Witchlanders (34 page)

Ooomph!
Something cracked him on the temple and sent him flying onto the rocks. He sat up, dazed, clutching his head. Visser, holding a thick log, stood over him.

“Visser, stop!” he cried, his ears ringing with the blow.
He glanced over to Ryder for help, but he had Lilla by the wrists and was dragging her away toward the entrance to the caves. Falpian got to his knees and scrambled over the rocks in the opposite direction, his eye on Visser all the while. He made it out onto the ice, letting out a strangled cry as he slid into one of the motionless gormy men. Visser raised the weapon again.

“Don't!” he yelled. He shielded his head with his hands as the blow came down hard onto his right arm. He yelped in pain and got onto all fours, fighting to get up, but he slipped again and again on the ice. Visser raised the log for a third time.

Then there was another cracking sound and Visser went down hard. Her forehead smacked the ice. A girl stood behind her holding a stone. It was Skyla.

“Oh Goddess,” she said, her voice raw, “did I kill her?” Her eyes darted fearfully to the silent white creatures all around her, but still they didn't move.

Falpian crept toward Visser. There was blood on the ice. “I don't know,” he said gravely, looking up at Skyla.

“Tell me my brother was right about you,” Skyla demanded. She looked at the stone in her hand and threw it away in disgust. “Tell me I did the right thing and that you're not here to kill us all!”

Falpian opened his mouth to answer, and a sudden pain exploded through his body. For a moment his vision
turned to specks and all he knew was pain—hot, searing pain that seemed to be melting the bones in his left thigh. He realized he was screaming.

“What's wrong?” Skyla cried in alarm. “What's wrong with you?”

Falpian looked down at his legs, expecting to see blood. But there was nothing. Nothing at all. This was Ryder's pain.

He gave an anguished cry and pointed. Behind Skyla, Lilla was climbing back up onto the island. And farther away near the frozen waterfall, Ryder's crumpled form lay motionless on the ice.

CHAPTER 26
THE GORMY MAN

“She got my knife,” Ryder mumbled. A new song of Lilla's was screeching in his ears.

“He's alive!” said Skyla, breathless.

Ryder was on his back, looking up at the bare branches of trees, at a stained and blotchy sky that seemed to churn dizzily and grow darker as he watched. From his right leg, waves of pain radiated, horrible pain—so bad it seemed to blend with Lilla's song.

With difficulty, he lifted his head. They were in the trees at the side of the lake. Someone must have dragged him here, but he couldn't remember it. Skyla and Falpian knelt on either side of him. Visser sat nearby, her knees to her chest, holding a handful of snow to her head. Through the trunks of the trees, he could see Lilla singing, but she was alone.

“Where are the gormy men?”

“Gone,” said Skyla. “Lilla made them scatter a few moments ago. Some went up the mountain, some down.”

Pima. “Oh Goddess, we've got to stop them! Lilla knows the witches are in the caves, and the snowslide won't stop those things. She's sent them to attack!” Ryder tried to get up, but the pain in his leg overwhelmed him. “I just need a moment,” he gasped. “She stabbed me. A dagger.”

“No need to tell us about it,” said Falpian. “It's still there.”

Ryder raised himself up on his elbows. The hilt of the dagger protruded from his thigh. Around his leg, blood seeped into the snow in a widening blossom.

“Aata's breath,” he said. “All right. Give me a stick or something to bite, and then pull it out quick.”

“I don't think we can,” Skyla told him, peering closely at his leg. “It's too deep—you'd bleed too much. We're just going to have to wrap it up and get you down to the village.” She began to unwind the sash of her reds.

“No!” Ryder argued. “We've got to fight or there won't be a village to go to.” A crack of thunder split the air, making him start. “What in Aata . . . ?” There were no thunderstorms in winter.

He looked up at the sky again and saw that the chilling clouds were thick and bloodstained—a deep red turning to black. They seemed to be gathering right over Lilla's head.

