The Binding Stone: The Dragon Below Book 1 Page 10
The tiny flame exploded with a roar, flashing in a sudden inferno so bright it forced the wizard to fling up an arm to protect his eyes. Even Dandra gasped at the blast.
So did Adolan.
The massive hunter—so caught up in his rage that he didn’t seem to notice the fiery magic at all—swung his axe in a heavy, overhand blow that sheared through the druid’s spear and into his chest.
Adolan fell to his knees. Dandra’s gasp turned into a scream. Singe froze in shock. The hunter planted one foot on Adolan’s chest and forced him backward as he wrenched at his weapon. The axe came free in a spray of blood. Adolan swayed but remained on his knees, his eyes watching the wide blade sweep up …
With a bellow of pure animal rage, Geth surged out of the night and leaped onto the hunter like a beast. His gauntleted hand seized the handle of the axe above the hunter’s grip and wrenched it back so hard that Singe heard the man’s thick wrists snap. In the same movement, he jammed his sword vertically into the hunter’s belly and all the way up under his breast bone. Blood burst out of the warrior’s mouth.
Geth’s weight carried his body to the ground, but the shifter rolled free and groped for Adolan. “Ado! Ado!”
The druid was still on his knees, still staring up into the night. Blood trickled through his red-brown beard. At the shifter’s desperate touch, though, his eyes seemed to clear. His mouth moved, shaping words that emerged as a froth of blood. His hand fumbled toward the collar of polished black stones around his neck—
—then fell away as his body shuddered. Somewhere in the sky above, Breek screamed. A moment later, Geth roared at the night.
CHAPTER
6
A sound like an avalanche brought Singe’s head up. Out on the common, the elemental that Adolan had summoned from the Bull Hole was falling apart in midstride, the earth and stones that had formed its body tumbling to the ground. The dolgrims it had been pursuing stopped and stared—then advanced cautiously to prod the heaped stone with their weapons. Singe swung around to stare past the scorched circle of his spell. A few human bodies lay within the blackened ring, but not nearly enough to account for all the Bonetree hunters. In the shadows beyond, he could make out figures emerging from the trees and picking themselves up from the ground.
“Moons!” he cursed. He leaped down from the barricade and dashed to Dandra. The kalashtar seemed frozen, watching Geth as he held Adolan’s body, his forehead touching the druid’s. Singe caught her arm. “They’re regrouping!”
She started and whirled around, picking out exactly what he had. Their enemies were gathering themselves for a new attack. “Il-Yannah,” she breathed. There was an edge of terror to her voice. “Will they never stop?”
“We need to find somewhere defensible,” Singe told her. “Somewhere we can put our backs to a wall—”
“No,” said Geth.
Singe spun back to the shifter. He was standing, Adolan’s collar of stones around his neck. The druid lay at his feet. A line of dirt had been traced down his pain-twisted face. Geth’s face was smudged with dirt as well. Beneath it, the shifter’s features were hard with barely restrained emotion.
“We aren’t staying here,” he said. He bent and ripped his sword out of the Bonetree hunter’s corpse. His eyes swept around the ruins of Bull Hollow. Singe followed his gaze and realized that there wasn’t a living inhabitant of the hamlet left on the common. Dol Arrah, he prayed, let them be safe in the woods!
Geth strode toward him and Dandra. “You said before,” the shifter asked Dandra, “that if you fled, the hunter and the dolgrims would follow you. Do you think they still will?”
Dandra nodded. “Yes. More than ever.”
“Good. We’re leading them away from here. All of us.” He gestured with his armored hand toward still-closed doors of the stable. “Singe, get horses—battle measures.”
The old words of the Frostbrand. Instinct pushed Singe to obey before he even fully understood what Geth was proposing. Understanding came as he fumbled at the stable doors.
Battle measures—act quickly, take the best, deal only with the necessary. They would use Dandra as bait to lead their vile enemies away from Bull Hollow, to give any survivors a better chance to hide.
He glanced at Toller’s body behind the barricade, killed by the dolgaunt while defending a place and people he didn’t know. His jaw tightened.
