Valanandir forced his eyes shut, willing sleep to come. He was cradled between two branches, close to the trunk of an oak tree. The ground seemed very far below. Iadrawyn had scrambled up first, as lightly as a squirrel, bringing a rope with her for Valanandir to climb. Now it was her turn to keep watch while he slept, but the discomfort of being so high up and the sporadic rustling of the leaves in the breeze made sleep impossible.
Giving up, Valanandir opened his eyes. Iadrawyn appeared completely comfortable sitting on a limb next to him, her legs dangling. She sat with her back against the trunk of the tree, staring out into the darkness. While she watched, she busied herself with replaiting the small braids scattered through her long, raven hair. Her nimble fingers moved in a steady rhythm, almost like a dance. Valanandir found his eyelids growing heavy as he watched the hypnotic movement.
A hand gripped his arm, jerking him to alertness. It felt as if only moments had passed since he had closed his eyes. He looked from the white-knuckled hand to its owner. Iadrawyn’s eyes were wide with fear. With her other hand, she pointed downward.
Valanandir shifted ever so slowly to look down. At first he saw nothing. Then a shadow of movement caught his eye. The creature was elf-shaped, but its movements were furtive, almost like those of an animal. Valanandir’s bowels turned to ice.
Drakhal.
The creature was almost doubled over, its face pressed close to the ground. Despite Iadrawyn’s efforts to mask their trail, it appeared to have followed them somehow. Valanandir had heard legends the drakhalu could follow the scent of their victims’ blood without it ever being spilled. He had always wondered if it were true. Now it seemed he would learn the answer.
The drakhal drew closer to the tree that sheltered them, presumably drawn by their invisible scent. Valanandir’s fingers gripped the rough bark of his perch so tightly, it cut into his palms. Although he wanted to look over at Iadrawyn for reassurance, he didn’t dare move for fear of creating some small sound that would draw the dark creature’s attention upward.
The drakhal circled the base of the tree. Valanandir’s breath was coming fast now. He couldn’t seem to get enough air. Iadrawyn was frozen in place on the branch beside him. The drakhal meandered below, following an invisible trail. Its lithe movements were hypnotic. Soon it would find them and it would be over.
Valanandir eased his knife from his belt. Even though he knew it was hopeless, he wouldn’t go down without a fight. If he could keep the creature’s attention focused on him, perhaps Iadrawyn could escape. It was the best he could hope for.
The drakhal put its hand against the trunk of the tree. It was just about to look up when a sudden gust of wind seemed to rise from nowhere, swirling around the tree several times before heading in a southwesterly direction. Valanandir pushed his hair aside and looked over at Iadrawyn. Her hair was tangled and she looked just as surprised as he was. Her eyes dropped back downward to watch what was happening below. Valanandir’s gaze followed.
The shadowed form of the drakhal had gone tense, its head raised to catch the breeze. It gave the ground another sniff before smelling the air once more. It took a few steps in the direction of the wind before returning to the tree, appearing confused. Valanandir held his breath, not daring to believe something so simple as a breeze might save them.
There was a rustle of leaves below to the west. The drakhal’s head swiveled to follow the movement. Presumably it was some woodland creature, or one of the Wood Elf search parties, but combined with the change of scent direction, it must seem suspicious.
The drakhal froze for several moments in indecision. The rustling started again, this time from a more southerly direction. Its mind made up, the drakhal left the tree to follow the sound. Valanandir slowly exhaled, unable to believe their good fortune. He closed his eyes in relief.
A tapping on his thigh got his attention. Valanandir opened his eyes to see Iadrawyn miming that it was her turn to sleep. Valanandir nodded and she leaned back against the tree trunk, closing her eyes. Between their uncomfortable perch and what had just happened, he didn’t know how she would be able to sleep, but within moments her breathing slowed. She must have been exhausted from leading him and constantly doubling back to cover their trail. Her face had gone lax and her lips parted slightly. Even in sleep she was beautiful. He watched her until light filled the sky.
Light Chasers (The World of Lasniniar Book 0) Page 17