Elena slashed something live, ducked and stuck a knife into a gleaming red eye. Another beast jumped at her, missed and knocked Michael down. Horrorstruck, Elena’s eyes widened, fierce light flashing out of them, her pupils changed. She moved so fast, had someone time to watch her, he would have seen only a blur.
Michael found himself under a monster that had lost a fraction of a second being surprised by landing on someone else than it had intended to. It snapped its teeth at him. He saw them whip towards him, but could do nothing. Right in front of his face the teeth had stopped and vanished. Elena slashed; the beast’s head flew off its neck into the pack of its furious fellows. The body slumped onto Michael, who tried in vain to get from under a mass almost twice his size. While her sword drew an almost perfect arc in the air and struck another animal between open jaws, with her left hand, Elena grabbed the hair on the scruff of the beheaded body, and heaved. The dead animal flew through the air, hitting the pack, scattering it like skittles.
“Let’s go!” she yelled at him. The moment the last syllable left her tongue, her voice changed into a horrible roar that took aback not only the beasts, but Michael and Elena also. However, that moment of surprise gave them a miniature lead of several steps that brought them to their horses. Trying to fend off more animals, they managed to get into their saddles. Horrified by what appeared in his saddle, Ashkent flattened his ears and shot towards the path even before Elena jammed her heals into his sides. Kran followed. With swords in their hands, bent low to their mounts’ necks, they flew along the path. The monsters failed to keep up the speed and fell back, but still they pursued their pray.
It was hard to say who was more terrified; whether Elena, or Ashkent, who found himself with an enraged dragon behind his ears. His nostrils were full of dragon scent and he could not get away from it no matter how fast he ran. Michael was desperately holding onto his saddle. Kran’s every move shot stabbing pain from a deep gash on Michael’s back throughout his whole body. From the gloom in front of them an almost invisible junction appeared. Elena pulled the reins and Ashkent unwillingly, but abruptly halted. Kran and Michael had their hands full not to collide with him. Elena turned. The monsters were gone, but that did not seem to put her to ease. Under her, Ashkent was dancing, bucking, flattening his ears to his head and rolling his eyes. Elena tried to calm him down, patting his neck and talking to him. Her voice worked like a soothing charm, even though it was full of fear.
The junction worried her. She was desperate to find a sign that would point her in the right direction.
“Eli …” Michael wanted to urge her on. Elena turned dragon eyes at him. Even with those horrid eyes, she looked terrified. Her cheek was still red from his slap.
“Are you all right?” she blurted out, breathless.
“Which way?” he asked to avoid answering.
“I don’t know!” she wailed.
“Find out, fast!” he prompted. He could hear her draw air into her lungs.
“Calm down, we can do this,” said he, not really sure who he was trying to reinsure. And then he realized what he had just said.
“I have no clue how ya’ do it, but just don’t get too calm. We need the dragon in ya’!” Though she tried to laugh, only an unsure gurgle came out of her.
Elena strained to concentrate on the trees around her. The dancing Ashkent did not make it any easier. Calm down, easy! It felt as if the treetops were falling on her head. Her blood was on fire. The Wood hummed, surged with magical energy, tempting her to use it. Her cheek burned from Michael’s slap. Magic surrounded her, pressed down on her, and lured her. She could hear it whispering to her. She could feel its strength.
Memory of the feeling she had before Michael slapped her, found its way into her mind and was too strong. The Black Wood baited her to use magic. But she knew that any kind of spell would be like a match struck in a room full of gas. The smallest of enchantments would open the path to her own energy. The Wood was a parasite, feeding on the power of those silly enough to listen to its call.
Elena raised her eyes. The sign was so far away she could barely see it in the gloom. It was almost hidden in the bark of the trunk directly under the lowest branch. Ashkent shot forward.
“Eli, that path is turning back!” yelled Michael, following her.
“It is the right one!” she replied. True enough, the path was twisting and turning in loops, tempting them to cut their way short by riding straight across.
