Nikko tried to embrace his death, and slide away into it, so that the pain would cease. People in the stories did it. Nikko couldn't.
The imps came out of hiding and crouched around him, licking their lips like hungry scavengers. The one that Nikko had seen earlier wearing a necklace of bones and teeth approached him. Nikko tried to lift his hand to shove the creature away, but could not find the strength to move. It squatted in front of him, grinning with a mouthful of misshapen, yellowed teeth. The leader gestured, speaking in a few high-pitched sounds.
They grabbed Nikko and yanked him out of his curl. One behind him forced the shafts through his body so that the barbed heads ripped out of him. Nikko groaned, and cried aloud. His body discharged its wastes, leaving him feeling like a sick, brutalized puppy.
The leader broke the heads off, and dropped them into a pouch at its waist.
Mother, I'm so cold . For a moment, he felt her presence, his mind blurred and he was a cub being wrapped in a blanket. Mother, hold me. I'm afraid .
The sensation vanished with a wave of fresh searing pain as the one behind Nikko jerked the betraying shafts back through him. The imp bundled the shafts, and passed them to the leader, who tied them to its bandoleer: there would be no evidence of who had slain him. Despair enveloped Nikko like a wet blanket in the snow, chilling him to the marrow of his bones.
Another one picked up his arm and bit a chunk from it. A canine whimpering, more animal than human, came from Nikko's throat. Their leader, the one wearing the necklace, thrust this fellow away, and gestured for the others to draw back. They obeyed, making complaining noises.
The one that had bitten Nikko sat chewing the piece of his flesh and grinning. Guud, he muttered in that squeaking imp tenor. Tasty."
Nikko's stomach surprised him by clenching uphe had thought his body incapable of reactions. This one had spoken in Common to be certain that Nikko knew they were going to eat him. Nikko prayed they would let him die first.
The imp leader grabbed the lawgiver runes around Nikko's throat to yank them off, and yelped. He sat back on his haunches, shaking his burned fingers. The runes had been consecrated generations ago and could not be touched by a creature of the darkness.
Nikko felt a small flash of satisfaction at that.
The leader snarled, seized Nikko's hand, bit his forefinger off, and dropped it in a pouch.
Nikko grimaced, moaned low in his throat, and closed his remaining fingers.
It can't be much longer. Not when I hurt like this.
The leader stepped back, gestured for the feast to begin, and left. They swarmed over Nikko.
Oh gods, no . Nikko's mind shrieked as they bit him. He realized what the deer felt like when his people, running as wolves, pulled them down in the winter hunting.
A large creature crashed through the trees near Nikko and then another. The imps screeched. Nikko could smell their panic. He heard a swish of something heavy and several imps fell dead across him, their blood mingling with his. The others fled through the trees with a crashing of leaves and branches. Battle-magics filled the air with an acrid odor.
Then silence.
Nikko's awareness narrowed into darkness. He knew it was nearly over for him and the evidence had been carried away.
Hands touched him and he felt the wash of a Reader's power through him. Someone forced a bottle between Nikko's teeth, a burning liquid poured into his mouth as a hand thumped his chest. Swallow, damn you. Swallow. It will help."
Nikko swallowed convulsively. The liquid burned worse going down than it had in his mouth, yet the pain eased.
"It's bad, said a voice with the lilting accents of the Faery folk. I don't think he'll make it. There's Devil's Silver all through him."
Nikko opened his eyes and his fading sight took in the visage of the ugliest human he had ever seen. Beside that one crouched a slender Fae with a pair of golden fans folded and tucked into his sash. He had to tell them, and tried to force the words out. Saaaa ... Saaaaa ... necari. Mal Nikko's head listed to the side, settled on the arm of the ugly human, and he went still.
"Was that a word or name he was trying to say? Mal? Hathura asked, glancing at Lokynen, as he unshouldered his pack, dug around in it and brought out lengths of linen. He bandaged Nikko's wounds, and removed the darts from his body.
"Devil's Silver? Lokynen asked, wishing that his wife Amberlin were with him. She knew all of that stuff. However, she was too close to giving birth to be risked out here.
