Poisonwell
Page 54
“Come to me,” Kiranrao said, striding forward. Some of his clothes were torn and shredded from the melee with the beasts. “I will take him.”
“As you wish,” Paedrin said deprecatingly.
The Romani strode forward menacingly, not feinting or seeking to deceive. “Are you the lord of this land? I defy you, Shade.”
The gaunt man faced the Romani. His bony hand suddenly jerked and the whip sailed out, wrapping around Kiranrao’s throat.
“Terror is only justice: prompt, severe, and inflexible.”
- Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos
XVI
Phae’s heart raced with the suddenness of the Shade’s attack. She staggered backward, her bones cold from the presence of such a malevolent being. Kiranrao’s face twisted with pain, the barbs in the whip digging into his neck. He jerked at the cords fastened around his throat with one hand and brought up the dagger to sever the length, but the Shade of Aunwynn yanked on the handle and pulled Kiranrao off his feet with inhuman strength, sending him flying into an oak tree. Kiranrao blurred, his body becoming shadow just before the impact, and the cord went loose. The Romani emerged from behind the tree, face contorted with hatred. The blade gleamed in his hand.
Blood trickled from the barb wounds on Kiranrao’s neck, but he stalked forward.
Then the Shade was gone.
Kiranrao stopped, hesitating. He craned his neck to listen.
The whip lashed out again and the end snapped on open air as the Romani dove forward and rolled, avoiding it. He sprang up at once, and Phae saw the Shade had reappeared elsewhere, his bony frame and tattered cloak on the other side of the glen. The howling of the hounds picked up, their incessant baying making Phae cower with fear. Shion was near her, tracking the Shade with his eyes, keeping her just behind him.
Kiranrao launched himself at the Shade, his movement so fast she couldn’t follow. As his dagger plunged down, the Shade vanished again, only to rematerialize right next to Kiranrao. She watched in horror as a dripping maw opened up in the blank, sack-like face. It wasn’t a mouth. It was too stringy, like pulling through melted cheese. The void opened up where a mouth should be and a horde of black moths, tiny and quick like jiggering gnats, engulfed Kiranrao in a cloudy pestilence. There was a shriek of pain and the Romani staggered away, flapping his arms to ward off the cloud.
He stumbled backward, going down, and Phae saw with blooming sickness that his skin was shriveling like parchment just as her father predicted, the muscles of his arms desiccated and frail. The Romani tried to scramble, but his limbs were suddenly grotesquely thin.
“Khiara, save him,” Tyrus ordered. “Shion, Baylen—help cover her.”
Khiara’s staff whirled and struck the Shade of Aunwynn from a distance, sounding like the clatter of wood against wood. She spun the end around and jammed it into his middle, trying to knock him away from Kiranrao so she could heal him. The cowl turned and faced her and then it vanished again.
“Tyrus,” Annon pleaded, “we cannot kill this creature!”
Khiara looked swiftly and then rushed to Kiranrao’s side, dropping low and placing her palm on his chest, her head bowed in determination. Her hand glowed orange and then bright, like a sudden glimpse of sunlight peeking through the clouds. Kiranrao’s mummified skin was restored again, flesh and muscle filling out. His eyes, though wild with pain a moment before, calmed as her powers swept through him.
Then the Shade was back, appearing nearby. The whip lashed out, wrapping around Khiara’s neck, and he yanked her toward himself. She was choking, her eyes wide with fear, and she dug her boots against the exposed roots of the oak trees, trying to find a foothold. But his strength overmatched hers easily, and he drew her inexorably closer. The maw opened again.
Shion rushed forward, faster than a snake, Baylen just behind him. Phae felt instantly exposed, her protector gone to save the Shaliah girl. She wanted to scream, but she also wanted him to save Khiara. Would the Shade’s magic affect him? Would he also fall to another immortal’s power?
Shion reached Khiara, grabbed the taut whip with one hand, not heeding the barbs, and slashed against it with his dagger. The whip severed and Khiara tumbled backward, still choking for breath.
The dripping maw opened again and the Shade flung one of his arms wide, belching out another cloud of moths that surged into Shion and swarmed him. Phae stared, unable to tear her eyes from him. Shion pulled himself closer, wrapping the whip around his hand and wrist, binding himself to the length, pulling at the immobile Shade. The gnats vanished and Phae gasped with relief when she saw that their disease had not altered Shion at all.
