Kheda shook Risala's shoulder. 'We have to be ready.'
She was still gazing at the monsters the mages had become, mouth open.
The serpent-headed monster lunged at the loal-bodied one. It snapped heavy jaws laden with needle-sharp teeth and the loal-bodied one sprang aside, twisting to lash at the serpent-headed beast with its saw-scaled tail. The serpent beast jabbed and thrust with its monstrous scorpion-like sting but the loal-bodied one dodged it time and again.
The serpent beast's head broadened and grew wide, thick horns, its shoulders swelling, rising on lengthening forelegs. More ox than serpent now, it ducked its head and charged at the loal-bodied beast. Wings sprang from the loal monster's shoulders with a spread that knocked blazing thatch off huts on either side. Half flying, half springing, it leaped clean over the horn-headed monster. Its feet twisted into a new shape in mid-air, growing talons like a cliff eagle's, raking at the horn-headed monster's eyes. Wounded, the horn-headed monster did not bleed. Instead the gashes on its face were rimmed with many-hued magical light.
The horn-headed monster reared up on its hind legs, tail flowing into its spine, hips altering, legs lengthening to support it. It reached out long arms now tipped with claws as long as daggers and seized the loal-bodied one, dragging it out of the air, stabbing again and again, ripping rainbow gashes in the other monster's hide.
That hide turned to a hard carapace. Spiny shell like a coral crab's sheathed the loal beast's limbs. Its wings disappeared and the creature that had been the dragon-hide mage found itself overburdened with the weight of the monster that Dev had now become. It toppled backwards, the armoured beast landing on top of it, the spiral spear of a horned fish lengthening on its forehead even as Kheda watched.
It was Risala's turn to shake him. 'Look!'
Down on the shore, the savage mage painted in crosswise stripes of red ochre was writhing in convulsions. Kheda looked for the other wizards. The wreath wearer was on his knees, one desperate hand raised to his followers, who were backing away in alarm. The palm-crowned mage and the one wearing the garland of logen blooms were luckier in their minions, both supported as they staggered away down the beach.
'They're heading for their boats,' Kheda realised with alarm.
'Catskin, Loal Hands and Butterfly Wings are still by the ditch.' Risala squinted as she picked them out. 'I'm not sure if they're caught up in this magic or not.'
Kheda let slip an exasperated hiss. 'We can't let those two get away.' He stood and drew down a careful aim on the more distant figure. 'I'll take Palm Crown.'
Risala rose beside him and the two arrows flew at almost the same instant. Both missed; Kheda's sailing high and unnoticed over Palm Crown's head while Risala's fell short to lose itself in the confusion milling around the sand.
Kheda lowered his bow and took a long, measured breath. His eyes met Risala's but there were no words to express such a potent blend of chagrin, apprehension and plain rage. They each carefully removed a second tipped arrow from their quivers.
This time they both shot true. The mage belted with logen blooms doubled over as a broad-bladed arrow caught him full in the belly. He writhed on the ground, maddened with the agony of the barbed blade driven deep into his innards, blood dark around his hands as he clutched at the wound.
Palm Crown stumbled as a chisel-tipped shaft went clean through his shoulder, only slowed by the fletching catching in the wound. He fell to his knees, vainly trying to stem the blood from a gash as wide as his hand and as deep. His followers whirled around in consternation, looking this way and that. To Kheda's overwhelming relief, no one looked in the direction of their vantage point. Better still, their cries of alarm went entirely unheard in the general commotion.
The chirrup of Risala's bowstring startled Kheda. He followed her gaze to see the red-painted wizard who'd been racked by convulsions now pinned to the sand by an arrow running through his chest. The wizard struggled feebly then lay still, blood trickling from his mouth.
Taking a careful breath, Kheda assessed their next targets as he reached for another tipped arrow. 'If you can take the one with the butterfly wings, I'll try for our friend with the green wreath.' A quick glance showed him that the dragon-hide mage was now some nightmare sea beast with a plethora of strangling arms while Dev's monster had grown vicious pincers to tear them away.
Kheda's first shot at the wreath-crowned mage went wide and his second skewered a panicking savage who rushed forward at precisely the wrong moment. Ignoring a torrent of muttered curses from Risala, Kheda lowered his bow and closed his eyes before trying again. This time the broad-bladed arrow struck Green Wreath a glancing blow on one thigh, ripping flesh but not biting deep.