“What is she doing?”

Falpian stared at Lilla in alarm. “There were a lot of spells written in the caves—who knows what she can do?”

Crying out, Ryder struggled to his feet. “Give me a sword, a stick, anything—she's got to be stopped.”

“Hold still!” Skyla ordered. She bent over Ryder's leg and began to tie up his wound with the sash of her reds, leaving the knife protruding from his thigh.

“Think, Ryder,” Falpian said, taking hold of his arm to keep him from falling. “Back at Stonehouse, I could have stopped your heart with just a humming stone—she could kill you a hundred ways before you get to that island. We've got to sing.”

Ryder shook his head. “I can't. I don't know how we even did it the first time. It was some kind of . . . accident.”

“Why do you deny it?” Falpian was shouting now, his face close up to Ryder's. “You're a singer. Do you know how rare this is?”

“I said, hold still!” Skyla yelled. She yanked the two ends of her makeshift bandage into a knot and stood up. Both Ryder and Falpian winced in pain.

“I don't want to be a singer!” Ryder snapped. “And I don't want to be your brother under the skin or whatever it is. I didn't ask for this.”

“Do you think I asked to have some Witchlander oaf for my talat-sa?” Falpian said. He gripped his own thigh in the same place where Ryder was wounded.
“The nephew of Lilla the Blood-Smeared, of all people? I could have
killed
you just now! I betrayed my people when I didn't.”

“That reminds me,” Ryder said. He swung his fist at Falpian, but the blow only glanced off the Baen's jaw.

“Arhh!” Falpian clutched his face. “What was that for? I said I
didn't
betray you!”

“I know how close you came.”

“Are the two of you out of your minds?” Skyla shrieked, coming between them.

“Just give me a sword and I'll run her through,” Ryder insisted. “I'll die out there. I'll get my spine snapped by one of her monsters. I don't care! Just give me a sword!”

Falpian lowered his voice, and his face softened. “A sword is not the weapon the God has given you.”

“The Goddess,” Skyla corrected. “But he's right.” She reached for her brother's cheek. “Ryder, Lilla thinks your gift was wasted because you never learned to throw the bones. She should know better—she's seen the tomb of Aayse—but she doesn't. She's not expecting you to be able to sing, and she's certainly not expecting Falpian to join you. It's the only weapon we've got. But we're running out of time!”

Ryder looked to the churning red-black sky and suddenly felt afraid. Even if he did sing, how could his voice penetrate that horrible screeching music that was pouring
out of Lilla's mouth?
I can't do it,
he thought. But what he said was, “Yes. All right. Let's try.”

He told Skyla to take Visser and make their way to safety inside the caves.

“I won't leave you,” Skyla started.

“Get Pima,” Ryder begged her. “Make sure Pima's safe. Visser will know the way.”

Skyla gave him one last look, then ran to Visser and pulled her to her feet. When Ryder finally saw them disappear into the rocks, he nodded at Falpian, and together they crept toward the edge of the lake.

“As soon as she hears us singing, she'll know we're a threat,” Falpian warned. “She'll try to kill us where we stand.”

“Wonderful.”

Ryder leaned against a tree, trying to ignore the pain. He wasn't aware of the precise moment when he started to sing, only knew that his voice followed Falpian's into song as if on its own. Pictures from his own life and his friend's began to swim before him: Mabis and Farien, Pima and the Baen girls from his dreams. Falpian was by his side, lips moving. Still, their song was blotted out by Lilla's.

A thick snow was swirling down now from the clouds above Lilla's head. Falpian gripped his arm, and Ryder knew they had to sing hard or die. He didn't try to ignore his pain anymore, but felt it instead, sang it into his song.

