The Blight of Muirwood
Page 31
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Up they went as the surge of rain thickened around them. She held up the orb, watching in fascination as the rain dribbled down its surface, but the pointers continued to direct towards the summit. Writing appeared in the lower half of the orb. She wiped water from her eyes, staring at the words greedily, unable to understand them.
“It says something,” Lia said, stopping. The summit was just ahead but there was no sign of Scarseth. Lightning lit up the twilight, streaking between the scudding clouds. Booming thunder shuddered in the heavens.
“I cannot read Pry-rian,” Colvin said, hands on his hips. He scowled with frustation. “Is it a warning?”
The hunter is patient. The prey is careless.
Martin’s words came back to her in a whisper. She stared down at the orb, then back at the summit.
“Why would he not bother to disguise his trail?” Lia asked.
“Maybe he thought the rain would hide his tracks during the storm. How could he know when we would follow him?”
“True, but why come to the Tor?” Lia wiped her face, staring again. A feeling rose from the pit in her stomach. “It is not a good place to find shelter, especially during a storm. There are no trees on the summit, you can see for leagues in every direction. There really is not any place you can hide…up…there…”
She stopped and stared at Colvin. He stared back at her.
“We are outside the Abbey’s protection,” Colvin whispered.
Lia stared down at Muirwood, seeing small pinpricks of light coming from it as night shrouded the valley. Deception – Scarseth’s greatest talent.
“A trap,” she said, realizing it might already be too late.
* * *
They charged back down the hill, struggling to keep from slipping, and Lia wondered if they were being fools. The slick footing, the squish of the mud, all threatened to send them both tumbling to the foot of the Tor with broken ankles or worse. Was their mad run justified? The only sounds were their gasps, fresh thunder, and the hammering of her heartbeat in her ears. The storm only muffled, but did not hide, the sudden thudding of hooves from the hilltop behind them.
“The Abbey is too far!” Colvin said angrily.
“To the woods,” she answered. Holding the orb in her hand, she thought, Guide us to the nearest tunnel! The orb flashed brilliantly, the spindles turning and pointing to the right.
“Put that away, Lia! They will see it!”
“I need it to find our way! There is a tunnel entrance in the woods over there. An old oak and a Leering guard it. We can cross back to the Abbey underground if we can get there. The woods will throw off the horses too. If we can…”
The hill dipped suddenly and her foot met open air before she started to fall, gasping with shock.
Colvin caught her beneath her arms and brought her back up before she twisted her leg. “Careful, Lia!”
She wanted to snap at him, but did not. What she needed was time to pull her longbow out of the sleeve and string it. Every moment in their escape was precious. With the storm clouds smothering the dusk, the darkness would help thwart their pursuers in the woods. They reached the bottom of the hill and started towards the woods at a dead run. Lia glanced back at the Tor and saw half a dozen horses coming down at a gallop. The riders were crazed to attempt it, but that fact only acted as spurs to her and Colvin.
“Hurry!” she called, chuffing. Her heart battered inside her chest, her breathing came in gulps of fire.
A horrible animal scream sounded from the hillside. She had no time to look back, but imagined one of the horses had stumbled and went down. The weeds and tall grass slapped against them as they ran, the rain coming in a torrent. Lightning danced across the sky, revealing Colvin’s clenched jaw, his locked expression. The wall of oaks stood in the distance, offering the false promise of shelter. Neither spoke, for it was all they could do to keep their legs moving.
The sound of the galloping closed in behind them. There were no words spoken – no calls or threats. Only the thick thudding of the hooves, the snorts and frothing of the steeds. The silence of the men riding them made her tremble. They were being hunted. No mistaking the intent.
Lia’s mind raced with ideas. They were close to the woods. Right now, every lightning flash made them stand out against the grain. Dropping to the ground would hide them for a while, possibly confuse their pursuers, but the woods would cloak their movements better. Earlier the wind had made her shiver with cold. Now she was sweating and hot, pressing as fast as she could. Colvin barely kept up with her. His face was haggard.