He pulled open the door of the stable. Inside, the building echoed with the cries of panicked horses. An everbright lantern hung beside the door. He took it and lowered the shade to expose the light within, then made his way down the center aisle of the stables.
His own horse, battle-trained, was waiting quietly. He saddled the animal with a speed born from long practice, then turned to Toller’s horse, trained like his own, and a spirited-looking mare. Unused to strange hands, only the mare gave him trouble.
“Singe!” called Geth from outside. “We need those horses!”
“Almost ready!” he called back. He got a bit into the mare’s mouth, then released his horse and Toller’s before backing the mare out of her stall.
Outside, the hunters and the dolgrims were still sorting themselves out. A shout went up, though, as an alert hunter spotted the horses. Their enemies began to close, warily this time.
Geth took the mare’s reins and nodded at the lantern in Singe’s hand. “Keep it open,” he said. “We want them to follow us.” He swung into the mare’s saddle. Singe climbed onto his horse, then held Toller’s steady as Dandra scrambled awkwardly into the saddle. Geth watched her with an unpitying eye. “Hold tight and stay low,” he advised her. “Now follow me!”
With a tight shout and a kick at his mount’s sides, he galloped straight at the clustered Bonetree hunters. Singe darted a glance at Dandra. She nodded grimly—then raised her voice in a fierce, rippling cry. “Adar! Adar! Bhintava adarani!”
Toller’s eager horse needed no other urging. It sprang after Geth instantly. “Deneith!” called Singe, pushing his horse into a gallop, too.
Geth’s roar was less prosaic. “Follow us, you murdering bastards!” he screamed as he raced by the hunters, then pulled his horse around to flash past the dolgrims as well. “Follow us!” He plunged his horse into the forest along a path that Singe could barely see. Dandra, her voice shaking, vanished after him.
Singe turned in his saddle, waving the everbright lantern to be sure the hunters and the dolgrims had seen it. They had—they were charging across the battle-scarred common in a stream. Singe gave the fiery, bloody remains of Bull Hollow one last look, then turned back to bend low over his horse’s neck.
Dawn’s golden light found them riding across the bare slope of a hill. Dandra felt it wash over her back, warming her night-cooled skin. There were more hills around them, all blanketed in long grass and thorny-looking bushes. Further down the slope, thicker trees grew in abundance. If they’d ridden among them, they would have had cover from their pursuers. Dandra didn’t need to ask why they weren’t riding in the trees. She knew the answer.
Geth wanted to be sure they were seen.
Dandra clung to her horse in exhaustion. All of her reserves—physical and mental—were devoted to hanging on to the animal. Her arms ached and her legs burned. Her backside was so sore she was certain that she’d never walk upright again.
At least she would walk again. A vision of Bull Hollow flickered in front of her eyes. Burning houses, screaming people, silent bodies. Adolan, dead in Geth’s arms. The same vision had haunted her all night. A community had been destroyed because of her brief presence.
She raised her head look at Geth’s back. The shifter rode in front of her, guiding his horse with a light touch. He had held them to the same pace all night after their initial galloping flight from Bull Hollow—just fast enough to stay ahead of runners on foot, easy enough that the horses didn’t tire too much. He sat stiffly upright, constantly alert. He hadn’t looked at her or spoken a single word through all their long ride.
Singe was behind her. The wizard hadn’t spoken either, but she could feel his gaze on her back. It made her want to wither up in shame.
Survival is nothing to be ashamed of, Tetkashtai said. It’s why you’re here at all. The long, dark hours of the night and the knowledge that they were once more fleeing the Bonetree hunters rather than standing against them had finally calmed the presence. She was rational again—if not entirely forgiving. Her yellow-green light pulsed righteously. If you’d listened to me and left when I told you to, none of this would have happened.
You don’t know that, Dandra told her. The Bonetree clan are savages. They could have overrun Bull Hollow just looking for us.
You should have run when you had the chance. You could have made a clean escape.