"Silver dissolved into an arcane acid that is compatible with certain snake venoms and plant poisons, said Hathura. Unless we get him to Navaryn fast, he'll die. It may already be too late. He's lapsed into shock. He shouldered his pack and rose with Nikko cradled in his arms like a child as if the full-grown lycan weighed nothing at all.
"Jump out of here."
"I can't. The Jump alone would kill him. Run with me."
* * * *
Three dead lycans had been removed from the poles and Malthus allies sat eating them. The brukulaco had a femur in his hands from which all the flesh had been gnawed off. He broke the femur open and began sucking out the marrow as he watched the imps approaching.
"Ahhhh, Laetus said. Here they come."
The leader of the imps trotted up to Malthus. He reached into his pouch, took out a bloody severed finger, and put it in Malthus hand. Dead now. He gave Malthus a pouch, untied the shafts, and dropped them at Malthus feet.
Malthus opened it and counted the points. All here. You did well, Gahni. Counting the shafts, he frowned. One's missing."
"Give more meat? Gahni asked, gesturing at the lycan corpses hanging from the poles.
"Take one down and enjoy it, Malthus said. But see that you find the other shaft before morning."
"Generous. We find."
Malthus wondered about the missing shaft. Perhaps he should change his fletching. No. Gahni's people would find it. He felt certain of that. Well, it's time for you to show me that cave. I want to pick one out and have that rite I've been starving for."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DECISIONS
Navaryn's house nestled in a tiny dell that had only one outlet, a narrow neck in the stone that required myn to pass single file. A sheer cliff blocked the back with a waterfall descending from its heights to feed the stream running through the center of the little valley. Her gifts concealed the entrance from those who had been given permission to approach her. Elms and maples shrouded the garden and the yard. Goats and sheep bleated in the pasturage behind the house. Two big dogs rushed out at Lokynen and Hathura, sniffed at them and then the mon in Hathura's strong arms. The dogs trotted back to the house to let their master know that she had company.
The master of the house was standing on the veranda when they reached it. Navaryn toyed with a long length of her pale, silvery hair as she reached out to touch Nikko. A village lawgiver, she said, noting the runes hanging from his neck. The lycan born yuwenghau Read Nikko with a quick brush of her fingers. Arrow wounds and he's full of Devil's Silver. Bring him."
Hathura tossed an irritating glance at Lokynen, as if to say: yes, there is such a thing.
They entered the large, airy house through an expansive foyer. To their left opened a long, deep sitting room and ahead of them waited the kitchens and the hallway leading to more rooms and a stairway to the second floor. Navaryn's daughter, Pandeena was just coming down the stairs. She wore a soft, knee-length shift and light sandals whose thongs wrapped up her shapely legs to the hem of her shift.
Navaryn gestured for Pandeena to come with them. I need you."
Pandeena squeezed against the balusters so that they could pass, and followed them back upstairs. She ran to the linen closet in the hall and returned with several thick pads.
Hathura carried Nikko into a guest room that Navaryn indicated with her hand. Pandeena darted past Hathura, turned back the covers, and spread the pads on it. It was easier on a patient to change the pads than to change complete bed
linens. They were also very absorbent and easily cleaned.
Navaryn helped them settle Nikko on the bed. She glanced at them. Hathura, you know better than to tear barbed heads from someone."
Hathura looked distressed by her statement. I didn't do it. Imps did. None of the shafts or heads were left behind either."
Navaryn frowned. That's strange."
Pandeena went to tall chest of drawers, opened one, and started laying her mother's tools and medicines out on the nightstand.
"What's more. Hathura touched Nikko's hand, indicating the missing finger. Their leader bit his finger off and took it with him as a trophy."
"Proof of his death? Navaryn suggested. Imps don't use arrows, although they've shot him full enough of Death Lotus to put him down."
Hathura and Lokynen exchanged glances. We didn't see anyone else, Lokynen said.
Navaryn began cutting away the bandages and probing the wounds as she spoke. Damn! These imps never leave evidence behind. Their master is cunning."
