“Time to go home,” Gosto said jovially. “Come on, lads, let’s put on some speed. We’re holding these ladies back.”
Lakanta started up the slope again. Was it her imagination, or did the air smell more foul than it had a few paces back? She sniffed. Probably the remains of some other poor fellow that the thraiks had carried off.
The shining walls of the corridor narrowed ahead, and the faint rush of cool air felt stronger. If it weren’t for the Summerbee brothers, she would have stumped up the slope at a good pace.
Another swirl of air stirred the skirts near her knees. Was there a cross-corridor beyond the bottleneck? With her stone sense, she would have felt it. Dear mother of the earth, it had been too long since she had spent so much time belowground.
The low breeze came again, this time behind her. She glanced down. A low, dark shape paced her on the right. She dodged to the left. Her knee struck something warm. She looked down into glowing red eyes. Black lips drew back to show rows of gleaming fangs. Lakanta gasped. Rin let out a scream and reared on her hind legs, striking out at the beasts.
“What are they?” she shrieked.
“Charnives!” Gosto bellowed. “Run for your lives!”
“Help me!” The youngest boy fell to the floor and was dragged away into the darkness.
“Marco!” Teldo shouted, running to catch him. The fire in his palm roared higher. He threw a gout at the nearest face. It turned tail and fled into the darkness. The Summerbee lads followed the forlorn cries of their brother.
Lakanta kicked at the creatures, about the size of foxes or medium-sized dogs. A host of them grabbed the hem of her skirts and tried to drag her down. Others leaped to catch her arms or hands in their teeth. With difficulty, she fended them away. One bit down on her left wrist, worrying it. She gasped with pain but kept her head. She snatched the club from her belt and dealt the beast a whack on the skull. It collapsed where it stood. Lakanta jerked her wrist free, hissing at the pain of the four seeping fang marks. Some of the others stopped attacking her and tore into the body of their fellow.
“Not too particular what you eat, are you?” she said grimly, smacking blindly at heads or spines of the remainder. The ones she wounded never made a sound when she struck them. They recoiled or died as silently as they attacked. It was oddly terrifying to face a foe that she could only see or smell, never hear. A weight struck her in the back. She fell to her knees. Hot breath on her neck was the only warning before the sharp teeth closed on the nape of her neck. She staggered forward, clawing at the charnive’s rough pelt.
“For the Windmanes!” Rin cried. Lakanta heard the crack of a whip. The weight dropped abruptly. The hot breath stopped. Lakanta turned to see her friend trampling at least three charnives into the ground. More leaped at her legs and belly. Lakanta steadied herself on the wall and forced her way past the thrashing bodies to her friend’s side. Two of the charnives attacking Rin turned to leap at Lakanta. She flailed at them with the club, not caring what she struck. One took a nip out of her right arm. She battered it in the face until it reared and fled. She hung against the wall, swiping at the second charnive. A hot stream ran from the wound down the back of her neck. She knew it was blood, but there wasn’t time to stanch or bandage the wound.
“Are you all right?” the centaur asked.
“I’ll do,” Lakanta said, swallowing hard. “Might not have in a moment. My thanks.”
“We must get to Tildi’s brothers,” Rin said. She reared high and came down hard. The skull of a charnive crunched beneath her hooves. Its surviving kin shouldered her away to attack the raw flesh. Lakanta cringed at the sound of teeth grinding bones between them.
“I see flame,” Lakanta said, pointing to the faint glow of green downslope.
“On my back,” Rin said. A hand touched Lakanta’s shoulder. She clasped it, and was swept upward. She landed on the warm, curved withers. “Hold on!”
Lakanta clung on as best she could. She felt the powerful muscles under the lightly furred pelt gather and extend. Rin leaped over the massing runes limned on the half-seen shapes. A few bounded after her, but she outdistanced them easily. They seemed less interested in the two of them, now that they had plenty of their own dead to eat.
“Thank the Stallion that the mad wizard feeds his guard dogs as poorly as he does his prisoners,” Rin said.
“Aye,” Lakanta said grimly. “Though there had better be four brothers left alive, or I’ll kill the man myself.”
