The Silent Tempest (Book 2) (13 page)

“The match is over when one of you is
dead,” said the trainer.

The boy groaned, his eyes fluttering open
as he coughed, trying to clear his lungs.

“Please!” cried Haley. “You’ve got to
help him!”

“He seems to be in considerable pain,”
said Dalleth with a detached look. “As sensitive as you seem to be, I would
think you would want to end this quickly.” The trainer turned his back and
left the arena.

Haley watched the She’Har go, but her mind
was on the boy dying a few feet away. He tried to sit up, but the movement
drove one of his cracked ribs in deeper, damaging his lung even further. A
gurgling cry escaped his lips.

The spectators were beginning to disperse,
bored with the lack of activity, but the shield around the arena remained up.
Haley would remain until her opponent was dead.

Haley sensed a movement, a flash of
aythar. One of the teen’s ribs, the one threatening his lung, moved back,
fusing with another piece of bone and giving his heart and lungs some much
needed space. He hissed, air coming painfully from between clenched teeth as
he set the rib back in place.

Her eyes widened as she watched, realizing
he was healing himself. If his strength didn’t give out, he might manage
enough to keep himself from dying. She could see an artery sealing itself now,
stopping the majority of the bleeding within his chest. The boy’s eyes glared
daggers at her as he worked, as though he blamed her for each painful moment.

“I’m going to kill you,” he growled.

“Why?” she said. Tears were trickling
from her eyes once more. “Why do you want to kill me? I never did anything to
you.”

The youth sneered, “Because you’re
stupid. You don’t deserve to live.” Most of his ribs were whole now, but his
aythar was so weak it flickered in her magesight. “I’m going to kill you, and
then they’ll give me my name.”

Haley knew it was futile. She couldn’t
kill him, but she couldn’t let him heal himself either. It would be easier if
he just finished dying. Without thinking she lashed out, using her aythar to
stop him from closing the last leaking blood vessel. It was a medium sized
vein that had been leaking blood slowly into his chest.

He fought her, opposing her will with his
own, and the two of them struggled silently for several seconds, he to hold the
flesh of the vessel together, and she to keep it open—to let the blood flow.
His strength failed almost immediately, and in the absence of his resistance
she ripped the vein further, causing it to bleed faster. It had been
unintentional, but her stomach twisted as she felt the damage she had done.

Hate-filled eyes stared accusingly at her.
As soon as she released him he began to try to close the vein once more.

“Just die!” she shouted. With desperate
strength she drove her power into his chest and
pulled.
Skin, ribs, and
sternum ruptured, sending a gout of flesh and blood upward as she wrenched his
chest open. He couldn’t even scream.

Haley watched him die, his aythar fading
and his eyes glazing over. Something warm dripped from her nose, leaving a
sticky trail across her lips. Some of his blood had gotten on her.

Her heart was pounding, and her knees felt
weak, but she still felt a sense of relief. He was dead, and she was alive.
The shield around the arena faded, and she knew it was over. Raising a hand
she tried to wipe the blood away from her lips, but the more she wiped the more
she tasted the sharp tang of iron.

A hand fell on her shoulder. Dalleth
stood beside her.

“A grisly victory, but a victory still.
You will receive a name tomorrow,” said the She’Har trainer.

Haley wanted to argue. She already had a
name, but Tyrion had warned her.
“Just accept it,”
he had said.

Gwaeri was close by as well. Dalleth
turned to him and gave one more instruction, “Take her back to her cell. Have
her whipped until she loses consciousness.”

“What?!” exclaimed Haley. “I did what you
wanted!”

Dalleth gave her a cold glance, “You will
learn not to
play
in the arena. Pain is a valuable teaching tool.”

The wagon rolled on down the trail,
following it ever lower until it reached the river that ran through the rugged
foothills where Colne was situated. The river continued on, eventually passing
beyond the rugged land and into the ever growing forest before finally crossing
into the Illeniel Grove.

The wagon couldn’t take such a direct
course, though. It would have to cross the river and follow the level ground
on the other side. The trail would lead up and away from the river again
before paralleling it on its journey to the deep woods.

The ford where the trail met the river was
shallow, but the jumbled rocks that lay under the water made a difficult
crossing for wagons. Kate and Gabriel got off there and helped the other teens
push and pull, aiding the horses as they struggled to make the crossing. One
of the wheels slipped into a deep hole that had been hidden among the rocks,
but with numerous hands lifting they got it free and made it across.

Tyrion slept through the entire process,
his fatigue too great for even the jolting movements to rouse him.

Hours passed, and they reached the edge of
the forest without further problems. The land flattened there, still rocky, it
held numerous oaks and elms, along with a scattering of ash trees. A mile
farther and the ground became softer and more fertile, and there the god trees
began, visible even from their current position, the massive forms loomed over
the smaller oaks.

Gabriel put a hand on Kate’s shoulder,
“There’s someone out there.”

She looked at him worriedly, “Where?”

