CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Kayla ran at full speed, adrenaline surging through her veins as she pounded through the forest with T’Kato and Sarali just ahead, as if they were a herd of deer chased by a mountain lion. Only it was not a mountain lion they fled, but a roaring dragon that snapped the tops off the trees and shot great gouts of flame into the sky overhead, though it was not the dragon they feared the most.
The greatest danger sat astride his back.
Kayla had no room for anger at the moment. The peace that came with the song of the woods was gone, and now fear laced her veins like icy fire.
T’Kato slowed. Kayla pulled even with him very quickly.
“We’ve got a choice. The path branches up ahead,” he yelled. “We can either run for the mountains and find a cave, if we’re lucky, or head to the sea.”
“That’s not much of a choice,” Kayla answered between gasps. She was really beginning to wish she had been more active in the past. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could run at full speed like this. “Which one is closer?”
“The mountains, but there’s not much cover, and the going is steep. I can’t promise we’ll make it, or that we’ll find a cave when we do.” He didn’t show any of the bitterness she would have felt in a similar situation. After all, they wouldn’t be in this mess if Kayla hadn’t played the flute. But in her heart of hearts she knew she’d had no choice, and felt no guilt. T’Kato seemed to understand that.
“I’d say mountains, but I’m not the leader here,” she said, and stumbled.
T’Kato caught her elbow and steadied her as they ran. “Yes, you are,” he mumbled, then pulled ahead to speak to his wife.
What did he mean by that?
C’Tan’s dragon had taken to pulling branches off the trees and hurling them like giant javelins at the fleeing threesome. Now their flight could no longer continue in a straight path, and they zigzagged through the forest, creating some distance from each other to make harder targets. Evidently it worked, because the dragon quit throwing the trees and backed off a bit. The snapping of the dragon’s wings faded in the distance, the beast screaming its fury at being pulled from the hunt.
Kayla staggered to a stop and bent over, nearly vomiting with her need for air. T’Kato was not in much better shape, though Sarali hardly broke a sweat, and her breathing had only accelerated slightly.
“How do you do it?” Kayla gasped at her.
Sarali grinned. “Lots o’ practice. ’Tis the nature of me people to be active.” The longer they were in the woods, the more cat-like Sarali became. Her movements were even more lithe and graceful than usual, but there was a dangerousness menace about her that made Kayla ill at ease. The woman was obviously comfortable here, as if she’d come home.
“Can’t rest long,” T’Kato said, breathing hard. “She’ll be back with reinforcements. Any suggestions?” His fear showed for the first time. That sent a chill through Kayla, and she straightened quickly. If T’Kato was afraid, there was real reason for fear. As if her racing heart wasn’t enough, her hands began to tremble at the realization.
“What about the river, Kato?” Sarali asked.
“Kayla wants to try the mountains,” T’Kato answered her with a warning glance, though Kayla caught it.
“But the lass doesn’t know all her options. Give her more, T’Kato, while we’ve got a bit o’ time to breathe.”
The tattooed man shook his head. “Sarali, there’s no point—”
“It’ll be savin’ her life, man! Of course there’s a point!” Sarali snarled and turned to Kayla.
“Look, girl, we won’t have much time here, so it might be best if I just show ye a thing or two. You’ll need to watch me for this, but don’t be afraid.”
Before Sarali finished speaking, her face had begun to change. The already narrow, feline-type face grew more pronounced, her eyes slitted, and she sprouted whiskers and hair. Sarali crouched, her body changing and thickening until what appeared to be a great blonde cat sat on its haunches before her.
It spoke, and Kayla jumped, wanting terribly to rub her eyes in disbelief.
“Now ye know the truth and me secret, Kayla. My people aren’t entirely human now, ye see. We are shapeshifters, much like the wolf people, but we’re more than that, too. We’re MerCats, masters of the waterways and lords of the sea.“ She grinned a feline grin, tail twitching back and forth, and it was all Kayla could do not to run screaming at that very moment. She knew of magic, of course, had just performed some, in fact, but . . . not like this. What this woman had done was supposed to be impossible. People could change their appearance by illusion, but only the white magi were able to change physically, and there hadn’t been any around for thousands of years.