Anger flared in Dandra’s belly. If you had worked with me instead of sulking, maybe I could have made a difference! She thrust another memory at Tetkashtai: hunters and dolgrims she should have been able to stop with fiery blasts, flames raging out of control that she should have been able to control with a thought. Without Tetkashtai’s cooperation, her powers had dwindled—
Your powers? Tetkashtai’s voice filled with disdain. You forget yourself! Without me, you’re little more than a warm body with a few tricks in your head. Without me, Dandra snapped, you’re a rock!
Coming from you, that’s almost amusing, Tetkashtai struck back with seething hatred. Give the crystal to Singe and we’ll see what happens.
A chill settled over Dandra. Tetkashtai sensed her apprehension. Are you afraid of what might happen, Dandra? she asked. Are you afraid that I might find another—?
Dandra wrenched her mind away. She couldn’t shut the presence out entirely, though, and Tetkashtai pulled at the edge of her consciousness. The presence was laughing at her, an edge of madness to her silent voice. Dandra sagged down in her saddle.
They passed around the hill and onto another, winding their way through wild valleys of astounding beauty. Where the folds of the hills dropped away to her right, Dandra could see dark mountains in the distance. The forests of the Eldeen Reaches were spread out to her left, a green sea that filled valleys and turned hilltops into islands. She found herself staring in spite of her exhaustion. In her flight from the Bonetree, she had been too busy watching the ground to enjoy the sweeping vistas of the wilderness.
The sun had climbed twice its own width above the horizon when Singe groaned, “Enough, Geth! I need to stop, at least for a little while.”
Dandra watched the shifter turn slowly in his saddle, surveying the land around them. The metal of his great gauntlet scraped as he flexed his arm. Dandra looked around as well, but could see nothing over the entire distance behind them. If the Bonetree hunters were back there, they were more stealthy than she would have believed possible. Finally, Geth nodded. Muttering a curse, Singe reined in his horse and dismounted to lurch a short distance away. He fumbled with his pants, then let out a tremendous sigh of relief. Dandra flushed and glanced away.
Her gaze met Geth’s. He was staring at her as he dismounted. She jerked without meaning to and her horse shifted in alarmed reaction. Dandra clutched at the reins. The horse just swung its head around to fix one dark eye on her.
“Get down.” Geth’s voice was harsh, the sudden sound of it startling.
Dandra’s eyes darted to him out of instinct. He wasn’t looking at her this time though. Squatting by his horse’s head, he stared out at the rugged horizon. There was a battered packet of what looked like dried meat in his hand. Thick fingers fished out a strip.
“Get down,” he said again. “This rest is for your horse more than it is you.” He stuffed the meat into his mouth.
Dandra felt blood rush to her face at the rebuke. She leaned forward and braced her hands on the front of the saddle, then swung her left leg back awkwardly. Her knees and hips were stiff. Moving was painful. Gritting her teeth, she got her leg around and slithered backward out of the saddle.
The instant she put her weight down on her aching legs, though, they started to fold under her. Dandra gasped and grabbed at the saddle, but her horse whinnied in alarm and danced sideways. She would have fallen if Singe hadn’t stepped up and caught her. She nodded silent thanks to him and steadied herself on her feet, feeling very much like a child.
“Have you never ridden before?” Singe asked.
“Not so hard or so long,” said Dandra. “I’m more used to walking.”
“Or floating?”
His words were raw. She flushed again. “Or floating,” she admitted.
She took a few tentative steps, rubbing her fingers into her muscles and stretching her legs. As she moved, she looked out at the landscape ahead. Hills, forest, and more hills—including one that bore a distinctive lopsided crest of white stone. Dandra glanced at Geth. The shifter was snapping at another piece of dried meat.
“I recognize that hill ahead,” she said. “I passed it on the south side two days ago.”
“And you’ll be passing it again on the north side before sunset,” Geth mumbled around the meat.
Dandra’s breath caught in her throat. “What?”
“You came this way, didn’t you? You came from the Shadow Marches? Well, you’re going back.”