“As you wish,” Paedrin said deprecatingly.
The Romani strode forward menacingly, not feinting or seeking to deceive. “Are you the lord of this land? I defy you, Shade.”
The gaunt man faced the Romani. His bony hand suddenly jerked and the whip sailed out, wrapping around Kiranrao’s throat.
“Terror is only justice: prompt, severe, and inflexible.”
- Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos
XVI
Phae’s heart raced with the suddenness of the Shade’s attack. She staggered backward, her bones cold from the presence of such a malevolent being. Kiranrao’s face twisted with pain, the barbs in the whip digging into his neck. He jerked at the cords fastened around his throat with one hand and brought up the dagger to sever the length, but the Shade of Aunwynn yanked on the handle and pulled Kiranrao off his feet with inhuman strength, sending him flying into an oak tree. Kiranrao blurred, his body becoming shadow just before the impact, and the cord went loose. The Romani emerged from behind the tree, face contorted with hatred. The blade gleamed in his hand.
Blood trickled from the barb wounds on Kiranrao’s neck, but he stalked forward.
Then the Shade was gone.
Kiranrao stopped, hesitating. He craned his neck to listen.
The whip lashed out again and the end snapped on open air as the Romani dove forward and rolled, avoiding it. He sprang up at once, and Phae saw the Shade had reappeared elsewhere, his bony frame and tattered cloak on the other side of the glen. The howling of the hounds picked up, their incessant baying making Phae cower with fear. Shion was near her, tracking the Shade with his eyes, keeping her just behind him.
Kiranrao launched himself at the Shade, his movement so fast she couldn’t follow. As his dagger plunged down, the Shade vanished again, only to rematerialize right next to Kiranrao. She watched in horror as a dripping maw opened up in the blank, sack-like face. It wasn’t a mouth. It was too stringy, like pulling through melted cheese. The void opened up where a mouth should be and a horde of black moths, tiny and quick like jiggering gnats, engulfed Kiranrao in a cloudy pestilence. There was a shriek of pain and the Romani staggered away, flapping his arms to ward off the cloud.
He stumbled backward, going down, and Phae saw with blooming sickness that his skin was shriveling like parchment just as her father predicted, the muscles of his arms desiccated and frail. The Romani tried to scramble, but his limbs were suddenly grotesquely thin.
“Khiara, save him,” Tyrus ordered. “Shion, Baylen—help cover her.”
Khiara’s staff whirled and struck the Shade of Aunwynn from a distance, sounding like the clatter of wood against wood. She spun the end around and jammed it into his middle, trying to knock him away from Kiranrao so she could heal him. The cowl turned and faced her and then it vanished again.
“Tyrus,” Annon pleaded, “we cannot kill this creature!”
Khiara looked swiftly and then rushed to Kiranrao’s side, dropping low and placing her palm on his chest, her head bowed in determination. Her hand glowed orange and then bright, like a sudden glimpse of sunlight peeking through the clouds. Kiranrao’s mummified skin was restored again, flesh and muscle filling out. His eyes, though wild with pain a moment before, calmed as her powers swept through him.
Then the Shade was back, appearing nearby. The whip lashed out, wrapping around Khiara’s neck, and he yanked her toward himself. She was choking, her eyes wide with fear, and she dug her boots against the exposed roots of the oak trees, trying to find a foothold. But his strength overmatched hers easily, and he drew her inexorably closer. The maw opened again.
Shion rushed forward, faster than a snake, Baylen just behind him. Phae felt instantly exposed, her protector gone to save the Shaliah girl. She wanted to scream, but she also wanted him to save Khiara. Would the Shade’s magic affect him? Would he also fall to another immortal’s power?
Shion reached Khiara, grabbed the taut whip with one hand, not heeding the barbs, and slashed against it with his dagger. The whip severed and Khiara tumbled backward, still choking for breath.
The dripping maw opened again and the Shade flung one of his arms wide, belching out another cloud of moths that surged into Shion and swarmed him. Phae stared, unable to tear her eyes from him. Shion pulled himself closer, wrapping the whip around his hand and wrist, binding himself to the length, pulling at the immobile Shade. The gnats vanished and Phae gasped with relief when she saw that their disease had not altered Shion at all.
