Roberson, Jennifer - Cheysuli 05 (51 page)

           
"Not so far—" Hart panted.
"Almost there—" Stone parted beneath his boots even as he spoke. He
leaped, stumbled, staggered on, ignoring the angry gurgle.

           
Through the shadows Sleeta flowed like
watered silk on velvet. Brennan longed to go into the link, to reestablish the
communication he wanted so desperately, but such an attempt was futile so close
to the Gate. Here the Ihlini was paramount, so long as he worshiped the god.

           
Corin swore as a wave of steam
coated face and hands.

           
He slowed, halted, rubbed hastily at
stinging eyes. Tears rendered him incapable of seeing, and he dared not run
blind.

           
Kiri yapped, then nipped at his
ankles. And then he sensed the presence—'

           
"Corin—run!” Brennan cried.

           
He cleared his vision in time to see
a monstrous gryphon bearing down on him, stone beak agape. Beneath the hiss of
steam was the grate of stone on stone, and the yapping of his lir.

           
Corin twisted away, feeling the touch
of ensorcelled stone as a wing cruelly caressed his scalp. He saw his brothers
waiting, both poised to flee again. But their unwillingness to leave him
renewed his fading strength.

           
"—coming—" he gasped, and
ran.

           
And then, abruptly, could not.

           
He fell hard. Tried to rise. And
then knew what Strahan had done.

           
"My legs!" he cried.
"My legs—“

           
Jelly, Strahan had threatened. As
Corin lay sprawled on hot stone, trying in vain to rise, he knew the healing
had been recalled. There was no tremendous uprush of pain, no snapping of
brittle bones, merely a return to what they had been before he had committed
himself to the god. Nearly healed, but not completely; it left his bones
fragile and his muscles weakened by confinement in splints and linens.

           
Kiri licked at his face. A cool nose
nudged his neck and urged him desperately to rise. And then Hart and Brennan
were lifting him, dragging him, as the world caught fire around them.

           
"—not so far—" Hart
gasped, wrenching one-handed Corin's left arm across his shoulders.

           
"We will steal you from him
yet." Brennan told Corin firmly.

           
And even though they dragged his
feet, Corin shut his mouth on complaints.

           
Slowed by their burden. Hart and
Brennan had more difficulty avoiding the Seker's grotesque mimicry of lir.

           
None was especially mobile, being
rock instead of flesh, but the advantage lay in being impervious to fumes and
heat and flame. As Hart and Brennan slowed to negotiate the safest way with
Corin, the monstrous creatures advanced.

           
Corin shivered. "Cold," he
said. "—cold—"

           
Brennan's laugh was hoarse. "If
only winter were this cold—"

           
"Almost, rujho—" Brennan
gasped, "—nearly through the defile—"

           
"Look!" Hart exclaimed.
"Look above the opening!"

           
Brennan looked, saw the pristine
line of white wings against the darkness, and laughed hoarsely. "Did you
think Rael would leave?"

           
"—so long—" Hart croaked.

           
"Put me down—" Corin said.
"Down—down—down—"

           
"Almost there—" Brennan's
throat burned. "Nearly through—"

           
"Down!" Corin cried.

           
They carried him through the narrow
defile choked with steam and into a different world. This one too had suffered
the presence of Ihlini, but here the damage was less extensive. Instead of
stone there was soil, if thin and discolored in places. The trees were wracked
by wind and whim, roots bared to the elements, but they were wood instead of
stone, foliage in place of steam.

           
In Strahan's lair, it had been
summer. Here it was winter, and frost lay upon the ground,

           
"That tree," Brennan rasped,
and as they reached it carefully put Corin on the ground.

           
Almost immediately he tried to crawl
away from them, heading unerringly for the defile.

           
"Corin—wait—' Hart caught an
arm and was shocked at the rigidity of sinew beneath the flesh.
"Corin—"

           
"—go back—" Corin gasped,
"—go back—the Seker—"

           
More roughly than they intended, his
brothers dragged him back and forced him into place.

           
"Look at his eyes,"
Brennan said.

           
Hart shook his head as he saw the
shrunken pupils.

           
"The poison is not wholly
banished,"

           
Corin tried to draw up his legs, but
weakness and stiffness forbade it. "Gods—" he said,
"—oh—gods—"

           
"At least he calls on
ours," Brennan said dryly. "Hold him down. Hart."

           
"The farther from the Gate, the
safer he will be."

           
"No doubt. But we need to wrap
his legs—"

           
"We need to heal him,"
Hart said sharply. "But this close to Valgaard, I doubt we can summon the
magic."

           
Corin shuddered beneath their hands.
"—burning—" he muttered. "—burning—"

           
Above them, Rael shrieked in
agitation.

           
"Whole legs or broken, we
go," Brennan said firmly; together they hoisted Corin up again.

           
Distance closed the defile. With
each step they left behind the field of smoke and stone, the brooding, glassy
fortress and the Gate of the netherworld. Stars shone more brightly. The moon
was freed from smoke and steam and painted a pathway for them.

           
"—down—" Corin begged.

