Chasers of the Wind (23 page)

“You’re such a clever fellow!” I snorted contemptuously. “Why don’t you tell us the secret of how we do that?”

At my words, he immediately snapped back, “Run along the street. Just when they’re about to fill you full of holes, your woman can whip up some terrible spell.”

I had the strongest urge to push the little bastard away from the wall and into the opening between the houses. I’d be happy to let the Burnt Souls shoot him.

It’s the only way out
. Layen’s voice resounded in my head.

Are you serious?

I can feel
him
approaching. We have to take a risk or it won’t matter at all. Will you help me?

I didn’t waver for a second.

“What do you need me to do?”

*   *   *

“It seems that our friends got themselves into trouble,” said Ga-Nor meditatively.

Luk nodded quickly in agreement and then, realizing that the northerner was not looking at him but at the window, he swallowed convulsively. The soldier was shuddering fearfully because of the Burnt Souls. Those creatures were even worse than the walking dead, and they weren’t nearly as easy to dispose of.

“Hey! You aren’t about to go and help them out, are you?” It had suddenly occurred to the soldier that his friend was about to rush to the aid of the people who’d gotten themselves in hot water.

The Son of the Snow Leopard looked Luk in the eyes and reluctantly shook his head.

“No. Of course not. That would be suicide.”

*   *   *

“Damn.… If we stay here, we’ll be overrun by a whole pack of Nabatorians. We don’t have enough bolts and arrows for that.”

He was right. All too soon our enemies would turn up to help the Burnt Souls. We could forget about reaching the forest then. We wouldn’t even make it to the local cemetery.

“I can cast three or four more spells,” whispered Layen. “There’s almost no time left.”

“Are you ready?” I asked her.

“Yes. On the count of three. One! Two!—”

“What are you going to do?” asked Shen suspiciously.

“Three!” she finished.

I had complete faith in her and her abilities, so I didn’t hesitate for a second and rushed out from the protection of the walls into open space. A spell slipped from the head of the staff and struck the gravel near my feet. A dusty shield shivered in the air, which trapped the arrows of the Burnt Souls. If Layen had been a moment late, I would have been a goner.

The magical shield protected me from the arrows so I weaved like a rabbit, dashing around the street, trying to make it so that the archers didn’t lose sight of me for a second. While the Burnt Souls were distracted by me, Layen had time to cast another spell.

*   *   *

Tia saw the woman the moment she stepped out from behind the corner of the house and raised the khilss. The Shay-za’ns were raining down arrows at a blond man who was darting about the street, instead of sending an arrow at her legs. The aura of the Arms of Dust was shimmering around the man. The fools! Did they really not notice that all their efforts were in vain? There was no way the arrows could pierce that shield.

The bitch was smart. When she bound her, she’d have to ask who taught her such a spell. It was Death magic; the Walkers knew nothing of it. Who could her teacher have been? Not taking her eyes off the woman, the Damned began to weave a spell of binding. It was supposed to cut the woman off from her Gift and bind her arms and legs.

She sensed the explosion of power at the very moment when her spell was ready to leave her fingers. The air crackled with magic, dark blue sparks scintillated in the Damned’s hair and disappeared, and then there was a bang so loud that she bit her tongue in surprise.

In the place where the Shay-za’ns had been standing there was now a tight-knit, blue-black tornado of sand. Sha-to and his brother had been spun about and ripped into thousands of tiny pieces.

Fool! Idiot! Amateur! Upstart! Why would she use such a powerful spell and waste so much of her strength just to kill two? It was like wielding a hammer to kill fleas! She really didn’t have any sense! The thoughtless, incompetent bitch!

Typhoid frowned darkly, and in the next instant the curse fled from her fingers.

*   *   *

Luk yelped fearfully at the thunderclap that roared out of the clear sky and then rubbed his eyes, not believing what he was seeing. Nothing changed. The magenta whirlwind continued to rage between the houses.

“Here comes the necromancer!” predicted the guard.

“You’re wrong.” Ga-Nor was more observant than his comrade. “It was that peasant woman.”

“A Damned!” gasped Luk.