They spotted the faint green light less than a hundred yards downslope, past a dozen dead charnives. Lakanta squinted past Rin’s shoulder. Teldo stood over Marco’s body, flame flickering on both palms. Twenty or more charnives surrounded them, braced and waiting. Lakanta could tell only the magical fire kept them from leaping on the smallfolk and devouring them to the bone. Teldo was growing weak. The flames flickered low. The one in his right hand went out, and the beasts on that side rose to spring. Gosto and Pierin pelted them with the rocks they had gathered from the ruins of their cell.
Rin charged into the midst of the circle, kicking and snapping her whip. Lakanta, heedless of her own wounds, slipped off her friend’s back and knelt beside Marco. His wide brown eyes were open. She helped him to sit up.
“I’m alive,” the boy said with a brave smile that won Lakanta’s heart. “Just bruised, is all.”
“Behind you!” Gosto shouted, and flung a rock over her head. Lakanta heard scuffling on the stone floor. Another one fled. “That’s all of mine, boys.”
Pierin fished two stones out of the remains of his shirt and passed them to his brother. “Make these count, then!”
Rin danced and reared, her eyes shining green with the reflected light. Another charnive fell, and was pounced upon by the three beasts nearest it. Teldo spun around suddenly and launched the fire in his hands at the hunters behind him. The green fire adhered to the fur of the two it struck. One let out a gasp, the only sound Lakanta had ever heard one make. The flames spread, singing its filthy fur. It raced in a circle, trying to escape from its own immolation. It crashed into the other burning charnive, rebounded, then sprang at it as if blaming it for its pain. Taking advantage of the confusion, Rin and the Summerbees struck at the hunters. Pierin cried out as one of them sank its teeth into his right arm. He cracked it on the head with a rock.
“Burn it!” he shouted.
Teldo drew back his hands and stared at the palms. “That’s all,” he said simply. “I’ve no more in me.”
“I’ve enough strength,” Lakanta said, rising to her feet. She brandished the club at the glowing eyes. “Come and try your luck.”
Several of them charged her at once. She braced herself, then swung hard at the first beast. The two who were on fire ran away, leaving her staring at moving runes, hoping she was not going to strike a smallfolk by mistake. Lakanta hit out at anything that came near her. The satisfying thud of the club on bone told her she had scored a solid hit on the pate of one of the charnives. Ignoring the nips and bites as she stooped, she pounded the fallen beast until she was sure it was dead, then backed away to let the others eat it.
“Look out, that’s me!” Pierin’s voice said as she bumped into someone.
“Sorry,” Lakanta said.
“Not you, Teldo,” he said. “Teldo, what’s wrong?”
Lakanta glanced back. Two runes leaned together. It was clear something was wrong. “Rin!” she cried.
“Here!” A large rune hovered before her eyes. She felt out blindly until she touched her friend’s side.
“We’ve got to get away now. Can you outrun them?” Lakanta asked. A nose touched her leg. She struck at the spot with her club before teeth closed on her flesh. It retreated a little.
A snort ruffled Lakanta’s hair. “Can I? Can a Windmane outrun hounds? Of course I can!”
“Well, Teldo and Marco can’t walk.”
“Up on my back, friends,” Rin said. “You shall have a privilege few enjoy. I can carry you all.�
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“Time and Nature smile on you, Princess,” Gosto said. Lakanta found his sturdy rune at her right hand. With his help, they fended off the charnives long enough to help Marco into Rin’s arms. Teldo followed next. Pierin’s rune virtually jumped to the perch, though it was high above his head. Gosto was the last. His fingers touched Lakanta’s head and felt downward for her hand.
“Come up,” he said.
“There isn’t room for me, too,” Lakanta said. In her mind’s eye, she knew that four smallfolk were as much as the centaur could manage. “Run! I’ll follow, I swear it!”
“I go, my friend,” Rin said. “But I am not leaving these caves without you at my side.”
“I’ll catch up,” Lakanta promised.
The centaur’s hooves clattered away. Lakanta was left alone in the dark. At least Tildi’s brothers were safe.
