Emergence (Book 2)
Page 15
Sully rode past them, navigating to the front of the line to converse with Bolin and Garek. Lightning streaked across the sky and Ciara jumped, clutching at the edge of the narrow bench as the cart bounced through a rut. Nialyne flicked the reins and gave the mares an encouraging cluck, urging them forward as the sky lit up again, this time accompanied by the deep rumble of thunder. Ciara peered out from under her hood, trying to get a glimpse of the men ahead of them. She could barely make out Sandeen, his speckled coat giving him a ghostly appearance.
The wind picked up with a sudden gust, and Ciara shivered. She would have passed off the eerie wail as nothing more than the storm playing tricks on her ears, especially since the horses seemed not to be bothered by it, if not for the fact her earth magic swarmed suddenly around her. Nialyne gave her a sharp look because on the heels of that, Andrakaos rumbled beneath the elder's wards.
"Ciara?"
"I don't know." Even rubbing shoulders with Nialyne, Ciara had to raise her voice to be heard. "I don't think this storm is natural."
And that thought sent another shiver through her because that could only mean Donovan had found them. Her stomach twisted, and she fought to calm her breathing. Nialyne's fingers closed on her arm, but another lurch of the cart sent her hand back to the reins.
An explosion of light and sound threw everything into chaos. Several horses screamed in fear, and the mares reared. Nialyne cried out as they leapt forward, the reins tearing from her grasp. She lunged forward to reclaim them before they were lost altogether, and Ciara grabbed the elder's the arm to keep her from tumbling under their pounding hooves. Then they veered sharply, the cart pitching at a steep angle. Ciara got a glimpse of a huge tree lying across the road before she lost contact with the seat.
She flailed her limbs, trying to keep her legs beneath her as she catapulted through the air. She would have had more success on dry ground. As soon as her boots made contact with the rain-slick grass, her feet whipped out from under her, and she tumbled head over heels down a steep hill. She thrust her hands out to the sides, grabbing at anything to stop her momentum. But all she found were rocks and branches that tore at her palms. Then her elbow hooked around something sturdy enough to put an abrupt stop to her descent, and Ciara cried out, her shoulder wrenching painfully.
For a long time she just hung there, sucking in great gasps of wet air. The rain pelted her without mercy, and even when she craned her head back as far as she dared she couldn't make out the road above her. Lightning shredded the night, momentarily blinding her, and the slam of thunder that followed vibrated the ground beneath her. Then the wind seemed to pause and she thought she heard someone call her name. She opened her mouth to answer, and choked on rain instead. They'd never see her, not without a torch or some kind of light.
Ciara sucked in a ragged breath and called up a bit of her earth magic. She spun it into a soft, glowing ball of witch light, and let it hover in the air above her.
"Ciara? Stay there."
Like she could go anywhere if she wanted to. She had no clue how far she'd slide if she unhooked her arm, and she didn't care to find out the hard way.
An avalanche of mud and rocks cascaded past her, followed in short order by Berk, sliding down next to her in a much more controlled fashion than she had managed. He gave the witch light a quick glance.
"Put that thing out," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Marauders."
Ciara doused the witch light. "Where?"
"They were trailing behind." He kept his voice low, his mouth pressed to Ciara's ear. "That's why Sully went ahead to warn the Commander."
"Where is everyone else?"
"Hopefully taking cover. I don't know how many there were, but it'd be best to just avoid them. We can't go back up, we'll risk running into them. Are you hurt?"
"I don't think so, but I'm stuck."
He slipped his arm around her waist and turned to look below them. "Can't see a bloody thing."
Another flash of lightning punctuated his sentence, the thunder rolling so closely over the top of it Ciara couldn't tell which came first.
"Looks like we're almost to the bottom." Berk shifted, not loosening his grip on her waist. He slid his other hand up, feeling along her arm. "Can you straighten it?"
"I'm afraid to let go."