And MerCats? Really? Kayla had heard of mermaids, but cats were supposed to hate the water. How could an entire race of people exist, whether underwater or not, and there not be a single legend or rumor about it?
“What she’s saying, Kayla,” T’Kato continued for her, “is that the waterways offer a very definite chance for survival.”
“My people would be willing to help, I’m sure of it. They’ve got no love for S’Kotos or C’Tan, and would be glad to put it to ’em now and again. We can swim the waterways and be safe. The dragons cannot travel with the MerCats. The fire in ‘em fades in the water.”
“And with my luck, I’ll probably drown,” Kayla said, fear getting the best of her and pushing her into sarcasm.
“Nay, lass. Not with me. I promise ye can breathe in the wet just like the cats themselves, if ye’ll let me help ye.“
It became apparent Kayla’s time was done when a fireball burst through the trees and exploded not ten feet away. Immediately the three of them were on their feet and running again.
“What’s it going to be, lass?” Sarali asked, loping beside her.
What’s it going to be? Kayla asked herself, unsure of the answer. The mountains lay closer. She could see them through the trees now, jagged and rocky, with switchbacks climbing the cliffs. But if they continued to the left and downhill, they would reach water and, according to Sarali, be safe. There was no promise in the mountains. They could just as easily strand themselves on a mountain top, sitting ducks for the dragons, as they could find a cave and hide in the depths of the hills. Kayla was more impressed by the odds of a water survival.
“Let’s try it. Take the water,” Kayla gasped, racing among the trees as fireballs continued to explode from the dragons above them, causing not only danger from the balls themselves, but also danger from the spreading fire and falling trees that were blasted in the passage.
Sarali loped to T’Kato. “She says water,” she called to her husband, loud enough for Kayla to hear.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Sari,” he said, but the feline only smiled, showing sharp teeth, and ran to the front to lead the way.
Kayla thought she could run no faster until Sarali took the lead, and then it seemed that if she held out her arms, she’d take off in flight. They tore down the mountainside and toward the water where they could hear pounding against the rocks far below. The ground raced beneath her. She wove to avoid fallen trees and tumbled rocks, then fireballs and more falling trees, and finally a wave of fire that slowly gained on them.
The dragons changed tactics then, sending wave after wave of flame to feed the wall that chased the fugitives so they no longer zigzagged their path, but ran a straight course toward the water Kayla could now smell. They had just to stay ahead of the raging wall of flame.
They came to a dead stop as they entered an open meadow, with a hovering figure waiting for them in its midst.
They were trapped.
Kayla’s heart sank, and her stomach rose as the fire crept closer, the heat pressing in on them.
C’Tan’s humorless smile slashed her face. Those eyes were cold—colder than the frosty wind that blew from the eastern mountains, colder than anything Kayla had known. They froze her heart and stilled her soul as
she stared into them and knew there was no way to escape.
“Give it up now, Kayla, and I may let you live,” C’Tan said, her voice sickeningly sweet.
“Like you let Joyson live?” Kayla snapped before thinking.
“The boy has suffered no irreparable harm. He’ll live, Kayla. You, I am not so sure. Give me the flute, and I’ll consider it,” she said, her hand outstretched.
For a brief moment Kayla was tempted to give in, to just hand it over and escape this mess, but . ..
She couldn’t.
It was wrong, and she knew it. Not only would she then be responsible for handing over one of the keystones to The Destroyer, but she would be shamed, and her family with her. They would lose their place in society forever. She could live with that for herself, but not for them. Not for Mother, and she could not live without Brant—so she responded in the only way she truly could.
She answered with her heart. “No,” was all she said, but it was enough to harden C’Tan’s features.
“Give me the flute, Kayla,” C’Tan demanded again, her voice not so full of sweetness this time.