           
"Not yet," Brennan told
him through gritted teeth.

           
"Not until we put more distance
between you and Valgaard."

           
"The Seker—the Seker—"
Corin shuddered in their grasp.

           
"Beat him off," Hart
ordered succinctly. "Somewhere in that Homanan fleshed body is the Old
Blood, Corin ... as much as in Brennan or me. Call on it. Use it—'

           
He tripped, cursed, bit his lip
against the pain in the stump of his arm.

           
And then, abruptly, the lir-links
came blazing back into life, and all of them cried out.

           
"Down—" Brennan gasped,
and they put Corin down as gently as they could. At once, Kiri pressed her
muzzle into his throat. As Brennan opened his arms to Sleeta, he saw
comprehension creep back into Corin's eyes.

           
Even as his twin knelt to grasp
Sleeta against his chest, Hart rose. He moved away from his brothers, clearing
the tangle of arms and legs and lir, and thrust both arms into the air. From
out of the darkness came the white hawk he called Rael.

           
Lir—lir—oh, gods. Rael—Hart
discovered an uncommon incoherence, even within the link. Rael—Rael—Rael—

           
Shansu, the hawk soothed. Shansu, my
lir . . . my proud, brave warrior. Do you see? Do you see? Hart appealed. The
Ihiini has ruined me—

           
Rael soared closer yet. I see
strength and pride and an unrelenting determination to withstand the arts
ofAsar-Suti.

           
Ruined, lir—

           
Shansu, the hawk soothed. Oh, lir,
it has been so long—And he settled briefly, with infinite gentleness, on the
handless, outthrust arm. He touched his hooked beak to Hart's shoulder, eyes
alight, then lifted from flesh to seek the air again, saying nothing about
Hart's tears.

           
On the ground, Brennan's arms were
filled with cat.

           
Bare flesh felt the dry texture of
her pelt, fingers touched protuding ribs beneath taut flesh, eyes sought the
truth in her own.

           
Sleeta, he began, intending to
question her, and then put away words to lose himself in the renewal of the
link.

           
There was no need to ask her
anything, all was present for him to discern through the thing that bound them.
He knew fear and pain, anguish and anger, the pride that made her so strong.

           
All is well, she said. All is well,
lir.

           
She was heavy, so heavy, though
lacking her normal weight. Gently, she set her teeth against cheek and jaw and
nibbled, more catlike than was common. One huge paw patted a thigh, the other
kneaded a hip.

           
"Leifhana tu'sai" Brennan
whispered. And could not say if he intended the thanks for Sleeta or the gods.

           
On the ground, Corin writhed. His
bones were alive with fire.

           
Lir, Kiri said, try harder to
overcome it.

           
He thrashed, and his legs spasmed.
The Seker—he said. The Gate…

           
Think of me instead.

           
—burning— In the link, he felt her
strength. Gods, Kiri—it burns—He hitched himself up on one arm, meaning to
reach for her. Without warning, he vomited.

           
Abruptly, Brennan and Hart
discontinued greetings to lir and turned to their brother again.

           
"We are too close," Hart
said anxiously.

           
"Then send Rael to seek out
safety, some place we can settle him until this crisis passes." Brennan's
tone was sharp. "There is no opportunity for us to heal him until we have found
proper refuge."

           
Instantly Hart went into the link.
We need a place of safety, he said. Some place Strahan has no power to find us.

           
Done. Rael said, and soared eastward
toward the
Molon
Pass.

           
"Shansu," Brennan told
Corin. "I promise, rujho, Strahan will not win."

           
Hart felt Corin's brow. "Nor
his malodorous god."

           
Corin's breathing was labored.
"I thought if I made myself vomit the blood ... I could win . . . could
overcome the power—" He grimaced from unseen pain, baring teeth shut
tightly. "Strahan wanted you so badly . . . I thought if I acted like he
had won, if I tricked him, I could find a means to escape—" His head
thrashed against the earth until Brennan trapped it and held it still. "I
knew if I drank again, I would be truly lost—" Teeth bit into bottom lip.
"I needed to know a way out ... I let him think he had won, so he would
show me—show me a hidden exit—" He spasmed. "Oh, gods, it
hurts!"

           
"Hold your silence,"
Brennan told him gently, "There will be time for this later."

           
Corin's eyes were transfixed on
Brennan's face. "But—you have to know ... I do love Aileen!" His
mouth warped into a rigid rictus of pain. "I do want her, Brennan . . .
Strahan found my weakness."

           
"And uncovered your
strength." Brennan's face was stark, though his tone reflected none of it.
"There are things all of us want. Corin, even against our wills. Much of
Strahan's power is that which we give him ... he lets us make our own guilt,
instead of forcing it on us."

           
"And I did want the Lion. ..
long as I can remember—"

           
"Corin." Brennan bent
close. "I swear, it does not matter. Do you think I could hate you for it
after what you have done for us?"

           
“I could." Corin tried to
smile. "In your place, I could. But now—now, I think ... I think there
will be no place for me—"

           
Hart caught his rigid hand. "Do
not give in now.'"

           
"So tired," Corin
murmured.