No more than a flesh wound. Will that be enough?
'I got Butterfly Wings.' Risala's voice was tight with anguish. 'I can't get any kind of shot at Catskin.'
'Nor me,' Kheda said through gritted teeth. 'Nor Loal Hands.'
Both savage wizards were surrounded by their followers, the men drawing in close, spears at the ready, driving off those scattered by the deaths of the other mages who came desperately offering themselves, pleading for protection.
Kheda looked back to the struggle engulfing Dev and Dragonhide. The shelled beast had grown spines all over its back and curled into an impenetrable ball. The many-armed monster had turned into a thickly plated serpent with crushing coils writhing over and around its foe.
Kheda reached for the untipped arrows in his quiver. 'I'll try to scatter the men around Loal Hands. See if you can get him.'
He loosed arrow after arrow. The knot around Loal Hands slackened, men knocked off their feet by arrows to the belly and chest. At Kheda's side, Risala shot once, twice, finally hitting the mage with her third chisel-tipped arrow. It hit the mage in the face, his cheekbone exploding in a gout of blood. Passing clean through his skull, the vicious arrowhead bit deep into the minion behind him.
Loal Hands disappeared as his retinue clustered round.
'They're looking our way,' Risala said grimly.
'I can't see how we can get Catskin,' raged Kheda.
Risala gasped with fear. 'What's happened to Dev?'
Kheda looked to see the armoured serpent's coils collapsing inwards, unresisted. The spiny beast had vanished. 'There!' He saw Dev a few paces down the beach, half kneeling, half falling, covered in blood. The great serpent glowed, all the colours of the rainbow blurred around it.
Dev raised his hand, fingers twisted and broken. The armoured serpent writhed and its tail split into a fan of lesser snakes, each with gaping, questing fangs. Many-hued radiance crackled along the edges of every scale. Dev rose to his knees, both hands raised in denial, forearms clawed and bleeding. The light suffusing the snake monster grew brighter, merging into a blinding white. The beast began to split, scales separating, raw flesh beneath shining with a turmoil of magelight. It thrashed from side to side, scattering dust and bloody magic, carving a great gouge in the ground.
Kheda tore his gaze away. 'How many arrows do we have for Catskin?'
'About half of them.' Risala rubbed at her face.
'This is nearly over, one way or the other,' Kheda scowled. 'Let's use them.'
'On who?' Risala pointed down the slope to a knot of savages ripping aside the tangled vegetation as they started climbing towards the vantage point.
'Catskin,' Kheda said vehemently. He reached for the arrows, not caring which were tipped with Shek Kul's powder and which were not. Risala shot with the same abandon. Catskin was at the very edge of their range, hurrying down to the water, the heavy folds of his brindled cloak flapping. Arrows fell short, useless in the sand or wounding some frantic savage.
We're not going to manage this.
Then, startled, Catskin whirled round. He ran back up the beach, cloak flying out behind him. With a shot more instinct than calculation, Kheda let one of his final arrows fly. Risala's bowstring sang in his ear. Catskin fell, two broad-headed shafts hitting the same
thigh, severing muscle and sinew, splintering bone. The screaming mage collapsed, leg nigh on cut off, and died in a welter of unstaunchable bleeding.
'Kheda!' Risala cried out in alarm.
Kheda looked down to see determined savages more than halfway up the slope. On the far side of the broken ditch, Dev struggled to his feet, painfully, slowly, blood smeared across his bald head. The nimbus of white surrounding the frantically writhing serpent monster began to contract. The light within darkened; ruby, sapphire, emerald and amber darkened, the snake disappeared and the dragon-hide mage stood there, blood trickling down his legs, his own hands upraised with the jewel colours of his magic swirling around him.
The circle of white light shrank further. The jewel colours within hammered at the inexorable barrier. It made no difference. With blood-curdling shrieks several savages hurled themselves at Dev, spears raised. With a single gesture, Dev sent them tumbling backwards, seared with scarlet flame. The sphere of white light around the dragon-hide mage took fire, flashed like rainy-season lightning before hissing with steam and cracking for an instant like crazed glass. Dev's wizardry held and then with a blast that struck Kheda like a physical blow, the magic collapsed on itself. In the next instant, the burning radiance burst outward in a shower of many-hued light. Rags of blood-soaked dragon hide and gobbets of torn flesh scattered all across the beach. Shaking his head in a vain attempt to regain his hearing, Kheda dug the heels of his hands into his eyes to clear the blinding after-image from his sight.