Hot breath surged upon her from three different directions. She smashed out at the nearest source. If she had to die, then this was fitting, where her husband had breathed his last. She would sleep well near his resting place.
“Come on, then!” she said. “See if you like mountain blood!”
A surge of heat came from just near her right wrist. She jerked up her arm and brought it down hard. The beast anticipated her move, for her club whistled through empty air. Something rammed into the back of her knees. She staggered forward. Her outstretched hands felt a wet nose and wiresharp hairs. The charnive snapped its head up and bit at her. Lakanta grunted as a fang caught in the skin of her left hand. She dragged it free, tearing the flesh. Eyes filled with tears, she struck out at the circling runes. When she connected with a body, she belabored it as hard as she could. The charnives retreated to the edge of the corridor. At least a dozen remained. Though she could no longer see their eyes, she could feel them upon her. She was outnumbered. All they needed to do was harry her until her strength was gone. She was determined to make them wait as long as she could.
A rune rushed toward her. Pain lanced up her leg as teeth fixed into her ankle. Lakanta almost dropped her club in shock. She fumbled with it, getting a good grip, then brought it down hard. She connected with something soft, like a neck or a belly. The charnive closed its teeth tighter. She grasped the stick like a butter churn and thudded it down on the beast. The thudding sound told her she had struck the skull. She pounded it over and over, turning when she had to fend off attacks from the side, until the hot mouth sagged open. She kicked the limp creature toward its fellows.
“Is that all you can do?” she asked, her voice ringing with challenge in the hot corridor.
The beasts seemed to confer silently, then gathered, their runes a mass. Lakanta felt behind her until she had her back against the wall. This was the last rally, then. They must bring her down. The first one leaped. She hit out at the shining lines of the rune. She heard a crunch. She must have smashed the creature’s jaw. It dropped. The others surged toward her. Lakanta could hardly separate one tangle of golden lines from another. Teeth and blunt claws grabbed for her flesh from every direction. She struck and punched and kicked with all her might. This child of the mountains will not surrender quietly, she vowed.
The mountain seemed to agree with her. The silence was broken by an enormous BOOM. The charnives halted their attack for a moment. The noise came again, filling the corridor, flooding Lakanta’s ears and making her rib cage vibrate.
The charnives’ runes seemed to vibrate, too. The unexpected sound made them nervous. She was nervous, too, but she refused to show it.
“Yes, I did that,” she told them, pushing away from the wall. “I’m a great wizardess, or hadn’t you heard, eh?” She stalked toward them, swinging the club. “Do you want more of it? I can do it all day!”
The thunderous sound shook the mountain again and again. The charnives sought about in terror. They were used to the silence that camouflaged them. They didn’t like noise. Well, she would add to it.
“Go away!” she shouted. “Go find yourself a hole to hide in! Get away, or I and my kind will find you and hunt you down!”
The threats didn’t move them, but the noise certainly added to their fear. They backed farther and farther away from her. They withdrew with every shout, every bellow, every wild yell.
A few more feet, Lakanta begged, a few more yards and I can run.
At last, the runes pulled back out of sight. Lakanta didn’t wait to see if they were coming back. She started limping uphill, in the direction Rin had gone. Oh, let me be faster than they are!
“Rin! Wait up! Wait for me!”
She set out running uphill after the faint, fast-retreating sound of hoof-beats.
Above you!” cried a deep voice. Magpie ducked low over Tessera’s neck. A long-tailed, winged shadow passed overhead, followed by three smaller winged, pale shapes. With a hard flap of his nearly translucent sails, Lar Braithen surged forward, his left hand stretched out. He caught the thraik by the tail just ten yards off the starboard rail. The beast reversed in midair, trying to snap loose the knight clinging to it. By then the other two had caught up. They flitted in underneath its wings and stabbed for its heart. It twisted and spiraled upward. It could not lose them. The knights were its equal in nimbleness. Braithen let go of his handhold and flapped upward, coming between its powerful legs, and plunged his sword into its belly. The thraik shrieked, but it was done for. It dropped into the sea. Magpie and the others watching cheered. The knights spared them a moment to acknowledge the acclaim, and angled back after the next nearest thraik.