"You know him? Lokynen asked.
"Only by his deeds and his trademark. Hundreds of my people have died at his hands. He's the Butchering Serpent."
"You should leave now, Pandeena said. Mother and I must try to draw the poisons out of him and mend his injuries. She gazed down at Nikko. He's so young, mother, to be suffering like this."
"It's always the young males who die first in these wars. Now hush and work, said Navaryn.
* * * *
Hathura followed Lokynen down to the sitting room before either of them said anything. Dark brown polished furniture filled the airy room, contrasting pleasantly with the whitewashed walls and blue carpets. Linen curtains fluttered in the breeze from seven huge windows. Sofas, heavy chairs, and long, low tables filled it. Despite the obvious stoutness of the furniture, only the largest chair at the far end felt comfortable to Lokynen's massive body. So he headed for that one, as was his wont.
"What do you know about this Butchering Serpent? Lokynen asked.
"Rumor mostly, Hathura replied. A battle-clan hit a manor house that the Sharani missed. It was well hidden in one of these interminable craggy valleys. There are thousands of them in the Eiralyskali Mountains. Any way, their leader had heard that someone was kidnapping lycans, mostly city lycans, and experimenting on them. The manor was abandoned when they arrived. The owner must have gotten wind of their coming."
Lokynen took his favorite seat.
Hathura's eyes lidded as he sat down in a chair by the window nearest him.
"And? Lokynen asked impatiently.
Hathura sucked in a breath. What they found in the basements were cells filled with dead or dying lycans. Mutilations, vivisections, poisonings. Those that lived long enough told them of mass graves on the estate. Spellcorded lycans, with coercions in their minds to prevent flight or fight, had been forced to dig the graves for their own kind. The graves were found. They contained more than two hundred bodies. All lycan."
"Did they describe the bastard?"
"No. He came to them masked. They did know one thing. He was sa'necari."
"Damn them! I'd like to see every single one of them dead."
"So would I, Hathura said softly. Sooo would I."
"How many villages are close to where we found this mon?"
Hathura considered. Close enough for him to have traveled in half a day?"
"Yeah."
"Three. There's a fishing village near Big Willows. That's where we found him. Big Willows. There's Wolffgard where the chieftain lives about half a day southwest on the banks of the Eirlys. I seriously doubt the main village would have such a young lawgiver. Last time I was there it was a big lycan named Nevin Scarface. And there's Muddy Paws to the east of Big Willows."
"Can I get either of you wine? Navaryn's housekeeper, a middle-aged lycan named Ruthvena, entered with a tray bearing a bottle of red wine, plates of cheeses, and glasses. She set the tray on a nearby table and opened the bottle.
"I could use it, Lokynen said.
They drank for a time and then Lokynen asked, Could you Jump me around to those villages to have a talk with some of the folk?"
"Jumping, old friend, isn't as simple as you think it is. First you have to have visited a place or already gotten some kind of fix on it. Then you must make certain you're going to pop out in an unoccupied spot. You don't want to materialize partly in someone else's body or a wall."
"Then how am I going to check these places out?"
"Nothing is simple. We either walk or we see if Navaryn will loan us horses. Assuming she has anything big enough to carry you."
Lokynen glared at Hathura. Okay. We walk."
"And another thing. They aren't going to trust you right off. You're not lycan."
"And we can't simply walk in and declare ourselves yuwenghau."
Hathura laughed at him. No, we certainly can't. The first thing this Butchering Serpent would do would be to shoot us bothin the back."
"Take me back to where we found him. Maybe we can find which way he came from."
"All right my friend, finish your glass and give me your hand. Ruthvena, we're leaving. Tell Navaryn we won't be gone more than a day."
Lokynen put his big hand over Hathura's slender one and felt the tingle of a Jump. Instantly, they were back at the spot in Big Willows where they had come across Nikko. The bodies of dozens of slain imps lay scattered upon the ground and among the trees. Flies buzzed thick, crawling over the orange skinned corpses.
Hathura studied the ground, walked around the tree that Nikko had been found beneath, and pointed to the broken brush. There's your trail."