'Where's Dev?' Risala searched the far side of the ditch for their wizard.
'I can't see any sign.' What Kheda did see made his blood run cold. 'That man, that's the mage with the sharks' teeth necklace.'
The final, disregarded mage had gathered a gang of savages who were tossing aside the piles of loot, digging out caskets, dodging in and out of the burning huts to claim choice coffers. With Sharkteeth gesturing, the small contingent formed into a line, other savages grabbing salvaged weapons and simple lengths of wood to join them.
'He's getting away,' gasped Risala.
Shouts from below drowned out her cry as the savages climbing the slope below them drew ever closer.
'Not if I can help it.' Kheda threw aside his bow and gripped his heavy jungle blade. 'Come on.'
The dusk was really gathering beneath the lilla trees now, the warm air dense beneath the leaves. Kheda hacked at the clinging logen vines and the burgeoning berry seedlings hampering his every stride. He could hear twigs snapping in a commotion that was Risala or pursuing savages drawing nearer. He sliced at the thick vegetation, tearing at leathery green leaves and frail new fronds with his free hand. The fiery slice of cuts to his fingers brought him to his senses and he pulled his dagger free of his belt. The braided cord grip soaked up the blood slick on his palm. Plunging on, his breath rasped in his throat. As the dew rose to meet the approaching night, the rich scent of the dark forest surrounded them.
Risala bumped into his back. 'Where are we going?'
'Sharkteeth looks to be bearing this way. If we can move fast enough, we can cut him off.' Kheda slashed at the underbrush with renewed determination as shouts and trampling feet behind told him their pursuers were getting closer.
With Risala treading on his heels, whimpering in her frantic breaths, Kheda ran as fast as he could, heart pounding, chest burning. Stumbling on a faint trail, he nearly fell, recovering himself in the nick of time. He ran on and heard noises ahead. Curt orders in an unknown tongue punctuated the sound of urgent hands beating back underbrush with sticks. A new cry rose from behind, in triumph and cruel anticipation, as the savages chasing them found the path. Bare feet pounded on the bare earth.
'They're going to catch us!'
Stifling Risala's panic with a brutal hand, his dagger's hilt crushing her lips, Kheda dragged her off the path. Throwing himself beneath a berry bush choked with striol vines, he rolled on top of Risala, stilling her struggles with his weight. Her eyes, white-rimmed, stared uncompre-hendingly into his as the savages who'd been pursuing them came howling down the path. Sharkteeth's men met this unexpected attack with brutal cries and vicious blows. The pursuers were ensnared in retaliation before they had time to realise what was happening.
Kheda slid his hand down to Risala's chin. Bloodied fingerprints showed dark on her skin. 'Any arrows?' he mouthed.
She twisted under him to pull her quiver out from beneath her back. Kheda gathered all the remaining shafts into a single bundle. 'Make for the Amigal,' he told her soundlessly.
Risala nodded, face frozen with fear. He left her crouching beneath the paltry shield of the bush, fumbling to draw her heavy jungle blade. Sheathing his own and crawling on hands and knees, Kheda headed towards the fiercest sound of fighting. The arrows he held caught themselves in the tangled ground plants. He sliced them away with his dagger. Sharp stubs bit at his knees and unexpected puddles of muck soaked his trousers. An invader, falling backwards through the bushes, fell over him, crashing to the ground, an attacker leaping on top of him. Kheda felt a spray of blood warm on his face as he sprang forward to dive beneath a straggling lilla sapling, unnoticed as the two wild men fought to the death.
Yells and abuse echoed around the trees. Kheda strained ears still ringing from the disaster that had befallen the wizards on the beach. He caught a note of command in a guttural shout and slowly rose to his feet, ready to attack any savage who might turn on him, alert for any hint of magelight. There was the wizard with the sharks' teeth necklaces, shouting furiously at the men laden with coffers of loot. Some had let caskets slip from their shoulders as they jostled and shoved in a panicked attempt to flee down the track.