“And I said no.” Kayla held the flute close to her chest.
“Give me the flute!” C’Tan yelled.
Kayla was shaken. C’Tan’s wrath was terrifying. Red light flickered around her hair, almost like lightning. In that moment she no longer looked human, the beautiful image flickering to show a scarred monster behind it. Kayla balled her fists to keep her hands from shaking, but still she refused. She crossed her arms over her chest, chin jutting in her stubborn posture. She shook her head.
“I will never give you the flute, C’Tan. I am its guardian, and I will defend it with all the strength of my body and every breath I take. It shall not be yours, even if I have to destroy it to keep it from you. Now move and let us pass, and I may let you live!” she threatened, not really sure if she could live up to that reckless promise, but determined to try.
C’Tan screamed in rage. Her dragon reared back and lunged, a huge tongue of flame preceding him.
“Run for the river!” T’Kato yelled as he shoved Kayla aside and ran in the opposite direction.
They were split by the flame and hidden by it at the same time. Kayla dove beneath the reaching dragon and ran with everything she had. She had no idea what she ran toward or where she was going; she only followed her heart and senses, running blindly through the unknown forest.
The trees were speaking to her again. “Left, Kayla, left. Run to the river . . .” The leaves rustled louder.
The roar of dragon wings sounded as if they snapped directly above. She dared a quick glance over her shoulder and wished she had not. C’Tan was bearing down on her, dodging between the trees to follow her straight through the woods, barreling through the small saplings that got in her way so they snapped behind her, moaning in the pain of death. The forest groaned around her, and it was no wonder. The fire still burned there, still pursuing Kayla as relentlessly as did C’Tan. Her only safety lay in the water. She had to find the river, but where was it? She didn’t know these lands, and now she ran alone.
“Follow the trail . . . we’ll light the way . . . follow the trail . . .”
Of a sudden, the moss that grew on the trees began to fluoresce, but in an obvious pattern that led in a straight line just to Kayla’s left—a line that couldn’t be correct. It led upward, not down. Water ran down. The river had to be down, not up!
“That can’t be right!” she called to the trees, but they continued to pulse their faint silvery-green glow, leading her up the hill. Kayla didn’t know what else to do, so she followed the trees, her breath increasing with the extra effort of fighting against gravity, and her pace slowed.
Just enough for C’Tan to catch up.
Kayla heard the dragon before she felt it, but not soon enough. She leaped forward, intending to hit the dirt and roll, but only succeeded in coming up underneath the great beast and impaling herself on one of the outstretched claws. The talon penetrated her right shoulder just below the collarbone, and Kayla felt it snap, the muscles beneath tearing and shredding on the razor-sharp claw. She couldn’t help herself. She screamed.
The agony was exquisite as the dragon grasped her other shoulder and lifted her high above the trees. It bellowed triumphantly to the other dragons. The wing of beasts roared an answer and made a beeline toward C’Tan.
The dragons formed up around her, a bubble of black curves and wings in every direction. It would have been a beautiful sight if she were not nauseated by the pain and height. So close! But not close enough.
She had tried. What more could they ask of her? She’d been handed guardianship of this instrument. She hadn’t asked for it, and she’d received no training. How was she to know what she could and could not do? And now, so much destroyed. She wished C’Tan would drop her to her death and end the agony of body and soul. The failure was almost more painful than the injury to her shoulder.
Kayla reached her hands up to grasp the dragon’s claws as it climbed higher, angling away from the forest and over the water. T’Kato and Sarali leaped from the cliff face and into the sea just below her. One of the beasts broke formation and dove after them, but they didn’t resurface.
Two more minutes and she would have been with them, would have been safe. Now here she was, pinned and captured, flying above the water and heading who knew where. Kayla wanted to give in to the darkness that threatened to overwhelm her, but something within her fought and could not—something inside buzzed and throbbed with power and the want and need to be free.
Something musical.