“Straight ahead,” said the boy. “There
are a bunch of them, too far to see from here. I think they’re like him.”
Gabriel scrunched his face as he spoke, as if trying to bring something into
focus without knowing quite how to do so. Squinting obviously wasn’t working
for him. “It’s hard to tell exactly how many, and I’m not sure how far away
either. I’m not used to this.”

“They could be friendly,” observed Kate.
“This is the direction he wanted us to go.” The words brought her no comfort,
though. Daniel’s comments in the past had made it clear that the term
‘friendly’ was a poor adjective to apply to any of the She’Har.

“I want to go home,” suggested Ashley
Morris. She had been listening from her position behind the wagon. “Who knows
what will happen if we go in there?”

Gabriel opened his mouth, unsure what to
say.

Kate knew better than to hesitate, “We
will wait. Daniel will know what to do when he wakes.”

“Stop calling me that,” said Tyrion
quietly. The sudden stillness of the wagon had woken him when the movement and
jostling could not.

“You’re awake,” she responded with obvious
relief.

“There are some people ahead of us,” said
Gabriel leaning close to Tyrion’s head anxiously. “We don’t know how many
exactly or whether…”

“There are twelve,” said Tyrion
impatiently. “Eight women, four men, and one She’Har trainer from the Centyr
Grove.” He started to sit up, but a wave of pain and nausea made him think
better of the idea.

“I think they’re coming toward us now,”
added Gabriel.

“Yeah,” agreed Tyrion. “One of their
scouts got closer, and now they know we’re here.” He looked over at Kate, “And
no, to answer your question, they are
not
friendly.”

Jack Baker, another of the boys who was
paying close attention to the conversation, began to groan in fear.

“Somebody shut that kid up before I kill
him,” growled Tyrion.

Jack began to groan even louder, but
before Kate could say a word one of the girls, Sarah Wilson, struck him hard,
slapping the boy with her open palm. “Shut up, Jack!”

Jack didn’t take well to being slapped.
He started to react by punching Sarah, but a second boy, Ryan Carter, drove his
fist into Jack’s stomach. “Dammitt, Jack,” said Ryan in a hoarse whisper. “Be
quiet. This ain’t the time to be fighting or crying.”

Jack was on his knees now, gasping for
air, but doing so as quietly as possible.

“So what are we going to do?” asked Kate,
drawing everyone’s attention back to Tyrion before they could do further
violence to one another.

“Not much,” said Tyrion. “There are three
possibilities. One, you run, they capture you, and within an hour you’ll be
collared, naked, and whipped into submission. The second option is waiting
here, fighting, being captured, and then within an hour you’ll be collared,
stripped, and then whipped into submission…”

“What about the third option?” asked Tad
anxiously.

“I’m too injured to fight,” Tyrion
informed him, “but I can try something else.”

“What’s your plan?” prompted Tad.

“There’s a storm coming,” said Tyrion.
The wind had picked up a little over the past minute, becoming a brisk breeze.

“What’s the plan?” said Gabriel, adding
his voice to Tad’s.

Tyrion said a word, but Tad couldn’t
understand him. The horses shifted, their heads lowering and their eyes
drawing closed as they fell suddenly asleep. Tyrion looked at Tad, “Get the
rope out that your father put in the wagon. Cut it into lengths and have
everyone tie themselves to the wagon. If anyone else can fit in the bed, they
should climb in as well. The extra weight might help.”

“Help what?” said Kate.

“Help keep the wagon from blowing away,”
responded Tyrion. His eyes were distant now, staring up toward the sky.

Tad was staring at Tyrion uncertainly.
Kate punched his arm.

“Move!” she barked at him. “Get the
rope! We need to tie ourselves down quickly.” The wind was beginning to
whistle as it moved through the trees around them now, making a high pitched
keening sound.

“I don’t understand,” announced Gabriel.
“He isn’t doing anything. Where is the wind coming from?”

Tyrion didn’t answer, his eyes were
glassy, unfocused.

Kate looked at Gabriel, curious. “Are you
saying he isn’t controlling the wind?”

Gabriel nodded.

When the wind had first come up, she had
felt hope, but now fear touched her heart. She looked around her, watching as
the teens awkwardly tied themselves to the wagon.
Ropes might not be
enough,
she thought. In the distance there was a roaring sound.

Kate looked back at Gabriel, “Can you make
another of those shield things? Like you did during the fight earlier?”

“M—maybe,” answered the boy.

“Then do it,” she told him. Her hair was
standing out from the side of her head, parallel to the ground. The air was
rushing about them, plucking at their clothes. A limb broke away from a tree
and flew past.

Gabriel wasn’t sure if it was necessary or
not, but taking a heavy wooden spoon from the wagon he began tracing a circle
in the ground around the group. It took him half a minute to finish it, and by
then the gale was threatening to lift him from the ground. Repeating what he
had done before, he poured his strength into it, creating a rough hemisphere
above them. The wind cut off abruptly, but he could feel it battering the
invisible dome.

