Etchings of Power (Aegis of the Gods) (8 page)

Careful not to touch the trunks, he slipped through an open space between the trees. The putrid smell of decay and moldy fur as if he stood inside a mismanaged dog kennel grew to choking proportions. As he entered, a lapra howled from Sakari’s direction. Ryne turned to go back when the sight of what lay in the middle of the area caught his eye. His hands coiled into fists.

The eight missing villagers, their bodies black and purple, lay among festering roots and rotten kinai fruit. Fleshy tendrils connected them all together in a mass that vibrated with a beating heart’s rhythm. The men and women’s chests rose and fell slowly.

Beside them were four beasts joined in the same fashion.

The creatures appeared to have been lapras at one time, but their snouts were now more elongated like a wolf’s. Their mouths lolled, revealing rows of sharp teeth. The middle legs were almost fully withdrawn into their torsos. They were each at least seven feet in length. Muscles rippled beneath ebony skin and fur.

Memories of similar creatures before and during the War of Remnants surfaced within Ryne.
Wraithwolves?
He frowned even as the thought brought a chill crawling along his back.
Is someone or something attempting to create the beasts? But that’s supposed to be impossible in this realm. They must be what’s left of the host from the war. If so, how did they cross the Rotted Forest without triggering my wards?

Ryne sucked in a breath at the auras around the shadelings. They were the same as the one he saw around the Alzari. He remembered where he saw them before.

Amuni’s Children.

The realization led to several conclusions. These particular Alzari must have given themselves to the shade. They had to be protecting these shadelings for Amuni’s Children not fleeing as he first thought. Which meant the Children had indeed breached his wards, crossed the Rot from the lands beyond, and were somewhere within Ostania.

Ryne drew his sword.

“Use our power,”
hissed the deep voice.
“It’s the only way to be sure.”

The other, opposing sentience remained silent.

Ryne’s Scripts thrummed to life, and Mater surged through him. His bloodlust triggered, and he didn’t subdue the feeling.

CHAPTER 6

Irmina hunkered down among the branches and leaves, staring slack-jawed. Below her, the fight between the giant’s bodyguard and the lapras raged. These particular ones were normal in size, only about three feet across. They’d attacked as soon as the giant disappeared among the strange black trees.

Silvereyes danced among the lapras, always keeping himself between the closest one and Kahkon. The man’s movements were a blur of inhuman speed.

At first, the creatures had tried to dart in and snatch at the boys legs, but once they realized those efforts were futile, they resorted to attacking the Ostanian. Jaws dripping, lapras snapped and snarled as they pounced, their dark fur made darker by the waning light. Each one that sprang in fell to the ground. Wounded animals struggled to their feet to limp back among the trees. Yet, the creatures continued to pour from the forest’s dark recesses.

The bodyguard moved like a snake, his arm flickering as if he and his sword were one. Not once did he harm any beast more than to maim it with a precise slice to render it harmless. Numerous wounds scoured his armor from slashing claws and snapping teeth, tallying up with the other older scratches and nicks to leave his leathers a bloody mess. But not one lapra passed him. If she was not seeing it with her own eyes, Irmina wouldn’t have believed one person could hold off this many beasts.

With the back of her hand, Irmina flicked the salty sting of sweat from her eyes. Frowning, she stared from the wetness on her hand to Silvereyes. Where she was covered in perspiration from the day’s heat, no such sheen reflected from his face. The man didn’t appear fatigued, much less bothered by his injuries. Who or better yet, what was he?

Irmina winced each time his sword met flesh and at the yelps and plaintive cries that followed. She hadn’t meant for this to happen. When she tamed the leader of one of the lapra packs, she’d only intended on keeping the giant man off her. Somehow, the animal had broken from her control while calling to other packs and everything went terribly wrong. She’d tried in vain to touch the beast’s mind again, but it was as if a dark cloud hung within the creature’s head, preventing her from making any connection. Her efforts were met with the same intense resistance as when she attempted to force the infected lapra off Kahkon.

The only other time she failed to tame a beast was when she attempted to control Charra. The daggerpaw’s mind was a vise she couldn’t touch much less pry open. Thinking about Charra made thoughts of Ancel bloom fresh in her mind. She suppressed the memories and the longing they brought and focused on the events below.

Gradually, the beasts’ attacks lessened until they stalked around the boy and Silvereyes in a wide circle. The bodyguard’s armor, dark with his and lapra blood, hung in tatters in some places, but he still appeared unaffected by his wounds. Not even his chest rose and fell with the heavy breaths of exertion. He cocked his head to one side as if listening.

Hair rose at the back of Irmina’s neck, her shoulders tensed, and a prickle eased up her spine.

Silvereyes whirled to face the copse of trees into which the giant had disappeared.

Blistering waves like an open furnace struck Irmina. The blast of scalding air snapped her head around and forced her to hold her face away from the heated backwash. Snatching frantically at a branch, she just managed to prevent herself from falling headfirst.

A bellow echoed in a voice to challenge thunder.

When she was finally able to face the copse, Irmina stared, her jaw unhinged. Flames licked out from amongst the blackened woods. Branches snapping, the great trees yawed, then toppled to the ground. Luminescence as blinding as the noonday sun forced her to snap her eyes shut. Bright spots still dancing before her eyes, she pried her eyes open to gaze at what was left of the stand and gasped.

