!” Connor yelled. The streak of fire he sent barely missed Kane, and struck the injured howler with its full force, enveloping its body in flames. The creature screamed, but the fire was hot enough to peel the skin from the bones, and within seconds, the howler collapsed dead in a charred heap.
Glancing around, Connor could see that half the pack was down, dead, or wounded too badly to get up again. That left six howlers still fighting. Nidhud had stopped trying to throw the howlers, and instead used his magic to grasp the huge animals in an invisible grip, then twist or bend them to snap the spine. Grimur’s magic crafted an invisible claw of his own that could tear out the beast’s throat or crush its skull. That left four.
Borya and Desya, to their credit, had taken down two of the creatures with just their sword skill and quick reflexes. The snow around them was trampled and bloody as they fought two of the remaining monsters. Borya looked as if he were actually enjoying the match, while Desya was favoring his left leg, and Connor could see that Desya’s pants were dark with blood.
Connor could feel the effects of channeling the Wraith Lord. He was waning and he knew it. Though he had sustained the magic much longer aboard the ship, he was not fully recovered enough to withstand another outpouring of equal energy. I might have one more blast in me before I land on my face in the snow, Connor warned. Let’s make it count.
Before he could determine a target, a new shadow rose out of the semidarkness behind them. This figure was much larger than the howlers, a massive form that stood as tall as a draft horse but even more thickly set, and from its head sprang a rack of antlers easily as wide across as a man’s height. The four remaining howlers abandoned their fight and ran for the shadows.
The new creature moved as fast as a horse at full gallop, straight at Zaryae. Before Connor could get a clear view of what was happening, Kane ran into the path of the monster, shoving Zaryae out of the way. The beast ducked its head and rammed into Kane with the full force of its flat, broad antlers, edged as sharp as any sword. The antlers caught Kane in the belly and cut him in two, scooping his upper body into the air and tossing it aside as the lower half sank into the bloody ground.
“Kane! Zaryae!” Connor took a step, but Zaryae was between him and what he guessed must be a capreol, so sending a fiery blast was out of the question until he could get a clear shot.
Grimur was the first to move, and he jumped into the air, waving his hands frantically over his head. “Hey! Hey! Over here!” he shouted. The capreol snorted and pawed its front hooves. Grimur took off with a blur of talishte speed, charging the capreol with an answering bellow. The huge, horned creature snorted and stamped its forelegs, answering the challenge. At the last moment, Grimur veered off at an angle with the capreol in pursuit.
“Has he gone mad?” Verran said with disbelief.
“Everyone! Follow but stay back!” Nidhud shouted. Connor mustered his remaining strength and headed after Grimur at a distance.
Connor’s boot crunched down through an inch of snow and he froze. Grimur said we were close to the end of the rock shelf. That means the deep snow, and tunnelers. And Grimur’s heading right out into it with the capreol behind him.
“Stop there!” Grimur shouted as Nidhud ventured closer. The capreol galloped across the hardened snow at its full speed. Grimur’s movements looked more like skating, and Connor realized that the talishte was using his speed to reduce the weight he placed on the snow, in case the tunnelers had hollowed it out beneath him.
“Connor! Fire—now!” Trusting that Grimur could get out of the way, the Wraith Lord’s power rose once more within Connor and he thrust out his arm, releasing a torrent of fire that hit the capreol broadside in its huge torso. Grimur’s silhouette was barely visible through the flames, but suddenly the crust of snow crumbled beneath where he and the monster had been standing. The break sounded like thunder, and a huge sinkhole spread across the ice, sending a cloud of snow and ice crystals into the air. The capreol bellowed, and dropped into the sinkhole, its hooves scrabbling to find solid ground. Grimur vanished.
“Grimur!” Connor shouted. He took a step toward the sinkhole.
“Don’t move!” Nidhud shouted. “The whole crust could go. Back up—slow
ly.”
Before Connor could argue, he saw something rising amid the snowcloud. Grimur’s head and shoulders came into view, and then the rest of the talishte, hovering in the air. Grimur set himself down on the ice a safe distance from the sinkhole, unharmed.
From deep in the tunnelers’ ice shaft came a horrible, screeching sound. It was quickly drowned out by the vicious growls of dozens of tunnelers, attacking their helpless prey. The sound made the blood drain from Connor’s face as he pictured the carnage in the close confines of the ice tunnels. The rest of the group was waiting restlessly for them to return. Unsure of how much the others could see, Connor gave a terse recap.
“What do we do about Kane?” Borya asked, nodding toward where the fighter’s remains lay.
“I will see to him.” Grimur’s expression was somber. He collected Kane’s savaged body and carried the pieces a short distance, paying no attention to the blood that dripped in a steady rivulet down his arms. When he had reached a suitable place, he set down Kane’s body and then used his magic to scrape out a deep trench for a grave. He made another gesture, and the icy snow fell back into place, covering the body, and then added a thrust of power to harden the ice in place. For a moment, Grimur stood over the grave, head bowed.
“If the land between here and Grimur’s cabin is lousy with tunnelers, and the crust is broken, how do we get back without ending up like that monster with the antlers?” Verran hissed, keeping his voice low.
“We move carefully, spread out to minimize the weight on the ice’s surface,” Nidhud replied. “And hope that luck is with us.”
Connor had already come to the conclusion that neither day nor night were safe anywhere on Edgeland’s far ice, even with the help of two powerful talishte, but he kept his opinion to himself. Grimur wiped his hands in the snow to remove the worst of the blood and then headed back to join them.
“Stay about six feet apart,” Grimur warned them. “We want to avoid putting too much weight on the ice, but if we get a true blizzard, we don’t want to be separated. Nidhud will go first, and use his magic to sense the tunnelers beneath the surface. Connor should go second, so that any information the Wraith Lord shares with him can affect our path. I’ll bring up the rear, in case we’re attacked again.”
Shadow and Flame Page 37