“Keep to the trail!” Elena screamed at Michael, aware of his inkling. The sound of her own voice rumbled in her head over and over and over. She wished to be out of the godsforsaken place maybe more than her companion and she had to restrain herself from recklessly taking the straightest way out.
After some time, the path at least began to point in sort of the right direction, though it was winding still more and more. Michael was feeling sick. His wound was deep and bleeding heavily. Elena noticed it when they found themselves on different branches of the same loop. Immediately she dismounted and began rummaging in her saddlebags.
“What’ya doing?” Michael shouted at her.
“You’re hurt.”
“We must go!”
“You’ll be no use if you faint on me,” she barked at him and forced him to dismount.
“Can’t use magic in here, this will have to do,” she commented, dressing his wound with herbs and bandages. Though she worked fast, she feared she was not fast enough. Michael had hardly pulled his shirt and coat back on, when wargs appeared between the trees. The children looked at one another and scrambled into their saddles.
“We have to go across …” Michael started to say.
“No! We must stick to the path!” Elena cut him short as wargs drew near. Elena caressed Ashkent’s neck.
“I need you now, boy,” she whispered into his ears.
“C’mon! They’ll be here any second!” prompted Michael.
“We have to stay on the path!” she repeated and urged Ashkent on slower than Michael thought wise.
“Them loops are slowing us down!” Suddenly a stone was in her hand. He had no idea where she got it from.
“Watch!” With all her might, she slammed the rock into rotting leaves about a meter from the path. Michael watched it, fascinated, expecting it to bounce. The rock, however, landed in the leaves and submerged as if it had landed in mud. Michael held his breath.
“How did ya’ know?”
“I just hope the swamp or whatever it is, is wide enough and they can’t jump that far,” Elena replied and urged Ashkent into canter. She did not want to tire him too much; afraid she might still need his speed later.
The wargs drew to just a few meters from the path and ran alongside it. Its loops did not bother them, thus soon they ran level with the children, some even ahead of them.
“They’ll be waiting for us,” Michael warned Elena.
“I know.”
“What ya’ wanna do?”
“You are the warrior here, I’m just a chit of a princess,” Elena snapped. He laughed even though a dragon was still looking at him through her eyes. She looked rather desperate even so. Wargs could outrun just about any horse and these had a head start. It was obvious they knew the trail and knew how close to it they can get.
“Fire,” Elena suggested.
“But …” Michael tried to protest.
“Not my fire, simply fire, burning arrows,” Elena answered slightly impatiently.
“Yep, that’s a …” A drop fell on Michael’s head. The leaves above their heads were too heavy with water; it was beginning to dribble down onto them. “good idea,” Michael finished. Elena pulled out a firelock and dismounted. Michael held out a torch for her to light. They both knew that with his wounded back, his shooting was not going to be any good. He prepared a few of his arrows anyway. Right now, right here, there was no fair play.
Burning arrows whipped through the air with such a speed he could hardly follow them. For a moment, war
gs became targets in a shooting gallery. Those not killed immediately ran around with their hides in flames, setting on fire the bushes they rolled in, trying to put the fire out. Those unharmed attacked their wounded brothers, tearing them apart. Some disappeared into the gloom. Smoke reeking of burned leaves, wood and fur, hovered under the impenetrable treetops. Two wargs tried to jump onto the path. Fiery arrows hit them midair. One fell well away from the path and began to sink immediately. The ¨second one almost made it, missing Ashkent by centimeters, hitting the path with front paws. Desperate, he tried to scramble onto firm ground, but the swamp closed around him and sucked him downward. As he slowly disappeared under the surface, bubbles bulged around his body. As if mesmerized, Elena watched them inflate.
“Go!” Michael yelled at her, jumping into the saddle. Elena was just a split second slower. Ashkent, followed by Kran, shot forward as if they had fire underneath them. The roar booming behind them, proved them right. The swamp was engulfed in flames and exploded, spitting out several fireballs, spreading fire to the other side of the path and further between the trees.