Distorted by heated waves, a giant form stood swathed in white light and surrounded by fire.

A voice cried out.

Irmina’s head whipped around toward the sound.

Silvereyes swayed before he dropped to one knee, his hands gripping his head as violent throes wracked his body. He fell face first, his head at an angle where she could still see his eyes.

A mind touched hers—a mind with a similar feel as when she communed with beasts. She locked gazes with Silvereyes.

For the first time, she saw his eyes in detail. Silver flecks dominated where there should have been white, and his irises glowed green. As she watched, they changed, becoming deep pools of obsidian like ink dropped on a pristine, white canvas. A feeling as if she would drown in their depths sucked at her. She thought she saw the man’s lips twitch before he crawled onto his knees.

Breaths coming hard and fast, her chest heaving, she clawed her gaze away and forced back the touch probing her mind. She noticed then the lapras had scattered to parts unknown and what little remained of the black cluster of trees.

From what was now a clearing within the woods, strode the giant, fires petering out behind him. When he reached his bodyguard, he hauled him to his feet. A few words passed between them.

Something about the smaller man seemed off, but she couldn’t quite place it. Sifting through jumbled thoughts, she scoured the recollection of the fight before she sucked in her breath, her hand covering her mouth.

Silvereyes’ armor was not only whole and seamless once more, but he no longer bore so much as a scratch.

Irmina shimmied down the trunk as fast as she could and sneaked away to put more distance between her and them as the men set about cutting down a few branches. When she felt more secure, she stopped to watch.

They’d constructed a litter. The giant picked up Kahkon, laid him gingerly on its surface, then stepped away. The bodyguard took his place. He rubbed something over the boy’s wounds causing the youth to shudder.

Irmina continued to follow their movements while they worked on the boy. Time passed and clouds scudded across the heavens as the deep oranges and purples of the twilight sky dwindled to a slate blanket. Seemingly finished, the two men waited a few moments, peering into the undergrowth at the sounds of rustles and crashing branches. A lamp sparked to life in Ryne’s hand. After a final look in her direction, they picked up Kahkon and made their way through the forest.

Ryne kept an eye on Kahkon. With each of the boy’s whimpers and ragged breaths, Ryne’s fist clenched tighter where he held the makeshift litter carrying Kahkon’s broken and bruised body. Moans escaped Kahkon’s lips followed by painful gasps and cries as they worked their way through a particularly rough part of the woods. A moment later, the boy fell into a feverish bout filled with coughs and unintelligible mutters, bloody spittle bubbling from his lips.

“Tend to him, Sakari,” Ryne ordered, working hard not to let his voice quaver. He paused as they set the litter down. “Be extra careful with his leg and his stomach. Please.”

As much as he wanted to comfort Kahkon, Ryne stepped away instead. Stroking the boy’s face and whispering reassuring words would only serve to encourage the anger smoldering deep inside. Waiting to one side as Sakari administered the kinai mixture again and changed the boy’s saturated poultices, Ryne let out his breath in a deep whoosh.

Denestia’s twin moons had risen and now lay hidden behind a mass of clouds made sluggish from the windless night. The day’s heat that normally lifted at sunfall, sat like a woven` quilt, heavy and thick, and added a palpable quality to the darkness of the surrounding woods. Ryne had the feeling that without its glass container, the lone flame from the lamp he held wouldn’t have flickered. Not even the shadows cast by its light wavered.

Insects chirped, owls hooted and foragers rummaged about in the undergrowth before they ran off, scared away by the guttural snarls of beasts drawn to the pungent aroma of Kahkon’s blood. On occasion, Ryne caught the occasional glimmer of movement or shining eyes among the silhouettes of trees. Off to one side, branches shook, but he made no attempt to be quiet, knowing only the most dangerous creatures would attack.

However, the beasts didn’t bother him as much as the knowledge that Mariel still stalked them while Kahkon lay helpless. And that in itself was a rockslide compared to the avalanche he’d discovered in the forest.
Was the golden haired stranger responsible for the creatures? Could they have been an attempt to create wraithwolves? If so, how?
From all his research, such an undertaking should only be possible in Hydae. And Hydae was sealed away from Denestia.

What was the Tribunal’s stake in all this? Could those among them who engineered his capture and torture so many years ago be involved in whatever plot was afoot? The old scars on his back ached with the thought, and he shuddered. He shut away the memory before it enveloped him.

Sakari raised his head from the boy’s body and peered off into the dark trees, silver eyes aglow.

“Is she still following?” Ryne asked, wishing for a different answer than what he knew would come.

“Yes,” Sakari answered from where he hovered over Kahkon. “She is staying quite a bit farther back than usual.”

The corner of Ryne’s lips curled, and he grunted his irritation. Kahkon whimpered, and Ryne’s back tightened at the sound. One tentative foot rose before he stopped himself, focusing instead on the rustles and furtive sounds among the trees.

“What are your plans for her now?” Sakari asked, poultices sopping with blood as he worked on Kahkon. Yips of a lapra sounded nearby followed by an answering growl.

“I don’t know. What I want to do is proving to be an unwise path to take. Carnas would only suffer,” Ryne confessed. He held the lamp up to peer among the trees in time to see dark fur and dog-like shapes disappear among the trees.

“If she is who she says she is, restraining yourself only serves to delay the inevitable.”