In the same instant that Kheda took in the scene and realised Sharkteeth's unprotected back was towards him, one of the burdened savages saw this unexpected newcomer, raising a pointing hand, mouth opening to shout.
I've no idea if there's any of Shek Kul's powder on these arrows. I have to kill the invader's wizard some way or another. Skewering his kidneys should do it, regardless of his magic. If I die for it, so be it. If I live, all well and good. Let's worry about that later.
All these thoughts ran through Kheda's mind in the time it took the savage's hand to rise to shoulder height. Kheda threw himself forward, stabbing the bundle of arrows deep into the hollow of the shark-tooth mage's back just above his leather loincloth. Reaching round with his other hand, he reversed his grip and thrust his dagger into the base of the mage's throat, hilt deep, feeling the blade grate on bone. He pulled the man close, their bodies matched like lovers, the warmth of the wizard's back pressing the cold muddied cloth of his tunic to him. His nostrils filled with the savage's rank, animal scent. Kheda twisted and wrenched at the dagger. The mage's necklaces broke, sharks' teeth cascading in all directions, hard as little stones. Blood poured over Kheda's hands, down the mage's chest, soaking the moist ground, warm on Kheda's feet. The mage struggled feebly in his embrace, breath bubbling in his throat and his gasps spraying a fine mist of blood into the air.
The ferocious fight raged on, uncomprehending, all around. Those few who had seen the sudden attack stood transfixed with horror at the death of their leader. Kheda forced his way backwards through the undergrowth behind him, the limp mage a dead weight in his arms, a stinking burden as the man's bowels voided, but too valuable a shield to discard.
With cries of anguish, several savages hurled themselves towards him. Kheda threw the wizard's corpse at them and turned to dive through a tangled mess of striol creeper. The thorns pierced him from head to toe but he didn't slow for a moment. Throwing himself to the ground, he fled, wriggling beneath the impenetrable vegetation on belly and elbows, face in the leaf litter, expecting the agony of a spear in the back with every twist and turn.
None came. Kheda rolled on to his side and looked warily around at the blank, unhelpful leaves surrounding him. The sound of fighting subsided as the savages' cries turned to lamentation and audible indecision.
Ho
w long before they decide to beat the undergrowth for you, flushing you out like a hook-toothed hog and met with spears just the same? Not long, and they'll get Risala too, if she's still anywhere around. Time to run. But which way?
The ground rose sharply ahead of him. Kheda scrambled to his feet. Uphill was a start. They had come over the rise of the headland so the Amigal must lie somewhere beyond the top of the hill. He struggled up the slope as fast as he could, using hands and feet like a loal. Discovering he'd lost his heavy blade somehow, he skirted around berry thickets, shying away from the thorny tangles of striol.
Which at least means you're leaving no trail and moving more quietly.
Taken unawares by the crest of the rise, he slipped and fell down the far side, a tandra sapling breaking his fall and stabbing him painfully with snapped-off twigs. Panting, Kheda waited. The hue and cry that the savages were raising on the other side of the headland rose into the evening sky. Kheda's breath slowed and the hammering blood in his throat abated a little. The sound of pursuit was scattering, heading away from him, disintegrating into confusion. Kheda took a deep breath and the stench of death that coated him made him retch uncontrollably.
When he was finally done vomiting, he hauled himself upright on a handy lilla tree. Down below, he could see the untroubled sea fading imperceptibly into the distant blue dusk of the evening sky. Over to the west, the afterglow was fading on the horizon. He couldn't see the Amigal but now cold calculation replaced the trepidation of his flight. Calmly, he traced the lie of the land and worked out which clump of trees must be hiding the ship from view. Slowly, picking his path with care, he went down the slope towards it.
'Kheda!' Risala was on deck, jungle blade in her hands, ready to hack the hands off anyone trying to come aboard.
Unable to think what to say, Kheda dived into the water, ducking his head under the cool sea, rubbing his fouled hands over and around each other, scrubbing at his head and body. Rolling and twisting, he struggled out of his tunic, letting it float away, his trousers too. Broaching the surface with a gasp when he could stay submerged no longer, he found the salt freshness had driven away the stink hanging around him.
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