action for a few minutes at least. Pevan rubbed her aching ribs, managing her first proper breath in too long. There was no time to pause and recover properly, though.
She looked over at the Warding Hall. The doors had drifted back to almost closed, but she didn’t think anyone had snuck out since Rel went in. There could have been dozens of guards in there. The Warder was still hiding somewhere, too. How long had she wasted fighting Chaiya? Nothing to be done but to sprint at the Hall. She barely noticed barging the door open, gave no thought to the possibility of archers inside.
Rel spun between two guards as she entered, sending one of them staggering backwards and driving the butt of his improvised spear into the other's forehead. The latter guard collapsed as if his bones had all fallen out at once. Flipping the spear over, Rel stepped backwards and repeated the strike on the man now reeling back off one of the Hall's pillars.
That seemed to be it. The floor was strewn with bodies, several of them bloodied. A snapped-off half of a hunter's bow lay at her feet, no sign of its string. There was an arrow embedded in the door-frame. A stout lady perhaps two or three years Pevan's senior lay unconscious against the nearest pillar - the Warder, she was sure, since the other bodies were all male.
She met Rel's eyes. He lifted the spear, point-up, so it could catch the light; the wood was pale and pristine. He said, "I didn't stab any of them. Clear them out, I'll free Taslin."
For a moment she could only blink at him. Besides the Warder, there were... ten? Eleven? No, from the angle, the feet protruding from behind that pillar had to belong to at least two different people. Twelve or thirteen men. Rel had taken care of them in probably less than two seconds each. She gave her head a quick shake.
By the time her wits reassembled themselves, Rel was half-way to the dais at the head of the hall. The locals had rigged a special hook above the Stable Rods - maybe the Separatists had set it up for them - and Taslin's cuffed hands were hung from it. She dangled, knees slack, her usually-vibrant violet skirt washed-out and dulled. By her feet, the Stable Rods spun like cartwheels, a blur of gold.
For all that she had to be half-dead from her ordeal, Taslin managed to raise her head as Rel vaulted onto the dais. He caught himself short by grabbing the hook, leaving him just inches from the Gift-Giver. As he began to work her cuffs, Taslin pulled herself up further-
-and kissed him, full on the mouth. For a moment, he melted to her, with a fire Chag had never shown Pevan. For a moment, all Pevan could think was where did he learn to kiss like that?
Then the cuffs came undone, snapping the moment free of suspension. Rel's head jerked back, his face a white rictus. Taslin's arms dropped, reaching for him as he stumbled back, tottered of the dais. She slumped after him, flattening one of the rods as she fell.
Pevan shook off the chill sinking through her veins and caught Rel. "Are you alright?" She whispered, not sure if she was asking about the fall or the kiss.
"I... what..." Rel's face was pale, but his scowl could have been sculpted of obsidian. He pushed himself half-way to standing with a grunt. "Get her out of here. I'll follow."
Pevan glanced back down the hall. At least one of the guards was starting to stir. Taslin wasn't. Pevan hauled the Gift-Giver unceremoniously away from the dais and paused. How were they going to get away? Gift-Givers couldn't pass through a human-made Gate, and Taslin was in no state to-
Skin barely a shade away from grey, Taslin's arm lifted to point down the Hall. Faint mist rose from her finger. A Gateway opened in the floor, still less than thirty feet from the dais. Pevan almost dropped Taslin. The willpower to get a Gate open, here, in this state? Best hope she wasn't angry at Rel's rejection.
Either way, the Gate wouldn't stay open long. The Gift-Giver wasn't heavy, but, hung like a sodden quilt in Pevan's arms, was hard to drag. Like distant war-drums drifting into hearing, fatigue began to press at the inside of Pevan's skull as she reached the Gateway. Rather than try anything clever, she dropped through while still holding Taslin. Getting steady on the far side, back up above the waterfall, was clumsy, but she didn't mind too much if Taslin ended up with a foot in the river.
Rel came through after her, his feet-first jump artless and unsteady. Very deliberately, arms half-raised for balance, he walked a few paces up-stream and knelt at the bank. He cupped his hands, dipped them in the water and then splashed his face, hard. Then he ran wet fingers over his lips and teeth, scrubbing as if he was trying to scrape his treacherous face off. Pevan said nothing.
After a few minutes, with Rel still hunched and staring at the river, Pevan dragged Taslin clear and helped her to lie out flat on the ground. The Gift-Giver would need a trip to the Second Realm to fully restore herself, but her awareness did seem to be pulling back together. Even this close to the falls, there wasn't so much noise that they couldn't have talked, but the silence oppressed thought too heavily.
Some time later, Atla emerged from the woods, mumbling apologies for fleeing the fight until Pevan's look silenced him. Unwilling to explain, she stood and started towards the trees. "I'm going to find Chag." She almost managed not to stumble at the sudden stab of cold under her diaphragm. What if he was dead? To be alone with Rel and Taslin after today...
"It's no good." Taslin spoke, her voice stiffer and flatter than usual. A Wilder's voice. "The Separatists have recruited Soan. We are lost."
Despite herself, Pevan turned. Taslin had managed to sit up, her back rod-straight. The skirt and corset that had revealed so much of her figure were gone, replaced by a high-necked black gown threaded with purple down the sleeves. Rel regarded her as a statue might regard a small child that had strayed into the sanctity of its temple. Between the two, the air might as well have turned to solid ice.
Rel said, "We didn't go through all that just so you could give up as easily as Quilo."
"Had you realised this was a distraction, you might have been able to stop Ashtenzim."
A flicker of weakness ran across Rel's face and he turned back to the river. Taslin's tone had been viciously bitter. Pevan took a deep breath and set off into the wood. She could Gate to somewhere near where she'd dropped Chag and Horvin, but the walk would help with... something. Clearing her head, perhaps, though she felt as clear and as fragile as glass. Giving her time to think, except that her mind was empty.
At least it would keep her from having to look Rel in the eyes for a little while longer.
***
About the author
R. J. Davnall has been telling stories all his life, and thus probably shouldn’t be trusted to write his own bio. He holds a PhD in philosophy and teaches at Liverpool University, while living what his mother insists on calling a 'Bohemian lifestyle'. When not writing, he can usually be found playing piano, guitar or World of Warcraft.
R. J. Davnall on Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/eatthepen
On Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RJDavnall
Blog: https://itsthefuture.blogspot.com/
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