They stampeded along the winding path, while the fire, which had a shorter distance to cover, was beginning to draw level. The air grew thick with smoke; flames began to lick the treetops. A few meters ahead of them, the path began to straighten. Despite the neck-breaking gallop, Elena wrapped Ashkent’s reins around the pommel, steering with her knees. She drew another arrow, and prepared to shoot, though it was difficult to see through all the smoke.
The path was almost straight now. Both horses shot forward even faster. A warg surfaced out of the smoke, darting through the air, his muscles tensed. He was larger than Ashkent. One arrow hit him in the eye, another in the neck through an open mouth. Elena flattened herself onto Ashkent’s neck, as he gathered even more speed. The assailant missed her by a hair and collapsed lifeless onto the path. Kran only barely managed to jump over him.
Air was full of smoke, thickening the gloom into smoky darkness. Another warg silhouette emerged from the fumes and attacked Michael, who lashed out with his sword, hitting the animal behind its vertex, but that did not stop the attack. The warg collided with Kran, knocking him to the ground. Michael flew out of the saddle. Gathering himself, he dashed to help his steed with short swords in both hands. Elena turned in her saddle. At full gallop, Ashkent pirouetted with skill any ballerina would have been proud of, dropping his rear almost to the ground. Elena pushed off the saddle even before he had finished turning. She landed astride the warg with her sword raised above her head. Her own weight supported by movement speed helped plunge the sword deep into the warg’s neck, severing its spine. The beast tumbled over its head and lay still. Falling with the animal, Elena also rolled, and jumped to her feet, eyes ablaze. At the same time, a third warg attacked. Michael parried and stabbed him in the side of the neck. Sheer momentum threw the dead beast to Elena’s feet.
They were off the path. Fire was spreading fast. Smoke filled their lungs. Flames approached them, hissing angrily. Both children realized it was raining. Finally, water had found its way through the thick leaves, and was coming down at them, the downpour stronger by the minute.
Michael helped Kran to his feet. The horse was shaking all over, a bad looking wound on his side. Michael patted his nape, looking the horse over quickly. Meanwhile, Elena was trying to peer through the thickening darkness and smoke.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” Her voice faltered. Michael grabbed Kran’s reins and ran back towards the path. Elena followed. She caught Ashkent. Where it was possible, they ran side by side, leaving the fire behind them. What was falling down on them now, was not rain it was a regular downpour. All the water that had earlier been stopped by the thick treetops was now flooding the Wood. The trail was slippery, water covering it in puddles that made it almost impossible to see under their feet.
Michael saw almost nothing, so instinctively he grabbed Ashkent’s tail, running almost blind. Elena’s night vision was better than Michael’s, but after some time, even she had to stop.
“Are we screwed?” Michael asked the dark shadow in front of him.
“I can’t see through all the water, can’t see the path. I’m scared we will wonder off it!”
“What ya’ wanna do?” Michael tried to get her moving again. In the dark, Elena shrugged her shoulders. She was drenched, cold and tired, she knew Michael was bleeding and she herself was hurt. Ashkent nudged her with his nose, also not happy with the situation. Kran hung his head.
“We can’t be far from the edge,” Michael stated halfheartedly.
“It’s all the same if we lose the trail.”
“How about that light over there?” Michael pointed to what looked like fire flickering between the trees on the verge of visibility. Elena found his arm in the dark and caught it.
“It’s just another trick! We are dead if we leave the path.” She sounded panicky, but Michael didn’t seem to notice.
“Can’t be magic in here. Isn’t fire with all this rain, unless it’s covered by something. That means roof, a house.” Michael seemed not to have noticed what Elena just said.
“How would it get there? It’s magic all right, but magic of the Black Wood. We must move on,” she urged.
“Ye? And how exactly do ya’ wanna do that?”
“If I had light …”
“Sure. If ya’ use magic, it’ll suck you out like an oyster, and real fire has no chance in this downpour.”
“How about we try under canvas?” Elena offered.