The world came into sharp focus, and Ryder's vision expanded like a bubble, encompassing more and more. He could see the fish sleeping under the lake. He could see the seeds sleeping under the snow. The world hummed with music, was made of music, just as the Baen believed. Every rock and tree on the mountain was bleeding song.
This is what I am, isn't it?
Ryder thought.
I'm not a farmer. I'm not a sailor. I am this.
He felt his song grow stronger, and Lilla's head snapped up.

Go for Lilla first.
Falpian's thoughts were clear, and Ryder understood their logic; they should attack Lilla first, and then worry about the gormy men. But Falpian didn't have a little sister in the caves, small and vulnerable, wondering why her family had abandoned her. Ryder could see the creatures now. He saw the whole mountain from high above. It would be easy. The monsters were meant to obey a singer's orders.
Come here,
he commanded.
Come back
.

Something struck his body like a blow, and he was thrown backward. Ryder rolled over onto the ground, fighting for air, his singing stopped. Lilla faced them now from the security of her tiny island. The snow in front of her was whirling down, whirling down, but it never seemed to reach the ground. Ryder tried to take a breath and sing again, but something had stopped his throat; there were cold fingers around his heart, squeezing.

Falpian was still singing, but his song was much
different now. Ryder could see him running from spot to spot, trying a note and moving on. Ryder thought he understood. The little island was the best place to sing from, but it wasn't the only place. Ryder clutched at the ache in his chest. He tried to haul himself, but he could barely move now.

Suddenly a sharp sound came ricocheting off the cliffs, and Lilla fell to her knees as if pushed. Falpian had found the right spot. The pressure in Ryder's chest subsided and he breathed deeply, the cold air like needles in his lungs. He crawled toward Falpian, leaving a trail of smeared blood on the ice. The next thing he knew, Falpian was pulling him to his feet.

“What can we do?” Ryder cried. “She's too strong!”

“Sing!”

Ryder took a breath and tried, but his voice was barely a whimper. Despite the frigid air, sweat streamed down his face. Lilla was up and singing again. The sounds were vile, an abomination. Suddenly Ryder knew what she was doing.

“Does that look like . . . ,” he began, pointing at the column of snow that towered above them. They watched in horror as it twisted and bulged. Two long strands detached themselves from the body, and far above them, the top of the column resolved itself into a blank and pitiless face. The other creatures were tiny by comparison. They were
not gormy men. No. This was his mother's nightmare. This. This was the Gormy Man.

The creature stretched out its long arms to the air. It tightened one rough fist, then another, as if to test its newborn body. Behind it Lilla collapsed, folding into the snow—her spell was finished. Suddenly Ryder felt himself moving, sliding out toward the great creature. Desperately he clawed the ice with his fingers, but couldn't get a hold. He grabbed Falpian's arm, but his friend was moving too. The creature was attracting them, pulling them near as if it were a magnet and they were flakes of iron.

“Watch out!” Ryder called.

A great tree by the side of the lake had uprooted itself and went careening over the ice toward the creature, dirt trailing behind its huge root. Ryder and Falpian dove out of the way. The thing reached out to it, and the tree became a part of its great snow arm. All around the lake, the tops of trees were bending toward it, quivering with attraction. Snow and debris came hurtling from all sides. Impossibly, the Gormy Man was getting even bigger.

“Look!” Falpian said. At the other side of the lake, the smaller gormy men were returning, emerging from the trees.

“It's no use,” Ryder said. “We can't fight them all.” A log was sticking up out of the ice, and he grabbed hold of it. Falpian held his hand in a tight grip, but Ryder could feel his glove starting to pull off.

“No,” Falpian said. “They're here because you called them. We can command them. We can use the smaller ones to fight . . . that!”

Aata's vow,
Ryder thought. He couldn't sing again, couldn't. He glanced at his leg—it was dark with blood. But when Falpian started, he took a deep breath. As he began, the thought that he might not live through the day came rushing toward him. He was dying. Life was coming out a hole in his leg. Somehow this gave him the strength he needed, because there was no need to hold anything back. It would all be over soon. He would be over soon.