“Or a Walker. Either way, it’s nothing to do with us. Get ready.”

“What, right now?” he asked in a stunned voice, but he obediently stood up.

“You can wait until they destroy the mill.” It was unclear if the tracker was seriously suggesting that, or if he was joking. “But I’ve recently grown quite fond of the forest.”

“Me too, screw a toad!” said Luk hurriedly, as if he was afraid he’d be left behind.

They rolled the millstone away from the trapdoor and jumped down. No one stopped them or even noticed them. The mill was running but it was empty. All the locals had run away as soon as things had become dangerous.

Without looking back, totally unconcerned with the events unfolding behind them, the scout and the guard negotiated the open space of a fallow field covered in tall grass and found their way into the welcoming arms of the forest.

*   *   *

When the whirlwind dissipated, I saw a girl, surrounded by five Nabatorians in black armor, moving toward us with resolute steps. Dealing with those warriors in close quarters was out of the question. They had shields, swords, and heavy armor. They’d chop us into pieces if we didn’t pick them off first.

Then the staff roared nastily and triumphantly. Layen shrieked shrilly and threw it away from her as if she’d been burned. But it didn’t help. Her arms, from the tips of her fingers to her shoulders, were covered in a purple nimbus.

With a cry of despair and pain, my sun fell to the ground. The nimbus was now only covering her wrists and it had taken on a shape that closely resembled shackles. I rushed over to help her, but she cried out to me, “Keep away! It’s not a
him
! It’s
her
!”

I’ve never had any complaints about my intuition, and I realized right away that the trouble was coming from the Nabatorians’ companion. The purple magic was the work of her hands. Without thought, I tore an arrow from my quiver, stretched the bowstring, and shot. Two of the men in black shifted their triangular shields, protecting the girl from harm. I cursed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Midge and Bamut weren’t even thinking of helping. They flew past me and ran for the forest with all their might.

*   *   *

Tia had not thought it would be so easy to bind the bitch. Up until the very moment when the curse struck her through the khilss, the fool did not suspect what was about to happen. She didn’t put up any opposition. Either she didn’t have enough strength, or she hadn’t gotten around to learning about it. The curse, worked through the staff she’d cast away from her, held her firmly. But the Damned didn’t even consider relaxing her grip. In the first place, she did not for a second forget that the girl-prodigy in front of her had a very powerful natural spark. Secondly, Typhoid was still expecting a trick. She was having difficulty dismissing the idea that this was all some trap of the Walkers. Only when the magical chains appeared on the thin wrists of the blue-eyed peasant woman did Tia breathe a sigh of relief.

It worked! Now the girl was in her grasp!

The two guards walking in front of the Damned interlocked their shields. An arrow struck them with a dull thud. Typhoid flinched in surprise. All her thoughts were so focused on her opponent that she completely forgot to consider other perils. If not for her bodyguards, that which Tia had avoided with so much success these past few centuries might have happened. The unknown archer was far from shy, and he’d almost succeeded in exploiting the situation to his advantage.

Tia was about to take care of the impudent fellow, but then a young man ran to the staff, which was lying on the ground.

*   *   *

When Midge and Bamut ran off, I completely forgot about the healer. I dismissed him, thinking that he was likely to be as useful as milk from a male goat. So when Shen appeared out of nowhere and jumped into the street and raised up the staff Layen had cast aside, I lost the power of speech.

Just as it had done earlier, the skull melted and took on a new form. The lad, as white as chalk, quickly pointed the staff toward the woman who had attacked Layen and, carefully enunciating the sounds, shouted the very same phrase I had already heard from my sun.

“Rragon-rro!”

The skull emitted an entirely human howl of pain, and our foes were struck by an incandescent white lance of light.

*   *   *

The boy’s behavior was strange. What did he hope to achieve by grabbing the khilss? She couldn’t even feel the smallest hint of the spark in the boy.

But when the staff read its new master and changed its shape, Tia didn’t have enough time to be astonished. She instantly shifted part of her power to a shield, thrown up to meet the other’s spell. In the next second, bright light surrounded her.