"I won't let you fall. I promise. It levels off right belo--"
He tensed, and jerked his head up toward the road. Ciara strained her ears but couldn't hear anything over the wind and the driving rain. Then she thought she heard a shout, followed by another closer by.
"We can't stay here. We have to go. Now."
Berk maneuvered around so that he straddled her, digging his boot heels in to brace himself as he eased her arm straight, sliding her elbow around the root she'd caught on her mad tumble. Ciara bit her lip to keep from crying out as he rolled her onto her back so they were facing one another. She gasped and clutched at his tabard when she felt herself start to slide, scrambling to find purchase with her feet. Berk grabbed her around the waist, and shifted her uphill so she could sit up. He held her there, one arm still around her waist, the other braced against a tree.
Another prolonged flash seemed to dance above them for longer than natural, bathing Berk's face in light. His eyes were trained on the road above with an intensity Ciara could feel quivering through his muscles. His hair lay plastered to his head, the rain running in rivulets down the hard line of his jaw.
"Damn."
"Berk?"
The light faded; the deep growl of thunder drowned out what he said next but Ciara felt him shift and begin to back up. He leaned toward her, putting his mouth close to her ear. "We'll just take it slow. Don't try to stand, just scoot along with me. All right? Hold onto me and I'll keep you from sliding."
Berk started moving, ducking his head to look behind him and testing each foothold for stability before putting his weight on it. Every now and again he'd pause and cant his head to the side as though trying to hear above the storm. Ciara couldn't see his expression, but she could feel the tension radiating from him.
Their descent seemed torturously slow. The wind fought them, and the rain bombarded them even harder than before. A steady runoff cascaded around them, making it feel as though they were caught in a river's current.
"Almost there," he said. "Goddess's blood."
Berk stood, and jerked Ciara to her feet without warning. They scrambled down the rest of the embankment, and Berk headed for the trees, his fingers twined with Ciara's. She let out a startled yelp as her head jerked suddenly backwards, someone's fingers tangled in her hair. She let go of Berk to reach behind her as an arm slipped around her throat. Berk spun, his sword glinting in his hand.
"Look out!" Ciara yelled, a flash of lightning illuminating a figure coming up behind him.
Berk dropped to a crouch, and the short sword whistled through the air above him. He twisted as he stood, dragging his sword across the man's mid-section. The blow had little behind it and barely scored the heavy leather armor, but Berk let his momentum carry him around. He brought his other hand up, his dagger driving deep into the side of the marauder's neck. The man let out a gurgled cry and dropped to the ground.
Ciara clawed at the arm holding her. She kicked back, then sucked in a reflexive breath as a strong hand clamped a damp cloth over her nose and mouth. She thought she recognized the scent right before her head lolled to the side despite her best efforts to keep it upright, and even the drenching rain didn't matter any more.
***
Bolin whipped around in time to see the cart bounce back onto the road, minus some of its contents, and with only one occupant. It clattered past them, with Nialyne hauling back on the reins in an attempt to get the panic-stricken horses to stop. Garek's mount skipped out of the way, narrowly avoiding a collision, and instead slammed into Sandeen. The stallion flattened his ears and reared back to strike. Bolin spun him hard, catching sight of at least two riderless horses, and one man on his fe
et attempting to calm a third. By the time he got Sandeen turned, Sully had caught up to the cart. Garek's lieutenant leaned from the side of his horse, snagged the bridle of the nearest mare and sat deep in the saddle, guiding the cart to a stuttering halt.
Another streak of lightning fragmented the scene, and one of the mares hopped forward, but Sully still had hold, preventing them from taking off again. Sandeen lurched toward the cart at Bolin's light touch.
"Where's Ciara?" He had to yell to be heard over the wind's wailing and the incessant thunder.
Nialyne's knuckles were white around the reins, and her arms shook but her voice sounded amazingly calm. "She fell out when we went off the road."
"Berk's likely got her," Sully offered.
"Are you all right?" Bolin asked Nialyne.
"I think so."
Garek had dismounted. He looked up from where he crouched next to the cart. "Axel's twisted."
