Crown of Crystal Flame
Page 56

 C.L. Wilson

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It was by tracking the flickering remnants of that Light and the growing sense of urgency pulling at him like a lodestone that Kieran had found Lillis, buried under a pile of rubble, her body shattered, dying. She had been the one holding her family to the Light.
There was hardly a bone in her body left unbroken, hardly a fingerspan of skin not horribly bruised and scratched. A large tree limb had impaled her left leg. Sharp rocks had all but sliced off her right arm. Her back was broken in three places.
There was no reason she should still be alive at all—especially after feeding so much of her strength to her sister and father. And yet she was.
The shei’dalins couldn’t explain how she had survived, and Kieran didn’t care to try. He only cared that she was alive, and the shei’dalins were here to heal her, and he was with her. Nothing else mattered.
“I’m here, ajiana,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “I’m here with you. Your papa is fine. Lorelle is fine. You need to stay with us now.” Tears gathered on his lashes and dropped onto her cheek, making little paths through the layer of grime coating her skin.
Her eyes fluttered. Dazed eyes found his face. Her cracked lips parted in a faint smile. “I knew you were alive,” she whispered. “I knew you would come.”
He blinked back more tears and brushed his hand across her hair. “Always, ajiana. Whenever you need me, I’ll always find a way to reach you. No matter what.”
The Forests of Eld
Together, Rain and Ellysetta sprinted through the tall, dense trees of Eld’s old forest. Thick, soft moss, layered with fallen leaves and shed needles, carpeted the forest floor. Undergrowth was sparse, but Rain used Earth to thicken the occasional stands of small evergreen shrubs and thin saplings to provide cover from their pursuers. He had to use a light hand. Too much thickening of the brush, and he might as well blazon their path in sun-bright colors.
Ellysetta ran beside him, her footfalls Fey-silent despite the limp in her gait. She more than kept up his pace, but they still weren’t running even half Rain’s normal speed.
They ran for bells, stopping to rest only when their legs wouldn’t carry them another step. Rain wasn’t certain how far they had run. Forty miles. Maybe sixty. Still nowhere near close enough to expect rescue from the lu’tan.
Rain threw small obstacles behind them. Spirit weaves to confuse and mislead their pursuers: muffled voices to draw Eld attention in a different direction, a flash of Ellie’s bright hair to draw their eyes, splashes of blood leading away to the west.
Within his body, the remaining sel’dor barbs shifted continually, tearing muscle and flesh, burning, making his every weave a painful exercise. Each time the pain grew too sharp, Ellysetta touched him and stole away the worst of it.
Afternoon turned to evening. They came upon a narrow dirt road that cut a swath through the forest and very nearly stumbled into the path of an oncoming squad of Elden soldiers. Rain grabbed Ellysetta’s arm and hauled her back, and they ducked into the shadows of a small rocky outcropping.
«Do you think they saw me?» she asked.
«Nei.» He cursed softly to himself. «But they’re definitely looking for us. See how they’re scanning the forest as they march?»
One of the soldiers stopped to nail something to a tree.
«What are they doing?» Ellysetta asked.
«I don’t know.» Rain narrowed his eyes. The man had hammered what looked like a round moonstone on the tree trunk. While farther down, another soldier hung a similar stone on the opposite side of the road. «Whatever it is, I don’t like the looks of it.»
They ducked back into a small crevice in the rocks as the soldiers drew closer. He spun the barest hint of Spirit to veil the pair of them and make them appear to be part of the stone itself. The weave would not hold up to close inspection, but unless the Eld stood within a few armlengths of them, it should suffice.
He held himself still, hands clenched, as the Eld approached. Rage, his old familiar friend, burned deep within him, hungering for blood and vengeance.
Ellysetta laid a hand on his face, her touch cool and calming.
Rain covered her hand with his. «I will do nothing to endanger us, shei’tani.»
«I know you will not.» Her trust in him was simple—and absolute.
He swallowed his hatred, tamping it down as, behind them, the Eld stopped beside the rocky outcropping. Part of him—perhaps the still sane part—didn’t believe her trust was warranted, but he prayed to the gods he would not fail her.
“Here as well,” one of the soldiers announced in an authoritative voice.
There was a bit of grumbling. “The Tairen Soul himself gets shot down, and Primage Keldo has us hanging jaffing rocks on trees.”
“We all do our part, corporal. If it bothers you, perhaps you’d like to discuss it with the Primage yourself?” There was a snap to the squad leader’s voice.
“No, sergeant,” the corporal replied sullenly.
“Good. Then hang the chemar every hundred paces, as the honored Primage has ordered. If the Tairen Soul passes this way, we’ll have been the ones to set the trap.”
The squad of soldiers moved away, leaving the grumbling corporal behind to finish his task. “Perhaps you’d like to discuss it with the Primage yourself?” he sneered under his breath. “Scorching brown-nose. Bet you wear a dress and bend over any time the Primage gets a stiff one.”
From the sack at his waist, the corporal yanked out a small round stone set in what looked like some sort of pendant, then he pulled hammer and nails from another pouch. He slapped the stone against the tree trunk at shoulder height, pinned the nail through the bale loop at the top of the stone, and swung his hammer. His foot slipped on a pile of slick leaves, and the hammer slammed down on his thumb instead of the nail head.