“Snowfang,” Tatigan explained. He wiped blood from a deep cut on his forehead. His hands shook—from cold, pain, or fatigue, Ashok couldn’t guess. They were all weary to the point of breaking. “They’re in the family of winter wolves, but they’re colder bastards than their cousins. While the others attack, they wait until the prey’s soft and then come in to strike.” He cursed when he saw the Martucks standing nearby, leaning on each other for support. “Damn it—forgive me, Leesal. Your boy—”
“He might still be alive,” Vlahna said as she rode back to them. Wolf blood streaked her legs and arm where she held her chain. “I saw the wolves. They haven’t left the trail yet to go to their dens, but it’s clear that’s where they’re headed. It’s too dangerous to have at the boy on the trail. They’ll wait until they’re safe.”
“Give me your horse,” Mareyn said, grabbing Vlahna’s reins.
Vlahna wrenched them out of her grip. “They’ll tear you to pieces, Mareyn. You won’t take on a snowfang alone.” She raised her leg when Mareyn reached for the reins again. “I’ll plant you in the ground, human, no matter how short we are on blades, if you paw at me again.”
“So send more warriors,” the elder Martuck cried. “If there’s a chance he’s still alive, we have to try.”
“How thin would you have us stretch ourselves?” Vlahna said. “We’ve lost nearly half our strength in this last push over the mountains. A lot of good men and women are gone.”
Ashok heard the grief in her voice. “Tuva?” he said.
Vlahna glanced at him and shook her head once. “Still with the caravan. He won’t make it to Rashemen.”
“Give Mareyn a horse,” Ashok said. “I’ll go with her to get the boy back.”
Vlahna laughed harshly. “You and your stallion we can spare least of all, Ashok. If the witch and the bard fail, you’ll let that thing unleash a scream that will bring the mountain down on our heads. It’s the only way to buy us a chance against the brigands.”
“They won’t fail.”
“I won’t risk it.”
“I’ve seen the nightmare’s speed,” Cree said. “We’ll hold them until Ashok gets back.” He glanced down the trail. “But if you’re going, go now, by the gods. There’s not much time.”
Ashok held Vlahna’s gaze. She stared him down, until finally, she nodded reluctantly.
“Go,” she said. “But get back here soon.”
Ashok ran to the nightmare while Vlahna dismounted to give Mareyn her horse.
He swung his leg over the stallion and pulled himself up. He was aware of every cut to his flesh, every wolf bite. The lingering cold from their attacks seeped into his bones, but while he rode the nightmare, it wouldn’t slow him down.
“Stay far enough behind me so the horse won’t bolt when we attack,” Ashok told Mareyn. “When I raise my fist, be ready for the scream. Protect yourself, understand?”
“Just ride,” Mareyn said grimly. “I’ll be behind you.”
Ashok didn’t need to spur the nightmare on. He leaned forward and the stallion thundered up the trail. Fire spread from his fetlocks and tail, and the ice on the hard ground turned to water and mud beneath his hooves.
Ilvani stood in the shadow of a rocky outcropping twenty feet above her. It was snowing again, or perhaps it had never really stopped. She was so used to it by now that she hardly noticed the sting of cold on her face.
What she couldn’t ignore was the hemmed-in feeling she had out here. In front of her lay the brigands. Behind her, she heard Rashemi whispers. Already she could feel the spirits of the land calling to her and pulling at her. Above her, an owl circled in the gray sky. It watched her as she waited for Daruk to finish his survey of the area.
The bard stood several feet away, gauging the distance between them and the brigands approaching on horseback. They would be here in minutes. She already felt the hoofbeats shaking the ground. Above her, the owl uttered a sharp warning cry and flew away. Ilvani almost asked Daruk if he’d heard the call, but she knew he hadn’t.
The bard walked over to her and rubbed his hands together for warmth before he drew his wand. “This is the best place for the show,” he told her. “Are you up to it?”
“We’ll ask,” Ilvani said. “It’s up to the mountains to answer.”
“Well, this should be interesting, then,” Daruk said.