“Not enough hands,” Michael rejected the idea.
“We could tie one end to a saddle.”
“And ya’ll carry it how?”
“Er!”
“What about the dragon?”
“What?”
“The dragon. Wilbur sees in the dark, rain or shine,” Michael explained almost patiently.
“Yep, right, this is just the time for wisecracks,” Elena protested.
“Sure is, but I ain’t kidding. If ya’ have dragon blood, use it.” He was still pondering the possibilities of the mysterious light he noticed between the trees.
“How am I supposed to do that?” Elena snapped at him.
“Ya’ asking me? How should I know? ‘aint a dragon myself.” Actually, she was freaking him out. Her dragon eyes were the only thing he could see in the pitch dark. He’d better not think about why that fire still flared inside her. As far as he could tell, previously the dragon within her had top hand only when she was very angry or scared. Had he guessed how scared out of her wits she was at the moment, he would not have given it a thought, and would have been a lot more freaked out himself.
Elena stared at him.
“I don’t know how to do it!” she wailed and he could hear the panic creep into her voice. Spending the night in Black Wood was an odds-on deadly situation. On top of that, there was the gullywasher. Neither of them was naïve enough to think the monsters of the Black Wood would hide out of the rain instead of hunting down a relatively easy prey. Farr away in the trees, another light flickered into life. Then, another one, and another. Michal thought he could see building outlines.
“There’s a village there, for sure,” he announced.
“Don’t even think about it!” Elena shouted at him, grabbing his arm with a steel grip. Michael tried to step toward the light, but she refused to let go.
“How did you mean it with the dragon? Talk to me!” Elena was trying to keep his thoughts straight.
“Don’t know. Just imagine ya’re a dragon. Ya’ have it in ya’. A dragon would see the ground from a kilometer’s height. Someone certainly lives there and they have fire and a roof.”
“And teeth and talons and gods know what else,” Elena snapped.
“I’m hungry,” Michael complained.
“So am I, concentrate!”
“I haven’t eaten all day and I can smell roast meat.” With an open palm, she slammed the spot she thought to be his face. The
re was a smack, as the slap landed on his ear.
“Ouch! Hey, why did ya’ do that?” Michael complained.
“I can’t concentrate with you flapping nonsense.”
“’s not my fault I’m hungry and cold.”
“Your brain is softening, we need to get out of here,” Elena barked at him. Michael could have sworn he could see the outlines of houses. Somebody must be living there.
“How am I supposed to imagine I’m a dragon?” she continued.
“Tell ya’self ya’ have fangs, ya’re a huge lizard with wings and ya’ can fly. No clue! Do something. Or don’t do a thing and we’ll ask them guys if they’ll let us sleep over and give us something to eat.”
This time she hit him right under the chin with a bunched up fist so hard, his head flew back and his teeth snapped together.
He stared at her bewildered through the night. Elena closed her eyes, even though it made hardly any difference in the darkness, but it made her feel better. Trying to remember Wilbur’s description of flying high in the sky, she wished for a pair of wings that would carry her out of the Wood. She tried to imagine she was so large she could stick her head through the leaves and see above the trees.
Michael kept pulling away from her, trying to free himself from her grip. Two spots of light flashed in the darkness, as she opened her eyes. Elena growled at her companion so darkly he tried to back away.
“It doesn’t w…” she started and stopped. The world had changed. Suddenly everything was in different shades of blue and orange. Michael was an orange human-shaped mass with a pulsating red sphere in its center. Everything else had a light blue background of diamonds falling out of the sky. Fascinated by the play of lights, she lifted her hand and watched the gems shatter into tiny bright slivers on her palm. Elena looked down to see her orange feet standing on the edge of a black ribbon outlined with shiny blue, flickering spots. Glancing around, she could see the black ribbon of the path winding between the pale ghosts of trees. She turned her head back to Michael and wanted to laugh, but noticed silent orange forms gliding speedily from tree to tree.
The Witch (Dragon Eyes Book 1) Page 22