Kate was alarmed to see Tyrion’s body rising
from the wagon, floating as if he weighed nothing. His features were limp, and
his limbs seemed loose. She grabbed hold and pushed him down, pinning him with
her own body. There was no wind inside Gabriel’s shield, but Tyrion felt
light, as though he had been hollowed out and stuffed with feathers.

“Wake up, Daniel!” she shouted at him, but
there was no sign that he heard her.

The roar of the wind was deafening now, a
solid wall of sound that devoured all hearing. The trees around them were
bending and starting to break. Heavy limbs flew through the air, striking
their protective dome and bouncing away. Entire trees began to come free from
the ground, ripped skyward, roots and all.

A deep shuddering vibration passed through
Kate’s stomach as a massive elm slammed into the shield. Gabriel fell to one
knee, but he retained consciousness and somehow his shield held. The tree
began to slide away, but then Brigid Tolburn stood.

The girl’s eyes were on the tree, and it
stopped moving, as though she held it pinned there. Her arms were
outstretched, fingers grasping at the space around her, as though she was
gripping something invisible. Another tree struck the shield and then stopped,
its branches tangling with the first elm that was still there.

Kate could see the others crying, covering
their heads, shouting, or attempting to climb underneath the wagon itself. She
could hear none of it, of course, for the roaring outside the shield was so
great that no other sound could overcome it.

Gabriel was kneeling, hands held against
his ears while blood dripped from his nose. More trees struck the shield, but
each one seemed to catch, twining its branches with the other trees already
there. A great wooden palisade of fallen and tangled oaks and elms was forming
around them.

Brigid stood in the center, mouth open,
and Kate knew that if the roaring stopped she would hear the girl screaming.
The dark headed girl’s blue eyes were wide, and her hair flew around her,
carried by a wind that seemed to touch only her.

Is she the one binding the
trees together like that?
wondered Kate. She had
no way of knowing, since she couldn’t sense aythar, but it seemed unlikely that
Gabriel was doing it. He seemed to have his hands full just maintaining the
shield, and the others were clearly in a state of panic.

She looked at Daniel. His body was no
longer just light, it felt
wrong,
as if he were becoming insubstantial.
The light was fading as trees covered the dome above them, but it appeared as
if his arms were fading.

“Daniel!” she shouted, hoping she could wake
him, but she couldn’t even hear her own voice. Leaning close, she tried
yelling again, this time directly into his ear. Again there was no response.
He continued staring blankly into space.

It might have been an illusion in the
darkness that was now enveloping them, but she could no longer see his legs.

Something is wrong,
she thought.
This can’t be what he intended to happen.

Her arm felt as though it was about to
pass through him. The only thing still solid about him now was his face. Not
knowing what else to do, she took his left ear lobe into her mouth and bit
down.

He never flinched.

She bit him again, harder this time, until
the taste of blood found her tongue. “Wake up, damn you!” she shouted. “Wake
up, or I’ll bite this ear off to make it match the other one!” Years before he
had lost most of his outer right ear when a warden had cut it off.

His eyes blinked, and his chest seemed to
grow more substantial.

Unwilling to bite him again she kissed his
ear instead, something she had once dreamed of doing.
Once,
she
thought,
before you became a monster.

He shivered and cold silver eyes turned to
regard her, alien eyes. They were grey now, as if they were made of swirling
mist, with no whites, or even pupils or irises.

A feeling of revulsion swept over her.
She knew then, whatever she was touching, whatever she had kissed—it wasn’t
human. It stared at her with no sense of feeling or humanity. Kate drew back,
and the eyes moved away. Tyrion began to fade again.

“Damn you!” she cursed. Grabbing his head
she nipped his ear once more, before kissing it again. The eyes turned toward
her, and steeling her stomach against the disgust she felt she drew his lips
toward her own. They were cold and unresponsive.

It was like kissing the dead.

But the cold flesh around his mouth was
growing warmer.

She clung to him and kissed him harder,
fighting herself even as she did. Soon his arms were back, and he turned,
pushing her onto her side, his tongue sliding between her lips. The noise
outside the tangled barrier of trees faded, and the wind slowed.

One of his hands was searching now, making
its way under her blouse, tracing cold lines along her stomach. Kate pushed
down, trying to keep his hand away, but he growled and forced it up, grasping
rudely at her flesh, clutching at her breast.

“Daniel, no! Let me go,” she protested,
trying to push him away.

Tyrion’s mouth opened, but nothing like
human words emerged. It was a bizarre sound, like the rustling of trees in the
wind. Swirling silver eyes looked through Kate, but still he held her down.
He forced her onto her back before blinking, his eyes shifting even as she
watched.

Blinking again, the silver mist vanished,
replaced by blue human eyes.

No, not human eyes,
Kate realized,
more like the eyes of a beast.

Tyrion was still groping with his hand,
heedless of her protests.

“Stop, Daniel!” she shouted. “Not now,
not like this!”