Ilvani nodded and cast a spell. She levitated up the side of the outcropping until she reached the lip. Testing it with her weight, she found it solid enough and stepped down. Her boots slid an inch on the slick surface, but she righted herself and surveyed the pass from the height.
She saw now what Daruk had been studying so intently. Two narrow crevasses half-filled with snow crisscrossed each other and cut the trade route. Vlahna had tested them when the caravan came through and found one was solid enough for the wagons to pass over, but the other was a death trap—loose snow fell out from under a traveler’s foot and would send him or her plunging into a deep grave. The gap was not large, but they’d had to put down planks for the wagons to cross in safety.
Ilvani reached into her bag and pulled out a clear glass sphere with a shock of red silk trapped inside it. Concentrating, Ilvani cast a spell that filled the air with an icy fog. It spiraled down from her perch and slinked across the ground until it covered every part of the narrow pass below her. Through the fog, Daruk strode to meet the riders. Ilvani muttered another spell and pointed at the bard.
The riders came barreling up the pass a few breaths later but pulled up short when they saw the bard step into their midst. At their head, Thorm held up a hand, and the warriors reached for their crossbows. None of them had seen Ilvani yet.
I am invisible, just like the owls. The thought drifted through Ilvani’s mind. She was a floating spirit, removed and cold. With her other hand, she reached into her pouch and closed her fingers around the stone Ashok had given her from the Tuigan grave. The sharp edges pressed into her flesh, reminding her that she was here. She was real.
“Well met, fellow travelers,” Daruk greeted them as if they were old friends. He ignored the crossbows trained upon him. “I’m here to inform you that I’ve placed a toll on this part of the Golden Way. All who wish to pass must pay me, for I am the road keeper.”
Chuckles and scoffs came from the riders. They didn’t know whether to be irritated or amused by the human. Ilvani noticed that the bard never flinched. He was deep in the part he’d chosen to play.
A human like that was dangerous. He’d chosen parts for them all, but whatever he was playing at, the bard was most interested in Ashok. Daruk had infected him with Shar’s power. She had smelledit on Ashok’s skin. Why had he done it? Was it only to see how Ashok reacted?
She had no time to discover his motives. She must protect him now. Protecting him meant protecting the caravan. Arms at her sides, she curled her fingers into her palms and whispered a few words. Slowly, by inches, the mist rose around Daruk’s legs.
“I know some of you are probably concerned that the fee will be too much for your company to bear,” the bard said. “Fear not. I’m a reasonable man.”
Ilvani heard the magic in his voice. To her it was only a soft, musical hum, but it had a hypnotic quality that kept the riders listening when they should have been firing. The brigands focused on the bard’s words and didn’t notice the change in the weather.
He’s telling you, but you can’t hear him, Ilvani thought. She gazed down at Thorm. So loud he’s telling you—don’t watch your feet. Be ready to ride, to run this fool into the ground, and take back what’s yours. Take back your goods, and take from all the others.
Don’t watch your feet.
“So, who will be the first to pay?” Daruk said. His voice was deceptively light. Ilvani heard the threat beneath the words.
Thorm glanced at the men with the crossbows. “Kill him,” he said.
Time slowed as Ilvani heard the twang of the crossbow strings releasing their bolts. The deadly
shots hit Daruk in the chest and neck and passed harmlessly through his flesh as if it were smoke.
“Well, look at that,” the bard said. He touched his chest and feigned a look of awe. “A miracle, that’s what this is.” He winked at the brigands, and the illusion of him disappeared.
“A godsdamned miracle.”
Now his voice came from farther up the pass. He smiled, raised his wand, and drove it into the ground.
A thunderous roar shook the air, traveled through rock and ice, and knocked three of the brigands from their rearing horses. Ilvani put her free hand against the rock wall behind her and felt the pulse through the stone. With her other hand, she clutched her sphere and called on magic to strengthen Daruk’s spell.
“Bring it down on their heads,” she whispered, lacing the words with arcane power. “Bring the mountain down on them. Bury them under the ice.”
The confused riders instinctively drew together. Thorm pointed to Daruk and yelled something unintelligible. It set the brigands in motion. They charged blindly through the mist.