Pain surged through every part of her body, forcing her to curl into a ball and let out a hoarse, animalistic bellow of torment.

*   *   *

The ground shuddered intensely under our feet. Multicolored spots floated before my eyes.

Shen was standing in the same spot, but the necromancer’s staff no longer existed. It had broken apart, dissolved into black flakes, which were instantly taken up by a light breeze and playfully carried along the street. Layen was no longer screaming. The purple light on her wrists had gone out and she was trying to stand. I rushed over to her, grabbed her, and set her on her feet. She was trembling intensely, her teeth were clicking, and an unhealthy flush covered her cheeks. She was repeating one word over and over.

“Healer … Healer…”

“Can you walk?”

For a moment my sun looked at me, not grasping what I wanted from her; then she nodded. She walked several steps on shaky legs and nearly fell.

“I’ll help!” Shen appeared at her side and supported her.

The lad was streaming with sweat. Blood was dripping from his nose. His light blue eyes were bloodshot. But he was still standing firmly, and his strength was undiminished. I handed Layen to him.

“To the forest! Come on!”

He easily lifted her over his shoulder and carried her toward the bridge.

Three of the five Nabatorians were dead. One was screaming continuously. Another was shifting about listlessly. The spell had hit them straight on and even the ground around them was pitted.

The girl had caught the worst of it. Her hair was burnt off. All that remained of her face after the miraculous fire was a mass of bloodstained flesh. Her left forearm was missing, and she was clenching the stump with her right hand, trying to stop the flow of blood. And still, despite her appalling wounds, the woman was trying to get to her feet.

I didn’t give her the chance and ruthlessly shot at the viper, planting three arrows in her. The first hit her on the right side of her chest and caused her to fall back to the ground. The second struck her side. The third, her neck. I don’t know who she was, but she died just like regular people do.

Pork, who’d been crouching all this time behind an outdoor well, began to wail mournfully. I paid him no heed as I turned and ran to catch up with Shen and Layen, who were already on the other side of the river.

*   *   *

Captain Gry was brought back to consciousness by the endless screams of Lye.

“There now, buck up, my boy,” whispered the captain of the guards through split lips. “There now.”

The wounded man didn’t heed him and continued to wail.

Overcoming the pain, Gry scrambled to his knees and groaned. His right arm was burned like he’d stuck it into a brazier full of hot coals. The blood flowing down from under his helmet got into his eyes, but he could still see well enough to make out the wound. He could forget about ever carrying a sword again. His thumb and index fingers were missing.

Gry tore a piece of what had once been clothes from the bloody thing lying next to him and improvised a field dressing for the wound. Lye finally stopped screaming. He was dead. The Nabatorian looked around, continuously wiping blood off his face. It was all over. He was the only one who survived the Walker’s attack. His comrades and his lady were dead.

The lady was dead.

He couldn’t believe it. It was beyond his comprehension. Gry had never thought that those who were called the Damned by the inhabitants of this country could die. But she lay before him, broken and bloody. And the three arrows that bristled out of her body were a silent reproach to him.

He’d failed. He couldn’t protect her. He had betrayed the honor entrusted to him. He had disgraced his family.

On the very edge of his consciousness, which was blazing with pain, the Nabatorian noticed that someone was moving nearby. The hearty fellow with the face of an idiot, the one who had followed them from the inn, got up to his feet. He walked over to the Nabatorian and said with an intonation so well known to him, “You executed your duties poorly, Gry.”

The wounded man flinched, raised his head, and groaned in fear when he saw the lad’s eyes. They were absolutely white. Sightless. A sepulchral flame seemed to burn in them. And that lightly mocking and familiar tone of voice. Only one person dared to speak to the King’s Guard that way.

“It … it isn’t possible,” whispered Gry. “I don’t believe it … my lady…”

Tia’s gaze did not bode well.

10

The first time we came to a halt, Shen punched Midge in the face for running off and taking Bamut with him. To my surprise, the runt did not hit back. It seemed that for the time being he had decided to stay out of any scuffles, since he didn’t have the upper hand. And Layen and I were not too fond of the degenerate.