They backtracked from there, and found the place where Nikko had left the hunter's trace. A bit of crimson and black feathers caught Hathura's eyes.
"Hmmmn. What's this? Hathura knelt and stuck his hand gingerly into the briars, withdrawing a broken shaft. Let's take this to Navaryn and see if she recognizes the fletching."
"I want to know where he came from first, Lokynen said.
"I can tell you that. The game trail leads to a road that way. Hathura said. He came from Wolffgard."
"Then I'm going to Wolffgard. The Serpent is there."
Hathura caught hold of Lokynen's massive arm; his long fingers could not encircle the limb. Lokynen, listen to me. Our wounded wolf could have lived somewhere else and simply been visiting. We need to get someone inside that village to ask questions without drawing undue notice. The Butchering Serpent is extremely dangerous."
Lokynen shrugged Hathura and started down the game trail.
"If you mess up, Amberlin is going to be very disappointed in you."
Lokynen stopped in his tracks, turned slowly, and glared at Hathura.
"Just ask yourself, Lokynen, what would Amberlin do?"
"Talk to Navaryn."
Hathura nodded.
* * * *
Malthus sat feeding upon another slain messenger, sucking all the juices out of the limp body. His imps crouched around him, begging for pieces. They preferred the flesh. Thanks to his efforts, the valley was becoming increasingly isolated. He had slipped the garrote around their unwitting throats, yet they would not realize it until he tightened it and cut off their breath. No messages had gotten in or out for weeks. It was time to send Merissa one of his own and sign Nevin's name to it. Apparently Isranon had known about the child since late spring, but Claw had chosen not to inform Merissa of that. He would need to send Claw one also in the same package.
He had begun to see many strange faces among the last batch of newcomers to arrive here. Most had come asking for refuge like the others, but some had simply appeared out of nowhere and taken up residence in various households or built their own on the east fringes of the lycan village. Some of them smelled of power, which made Malthus both curious and cautious.
His imps had eaten Nikko and tossed his bones in the river like they always did. No Reader would be able to establish Nikko's identity from his bones, nor what had killed
him. Malthus had never expected that the poison would take so long to kill Nikko; therefore, he would change the formulation a bit, increase the amount of Devil's Silver in it, or use a more concentrated form on his next batch. If the right Reader got hold of those points, or the remains of one of his victims, they would recognize his trademark poisonbut he had never missed a kill yet and no one would be able to connect his face to them. No victim had ever lived long enough to describe him.
Malthus liked the name the lycans had given him over the years: the Butchering Serpent. He had enjoyed telling Dyllys just who she had almost married that last morning, when she had awakened from drugged slumber on his altar. She had cursed, pleaded, told him she loved him, right up until the moment he shoved the first blade in. Then she had screamed. She deserved it for betraying the location of his manor to that battle-clan.
He wanted to take the chieftain alive, if possible, and kill him last. That would serve Claw for taking the Sharanis part in this war. Once they took the first villages, Claw would be forced to take the field against them and that should leave the main village more vulnerable to their tactics.
A daydream of Merissa flitted into his mind. Malthus vividly imagined her writhing desperately and ineffectually beneath him as he violated her and sank his fangs into her lovely neck; watching her belly swell with his child; taking her home to his mother to show what a docile and loving wife she had become.
"You're daydreaming about her again, aren't you? Egidius climbed up the rock to sit beside Malthus.
Malthus lifted his blood rimmed mouth, lowered the fragile windsmon's body to his lap, and snarled, So what if I am?"
Egidius shrugged, making a gesture for peace. I don't get it. That's all. I don't mind them on my altar or in my bed, but I'd never marry one."
"You don't appreciate their finer points."
Malthus tossed the body to the imps and watched them scramble to divide it up with their knives.
Egidius settled against a boulder, sitting on one with his back to the rocks and his legs hanging from a sharp edge. He pulled a preserving bottle from his pouchthey were nearly unbreakableand took a long drink before continuing. And how is she going to handle it when you execute her family? They're traitors to the queen, after all."
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