The defenders were holding on, but it could not last. The fear the thraiks had shown at the appearance of the strange new fliers had driven them back for a time. Without having to consider the welfare of their horses, the knights showed themselves to be an unstoppable force. The lord thraik responded by sending in larger and larger groups. He had more than ten times their number. It was only a matter of hours before the humans, changed and otherwise, had run out of resources to hold them back.
The most vital resource of them all was showing signs of exhaustion. Pride had kept Serafina upright through the whole long night. When she stood up to assist the latest fighter whom she had restored to health, Magpie saw her sway on her feet.
“I must go down to her,” he told Inbecca. “Come with me.”
Inbecca’s eye was not dimmed by a night of battle. “Has she not rested this entire time?”
“Not for a moment, that I could see,” he replied. He gave a wave to his father, who kept one eye upon his putative daughter-in-law and one upon the nearest battle between guards and thraiks. Soliandur gave him a worried frown. Magpie shook his head, hoping he would understand that nothing was wrong with Inbecca.
Three horses in stained and torn Rabantae livery clattered to the deck ahead of them. Teryn dismounted and hurried to help a woman who was leaning over her mount’s mane. Magpie turned Tessera toward the stern deck of the Corona, out of the way, and hopped out of the saddle. The piebald mare twitched and shook. He patted her on the neck and beckoned to the werewolf groom who was caring for the Scholardom’s horses to give her feed. Inbecca carefully landed her aunt’s horse and dismounted behind him.
“I am all right,” Serafina protested to Captain Teryn. “Help her to lie down. I will restore her.”
The guard captain crossed her arms. Wisps of her hair that had escaped from her coif flew around her face. “You need healing more than she does. It’s a gouge in her face. It’s painful but not life-threatening. She can wait until morning if necessary.”
“That is not . . . that is not necessary,” Serafina said. Her voice shook.
“It can wait.” Magpie put a hand on her shoulder. She glanced up to see his face and nearly collapsed against his shoulder. Inbecca, beside him, did not display a whit of jealousy. She took Serafina’s arm and led her to a chair inside the cabin. The room was filled with the bodies of the dead, their faces wrapped in sailcloth or their own cloaks. So many, he thought. I did not realize we had lost so m
any. By the shocked look on Inbecca’s face, the reality had not struck her until then, either.
Serafina sat down as though she would never rise again. Her normally straight shoulders slumped in her cloak.
“I apologize for showing weakness,” she said. “Give me a moment to rest. I will be ready to go on.”
Magpie looked at Inbecca. Her sea-blue eyes searched his.
“There must be a way to stop this battle,” Inbecca said. “We cannot last until the wizards return.”
Magpie turned to Teryn. “Let the ruse go, Captain,” he said. “Speak to the abbess and your lord if you must, but it is time to end the charade. Either Olen and the others have succeeded and rescued our friends, or they have not.”
“What are you saying?” the captain asked.
Halcot’s steed trotted to a halt just outside the door. He swung off and strode in. Soliandur was only a pace behind him.
“What is wrong here?” Magpie’s father demanded. “Is something wrong with Mistress Serafina?”
“She is tired, sir,” Inbecca said, putting a gentle hand upon his arm. “As are we all. Your son has a suggestion. I believe we should listen to him.”
His father glared at him. “Well?”
Magpie took a deep breath. He was a king’s third son, not a general, not a wizard, not even a royal consort, but he gave his words all the authority he could muster. “I am saying it is best not to lose any more lives. Let the thraiks have the decoy. What good will it do them? It isn’t really the Great Book. We know that. Either we have given Olen enough time, or there is no hope. We never thought we would face so many thousands.”
Soliandur glared. “Is this cowardice talking, boy?” he asked.
Magpie braced himself against his father’s disapproval. “No, sir, it’s practicality. Can we not trust three wizards to get themselves out of trouble? We were meant to be a diversion, not the action itself.”
A Forthcoming Wizard Page 55