What? screeched Tetkashtai. Back? We can’t go back there! Dandra, tell him—
Dandra pushed the raving presence away and swallowed hard. A long moment of silence passed, the only sound the rustle of a cool breeze in the grass. Finally, Dandra took a slow breath. “Geth,” she said softly, “I’m so sorry. Adolan was—”
Geth spun around so fast that Dandra barely even saw him rise to his feet. “Adolan was what?” the shifter roared, thrusting his face into hers. “What was Adolan to you? What was Bull Hollow to you? A place to stop? A place to hide?”
He bared his teeth and Dandra could feel the moist heat of his breath. His wide amber eyes stared into hers. His very presence was intimidating, as if he was some wild animal that had come leaping out of the trees to confront her. A primal fear seized her heart. Geth was an animal in every way: his teeth, his eyes, his flat nose, his dense hair, the thick muscles that corded his neck, shoulders, and arms.
“Geth …” she pleaded.
He lifted his right hand slowly, raising the hooked blades that stood out from the back of his gauntlet in front of her face. “By Tiger’s blood, I wish we had left you to those displacer beasts.”
His hand snapped down and he turned away. Dandra stood stiff in shock. Singe was standing nearby. She shot a frightened glance at him. He shook his head. “Don’t ask me.” The Aundairian’s mouth twisted. “Geth wasn’t the only one who lost someone at Bull Hollow.”
Dandra’s heart felt like it had been turned inside out. Geth asked the question that she wanted to. “Who?” he snapped from a distance. “Who did you lose?”
Singe gave the shifter a cold, flat look. “His name was Toller d’Deneith, Geth. We were recruiting. This was his first command.” He stood up a little straighter. “He was Robrand’s nephew. Do you know what House Deneith has done to the old man’s name since Narath?”
Dandra didn’t understand what Singe meant, but it was clear that Geth did. A look of haunted guilt flickered briefly in his eyes. Singe’s anger wasn’t spent though. The wizard turned to her.
“I thought I found Toller last night, but he was already dead,” he said harshly. “Hruucan killed him.” He held out an arm, tugging back a blood-stained sleeve so that Dandra could see the marks—fading a little now—where the dolgaunt’s skin had pressed against his. “These hurt. Toller was covered in marks even deeper. He must have died in agony.” Singe let his sleeve drop and looked up at her.
“You never told us how exactly you knew Hruucan’s name,” he said.
Geth growled and stood closer. “Or why a cult of the Dragon Below would want a random sacrifice back so badly they’d spend a month chasing her and be willing to destroy a hamlet in the process.” He lifted his gauntlet.
But through Tetkashtai’s light, Dandra could still see Bull Hollow and all of the people who had died because of her. She clenched her teeth and turned, putting her back to the two men. Tetkashtai’s voice rose in a shriek. Dandra! What are you doing?
What I have to do. Drawing a determined breath, Dandra twisted her arms over shoulders and pulled up her shirt to expose her back—and the deep puckered scars of the wounds that Hruucan’s foul tentacles had left on her skin.
Both Geth and Singe were silent.
She lowered her shirt and turned back to face them. “Will you let me show you something?” she asked.
Dandra!
“Be quiet, Tetkashtai,” Dandra hissed out loud. Before the presence could react, she pushed her thoughts outward. In her mind’s eye, Singe and Geth were like dark, tangled clouds. Dandra thrust herself into both clouds, catching at the men’s thoughts and binding them to her own.
The kesh was the simplest of powers, a gift that all kalashtar shared and that enabled them to touch the minds of others. Even with Tetkashtai struggling against her, trying to draw away as she had at the Bull Hole, Dandra felt the connection of the kesh surround her. She could sense both Geth and Singe resisting her, frightened by this sudden intrusion. She sent images of reassurance pulsing into their minds—then opened up her own mind to them.
Geth yelped and leaped away, swiping with his gauntlet at the glowing yellow-green presence that loomed around them. Singe stood still, perhaps as a wizard more used to telling the difference between what was and was not physically present. He couldn’t conceal his astonishment, however, as Tetkashtai flailed at her sudden exposure. Dandra held the presence’s angry screams of shame back from the thought-link.