Unholy mothers. "Can we limp it off the road?"
Garek shrugged as he stood. "We'll have to off-load first, or like as not it'll snap with the first rut it hits."
"See what you can do. I'm going--" Bolin broke off. An enormous silence replaced the cacophony of the storm. "Goddess's blood, not now."
Garek's brow furrowed. "What is it?"
Bolin didn't answer. He turned, scanning the darkness, flexing the fingers of his left hand. He swung out of the saddle and stepped to the center of the road where a shadowy figure began to take shape. It wavered before solidifying into a grotesque mockery of a man with hunched shoulders and corded muscles rippling across bare limbs. It stood easily twice as tall as Garek. Red flame danced around the edges of its black and soulless eyes as they swept over the men. When they landed on Bolin the creature pulled back its cracked lips to reveal elongated fangs. It lifted a hand to point at him, an errant flash of lightning reflecting off wickedly sharp claws.
"Unholies be damned," Garek said, at his right elbow.
Bolin didn't look at him. "You can't help with this. Keep the men and the horses out of the way."
"General's pardon," Sully said, from his left. "They're well out of the way."
Garek sniffed and rotated his head, flexing his shoulders back. He had his sword in one hand, a hand axe in the other. "That is one big hunk of a swag-bellied whore's son and you think to take it alone? Tell you what, Sul and I, we'll keep him occupied, and you do whatever it is you do with that--" He waggled his sword in the air. "Spooky stuff."
"Look--" Bolin began.
"Too late."
The creature lurched forward, and the three men dove in three different directions. It hesitated, swinging its head from side to side, seeking its quarry. Bolin ignored the screaming pain in his left arm. He drew from the darker, harder edge of magic around Ciara's pendant, and flicked his hand out to send it towards the beast. Something slammed his shoulder and he went sprawling across the road. He twisted to get a look at the new threat and found nothing but darkness.
Sully yelled a warning and Bolin rolled. Mud and rock flew as huge claws dug trenches in the ground where he'd lain. A throaty rumble sounding suspiciously like laughter followed him as he got to his feet. The sound turned to a howl of pain. Bolin jerked his head around. Nialyne stood rooted in the center of the road, her magic dancing around her in swirls of green. The creature leveled its head and roared, spittle flying from its lips. It charged at her, but Nialyne stood firm. She held up a hand and a vine-like lash whipped out to wrap around the creature's legs. The ground vibrated as the beast toppled to its knees, bellowing.
Bolin sprinted for Nialyne as the creature staggered upright. A fistful of claws swung in the Galysian elder's direction, but they whistled through empty air, Garek getting there first. He grabbed Nialyne and hauled her off her feet, spinning her out of harm's way. The creature's nose twitched. It shuffled in a slow circle until it found Bolin. The lips pulled back over those deadly fangs a second time. Bolin skidded to a halt, nearly going down as his feet lost purchase in the mud. He started to back away, hoping to draw the beast with him, away from Garek and Nialyne.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end an instant too late. A shove between the shoulder blades launched him forward, his legs whipped out from under him, and he tumbled directly between the creature's iron-clad boots. Laughter again. This time a woman's. A hand the size of Garek's torso reached for Bolin. Before it found him, Sully rushed in from the side and drove his blade half-way through a muscle bound leg. The hand diverted, swatting the Lieutenant to the side as though he were little more than a bug.
Bolin scrambled out of the way. Another hand, this one Garek's, hauled him upright by the front of his shirt. The beast shrieked behind them, and Bolin cringed, panting.
"Nialyne again?" he asked.
Garek nodded. "Aye. She's a feisty one for a lady."
"She's going to get herself killed." He turned, and a sharp pain ripped up his left arm as though someone had reached under his skin and tried to tear the bone out through his fingertips. He bit back a scream and dropped to one knee. Ciara's pendant burned against his skin. In the periphery of his vision, Bolin saw the beast whirl away from Nialyne.
"Bolin." Garek's voice held warning.