Suddenly, just like before, the fear was gone, the pain left, and Kayla was filled with the music of power, the song of the flute. She reached across her body to grasp the instrument she had tucked inside her tunic when she ran. It was still there, but how was she to play it with an injured arm? And what good would it do if she could? If C’Tan dropped her, she would fall hundreds of feet to her death on the rocks that lined the shoreline, or drown in the depths of the sea, unless . . .
Unless she could somehow get near her friends and fall there. Hadn’t Sarali said she could enable Kayla to breath beneath water? Hadn’t Sarali said her people would care for her? It was a slim hope, but it was more than she’d had an instant earlier.
Kayla tried to pull the flute to her lips, but the dragon’s legs were in the way, and her right arm was practically useless with the damage done to it. She may have been momentarily free of pain, but that did nothing to restore the torn and damaged muscle, nor repair the broken bone. She tried again to raise the flute, to bring even one note from its length, to no avail. She sobbed with frustration.
Sarali and T’Kato finally resurfaced and treaded water, watching as C’Tan banked closer to the surface, probably to mock them in their defeat. Their faces were filled with horror and fear. Kayla was grateful they cared—whether for herself or the flute, it didn’t matter. That one thing empowered her to try once more.
She raised the flute to her lips, took in a breath—
—and lost it with the wind.
The dragon hit some turbulance, causing him to spin and rock back and forth like a boat on storm-tossed waters. Kayla tried to grab hold of the dragon’s leg with her good arm, and in that instant, a large gust caught them and tore the flute from her grasp.
“No!” she screamed as it tumbled toward the waters below. Instinct claimed her then. She reached her hand for the flute, even though her mind knew it was useless, grasping for it with all the strength of her will and being, and nearly fainted as a result.
The flute halted its fall in mid-air like a glowing blue hummingbird. It was beautiful. She reached for the flute, but C’Tan laughed.
“It’s mine now, fool,” she taunted.
The blonde witch leaned over the side of the dragon and reached for the flute, just as Kayla had.
Slowly it ascended toward the dragon, and Kayla’s heart fell. Surely C’Tan would claim the
flute from her now. She had failed, miserably failed. Still, she held her hand out, hoping against hope that the flute would hear her heart and come to her.
The flute continued to rise inch by agonizing inch. Kayla’s arm began to tremble with the effort.
The flute tickled her fingertips, just out of reach, then paused, and to Kayla’s great astonishment, moved itself not to C’Tan’s outstretched hand, but her own.
C’Tan shrieked in frustration and leaned farther over the side of her mount, trying to grab Kayla, but she was safely beyond C’Tan’s reach. Well, not safe, she thought as the waves below her seemed to rise and fall an eternity away, but she was not helpless. She had the flute. It had chosen her. She raised it to her lips and this time, instead of trying to play it, she merely hummed into the mouthpiece, a perfect middle-range note.
The flute began to vibrate and pulse, sound and energy expanding from Kayla’s body to touch the dragon’s legs. It sparked a shocking wave of blue, and the huge dragon bellowed its pain.
“Hold on to her, you beast!” C’Tan shouted.
Kayla was stunned when the dragon spoke. “I can’t, mistress. It pains me,” he said in a deep bass.
“Dragon, if you let her go—” C’Tan began to threaten, but in the end it did not matter. The flute would not be held. Nor would it allow Kayla to be held against her will. The great blue arcs of electricity stunned the black dragon enough that he loosened his hold on Kayla as he lost consciousness.
“No!” C’Tan wailed.
“Yes!” Kayla hollered in glee as the dragon released her, and she fell toward the waters below.
The pain pounded at her then, the moment just before she hit the water with enough force to knock the wind from her— enough force to knock the flute from her grasp—though it did not.
Kayla clung to the flute with a death grip, and even as she floated on the top of the water, the salt stinging her wounds, even as she faded toward unconsciousness, her hold on the flute was as cement.
No one would take it from her.
No one.
The Sapphire Flute: Book 1 of The Wolfchild Saga Page 31