Thorm’s was among the first of the horses to hit the disguised crevasse. For one breath, they were a charging wall of death, and the next they were simply gone, plunging through the mist to their doom. The riders nearest him immediately saw the trick and yanked desperately on their reins, but for several of them it was just too late. They, too, fell and died.
The others retreated, which gave Daruk time to get off the path and away from the trembling mountain. Rocks started to fall around Ilvani. She slid her sphere back into her bag and turned to watch the snow slide down the mountain toward her.
The white wall rushed toward her amid the rumbling echoes of Daruk’s magic and her own amplification spell. For a breath, Ilvani felt as the other shadar-kai did, staring into the face of death with such fascination that it made her heart pound. The avalanche would bury her if she didn’t move—she would be gone in an instant.
Shouts echoed from the pass below her. The riders had seen her, but they were far more interested in the avalanche. A few of them spurred their horses forward and tried to jump the crevasse. Some made it, but many didn’t.
Ilvani raised her arms and laughed aloud. The sound was lost in the thundering roar. She felt so alive. The white wall filled her vision, and the cold caressed her face.
Regretfully, Ilvani teleported away. Her body became insubstantial, and the cold, damp caress was gone.
When she reappeared next to Daruk, Ilvani saw the brigands were gone, and a fresh layer of powdery snow covered the ground. The scene was peaceful and still. Overhead, the owl had returned and circled the pass, but it made no sound.
“Finely played, witch,” Daruk said. “We work well together, yes?”
“Yes. This is the last time we will,” Ilvani said.
“Is that a prophecy?”
She looked up at him. He was taller than she was, but that wasn’t surprising. He didn’t try to use his height to intimidate her but merely stood watching her with curiosity.
“You’ll try to take him,” Ilvani said. “You’ve already begun the game. But you were right when you said I’d be a player. I won’t let you have him.”
He smiled benignly. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, witch, but it sounds like madness to me.”
“So it is,” Ilvani said. She added, almost to herself. “But that doesn’t mean there isn’t truth in it.”
“What if he decides to come of his own free will?” Daruk said. “What will you do then?”
Then I’ll have to kill you, Ilvani thought. She didn’t voice her decision aloud but trusted Daruk could read her black eyes well enough.
Ashok heard the distant thunderclap and felt the ground shake beneath him. Power from arcane and natural sources filled the air. He knew then that Ilvani and Daruk had been successful in springing their trap.
Ahead of him, he followed the snowfang tracks and those of the smaller winter wolves. He drew his chain, braced himself as the nightmare jumped a narrow crevasse, and held on when the beast veered off the trail to follow the wolf scent.
Ashok heard Mareyn behind him some distance on Vlahna’s horse. She stayed safely back from the nightmare’s fire but kept pace with him. He glanced back at her once and saw her gaze fixed on the trail.
Suddenly, the tracks stopped. Ashok had no time to react before a blast of ice and wind swelled up around him. It enveloped the nightmare and for a breath extinguished his flame. They were a black speck in a sea of white. Blinded, Ashok swung out at random with his chain. He breathed in the frigid air and tasted wolf scent.
The nightmare screamed. The sound echoed off the rock walls around them and made Ashok throw his hands up to cover his ears. In response, the icy wind abated, but the nightmare’s flame was a dull blue, diminished.
When his vision cleared, Ashok saw the icy vortex move toward Mareyn. The warrior was ready for it. She dismounted and let her horse ride away to safety. Drawing her blade, she dodged out of the path of the ministorm as Ashok jumped off the nightmare’s back and came up on its other side with his chain. The vortex coalesced into the form of the snowfang.
Ashok readied his chain, but he kept an eye on the rocks and crevices around them. The snowfang had used the storm to cover the tracks of the other two wolves. Now they hid somewhere with the boy, waiting to strike.
Up close, the snowfang was immense. Thick strands of ice-matted fur hung off its body. It growled at Mareyn but kept one eye on Ashok and his chain. It tried to appraise both threats, but Ashok wasn’t about to give the creature the chance to take their measure.