Bolin staggered to his feet and shoved Garek to the side. "Get out of here." His voice rasped. He clenched his jaw against the pain and tried to clear his head.
A shame if my pretty kills you. A breath tickled his ear. I'd so like that treat for myself.
Bolin darted in and drew those fire-rimmed eyes back to him. Double sets of sword-like claws swooped towards him. Three of them fell to the ground in a spray of blood, and a howl shook the trees. Garek brought his gore covered sword up for another swing, but the beast arched backwards with a scream. Thorny vines of magic twisted around and through the sinewy body, threading back on themselves, attempting to rip it apart from the inside out. Bolin felt a sudden, albeit short-lived, wave of empathy for the beast. He knew that feeling all too well.
He caught Nialyne's eye where she stood, hands guiding her magic in a gentle rhythm as the creature pulled and clawed at each tendril in an effort to rid itself of them. She raised a brow at him and slanted her head, a clear indication she expected his assistance. Bolin choked down a breath, past the agony that now spread across his chest. He fought for focus, reaching out for the magic of the Greensward that spun so effortlessly from Nialyne. The Galysian elder's magic flowed through Bolin like a strong, summer breeze--a breeze he turned into a raging wind and sent slamming into the creature.
With a screech the likes of which he prayed to never hear again, the beast disintegrated into a shower of green sparks.
Bolin grabbed for a desperate breath and lurched forward onto his knees, head bowed.
Pity. He was one of my favorites.
He shuddered at the brush of lips across his cheek.
Don't worry, I have others.
Nialyne reached him first. Hunkering down in front of him she cupped his face in her hands and raised it to peer into his eyes. His breath popped out of him in short bursts as the pain subsided. Nialyne's brow furrowed, the corners of her mouth pulling downward.
"The Dominion priestess, I take it?"
Bolin could only nod. Above the pounding of his pulse he heard Garek issuing orders to find horses that had panicked during the fight. He wet his lips. "Help me up."
Nialyne stood and took him by the elbow. Then Garek had the other, and between them they got him on his feet. Bolin let them support him until his head stopped spinning, before he slowly extracted himself from their care. Garek held out a flask, and he took it. The sharp bite of heather wine sent a shudder through him, and he downed another swallow before handing it back.
He cleared his throat. "Sully?"
"Possibly a cracked rib or two, but he's had worse," Garek replied. "You?"
The sharp clash of steel on steel halted Bolin's response.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"They're after the horses!"
As soon as they formed ranks, the attack ended. The brush of Nialyne's magic drifted around Bolin, stretching out into the woods around them.
"They're gone," she said. She laid a hand on Bolin's arm. "Ciara."
Damn the unholies! Bolin whirled and sprinted back down the road. "Garek, with me."
Garek looked over his shoulder at Sully. "Get whatever horses we have left and start shifting everything from the cart."
The Lieutenant waved him off. "Got it. Go."
Bolin took the short route, clambering over the fallen tree. The rain had started again, this time a steady, gentle downpour that lacked the storm's former fury. His boots sloshed in the mud as he landed, and he dropped into a crouch, eyes scanning for signs of movement. Something shifted in his periphery, and he swung his head that way. A horse stood a short way off the far side of the road, reins tangled in a thorny bush. Bolin signaled Garek, and they moved in cautiously from opposite angles. Only when they were sure no marauders laid in wait did they approach the horse.
"Berk's," Garek said, leading the animal up onto the road. "Crossbow's still on the saddle. Means the lad wasn't too worried about attack when he dismounted."
"Unless he didn't mean to dismount," Bolin said.
"I've never known that to happen," Garek said. "Sits a horse as well as you, I'd wager."
Bolin went to where the cart had veered around the tree. An arm's reach in the other direction and the whole thing would have tumbled down the sheer embankment. They needed light or risked the same fate for themselves. Bolin called up a witch light and set the glowing orb bobbing ahead of them as he and Garek made their way down the slick bank. There would be no tracks to follow, not any more.