Ashok attacked with his chain. The spiked end struck the ground harmlessly as the wolf dodged the strike. Ashok was surprised at its speed. Since it had such a bulky body, he’d expected the wolf to have no grace.
Mareyn took advantage of the wolf’s distraction to wade in with her sword. Ashok saw her expression change from fierce concentration to confusion and pain as she stabbed at the thing’s chest. Her blade moved with agonizing slowness. She fumbled the strike and barely grazed the skin of the beast.
Ashok ran forward to aid her and encountered a wall of cold so intense that it stole his breath. His fingers went numb; he barely had the presence of mind to keep a grip on his weapon. This creature’s aura was worse than any three of the winter wolves put together. At close range, the snowfang outmatched them.
“Get away from it!” Ashok cried. He staggered back and automatically looked for the nightmare’s heat. The stallion stood several feet away. He had not fully regained his fire.
Ashok felt dread well up inside him for the first time since the battle with the wolves had begun. If the nightmare didn’t join the battle, they were dead. Either the snowfang would wear them down with cold, or the other two wolves would spring on them when they least expected it.
Mareyn kept her sword in front of her and backed away from the snowfang, but the creature came after her, its claws raking deep gouges in her breastplate. Off balance under the weight of the attack, Mareyn collapsed. Her sword was her savior. She slashed wildly, protecting her body, and instead of biting her, the wolf retreated.
She didn’t escape unscathed. The wolf tore a long gash in her side. Blood ran down her leg and pooled in the snow. She cupped the wound with her left hand, but Ashok doubted it would be enough to stop the bleeding.
Ashok planted his feet and struck out from a distance with his chain. The snowfang had grace, but it couldn’t dodge the speed of his attacks. Keeping the chain always moving in deadly arcs, Ashok drew the monster’s attention away from Mareyn to give the warrior time to recover.
The wolf hissed a breath that carried more ice and snow. Ashok went down in a crouch and whipped his cloak in front of his face to protect his eyes from the attack. The numbing cold enveloped him again, and when Ashok recovered enough to bring his weapon up, he misjudged the strike and slashed his own cheek with his weapon. Warm blood dribbled down his face and returned some of the feeling to
his deadened skin.
Inspired—or desperate—Ashok wound his chain around his arm as Vlahna had done. He had no hard leather to protect him, so the spikes pierced his flesh. The action went against Uwan’s edict that the shadar-kai must not weaken themselves by marking their own flesh, but Ashok had no choice. There was a greater threat here than the fear that he might diminish himself. He had to be able to fight through the cold, or he, Mareyn, and Les would die.
In the wake of its icy breath, the snowfang lunged at him. Ashok knew he couldn’t get any colder, so he stretched out his arms, absorbed the wolf’s weight, and let it drive him into the snow. He hugged the creature close to drive the spikes into its flesh. The wolf howled and snapped at him. It sank its teeth into his other forearm and shook vigorously. Ashok heard his armor tear. The wolf crushed the bone scales and punctured hard muscle.
Burning pain shot up Ashok’s arm, restoring life to him even as the draining blood threatened to take it back. The snowfang had no idea that it helped Ashok by inflicting these wounds. He hugged the monster tighter and felt a rib crack as the wolf tried to tear his arm off. Neither would let go of their prizes.
Distantly, Ashok heard a deep-throated shout. He thought at first it was the wolves, but then he realized it was a human voice. The voice said something in a language Ashok didn’t recognize. A breath later, he saw Mareyn in his periphery, half running, half stumbling toward the wolf. The warrior jumped and landed on the snowfang’s back. She hacked with her sword at the creature’s flesh, finally penetrating its frozen hide.
The wolf jerked its head up and around, biting at the warrior. She gripped its flanks with her legs as if she rode a horse and kept striking, ignoring the cold that had turned her skin a wasted blue color.
A deep slash to its neck sent the snowfang into a frenzy. It broke Ashok’s hold and rolled away in the snow. The force of its retreat threw Mareyn off its back, and Ashok felt his own rib snap as the beast rolled over him and picked itself up. Gasping, he came up to his knees and held his arm up in front of him, showing the wolf the blood-covered spikes.
Unbroken Chain: The Darker Road Page 22