One of the horses screamed again, close enough that she thought it was over. With a final surge, they reached the edge of the woods and darted inside. Lia grabbed a fistful of Colvin’s drenched shirt and pulled him after her to dodge between the trees. She led in a twisting pattern to disguise their trail. Beneath the crown of massive oak branches, dripping from the storm, they found shelter from the howling wind. The darkness made running too treacherous, so they slowed. She let go of his arm and pulled the bow sleeve off her shoulder, untied the end and then stopped.
“It says something,” Lia said, stopping. The summit was just ahead but there was no sign of Scarseth. Lightning lit up the twilight, streaking between the scudding clouds. Booming thunder shuddered in the heavens.
“I cannot read Pry-rian,” Colvin said, hands on his hips. He scowled with frustation. “Is it a warning?”
The hunter is patient. The prey is careless.
Martin’s words came back to her in a whisper. She stared down at the orb, then back at the summit.
“Why would he not bother to disguise his trail?” Lia asked.
“Maybe he thought the rain would hide his tracks during the storm. How could he know when we would follow him?”
“True, but why come to the Tor?” Lia wiped her face, staring again. A feeling rose from the pit in her stomach. “It is not a good place to find shelter, especially during a storm. There are no trees on the summit, you can see for leagues in every direction. There really is not any place you can hide…up…there…”
She stopped and stared at Colvin. He stared back at her.
“We are outside the Abbey’s protection,” Colvin whispered.
Lia stared down at Muirwood, seeing small pinpricks of light coming from it as night shrouded the valley. Deception – Scarseth’s greatest talent.
“A trap,” she said, realizing it might already be too late.
* * *
They charged back down the hill, struggling to keep from slipping, and Lia wondered if they were being fools. The slick footing, the squish of the mud, all threatened to send them both tumbling to the foot of the Tor with broken ankles or worse. Was their mad run justified? The only sounds were their gasps, fresh thunder, and the hammering of her heartbeat in her ears. The storm only muffled, but did not hide, the sudden thudding of hooves from the hilltop behind them.
“The Abbey is too far!” Colvin said angrily.
“To the woods,” she answered. Holding the orb in her hand, she thought, Guide us to the nearest tunnel! The orb flashed brilliantly, the spindles turning and pointing to the right.
“Put that away, Lia! They will see it!”
“I need it to find our way! There is a tunnel entrance in the woods over there. An old oak and a Leering guard it. We can cross back to the Abbey underground if we can get there. The woods will throw off the horses too. If we can…”
The hill dipped suddenly and her foot met open air before she started to fall, gasping with shock.
Colvin caught her beneath her arms and brought her back up before she twisted her leg. “Careful, Lia!”
She wanted to snap at him, but did not. What she needed was time to pull her longbow out of the sleeve and string it. Every moment in their escape was precious. With the storm clouds smothering the dusk, the darkness would help thwart their pursuers in the woods. They reached the bottom of the hill and started towards the woods at a dead run. Lia glanced back at the Tor and saw half a dozen horses coming down at a gallop. The riders were crazed to attempt it, but that fact only acted as spurs to her and Colvin.
“Hurry!” she called, chuffing. Her heart battered inside her chest, her breathing came in gulps of fire.
A horrible animal scream sounded from the hillside. She had no time to look back, but imagined one of the horses had stumbled and went down. The weeds and tall grass slapped against them as they ran, the rain coming in a torrent. Lightning danced across the sky, revealing Colvin’s clenched jaw, his locked expression. The wall of oaks stood in the distance, offering the false promise of shelter. Neither spoke, for it was all they could do to keep their legs moving.
The sound of the galloping closed in behind them. There were no words spoken – no calls or threats. Only the thick thudding of the hooves, the snorts and frothing of the steeds. The silence of the men riding them made her tremble. They were being hunted. No mistaking the intent.
Lia’s mind raced with ideas. They were close to the woods. Right now, every lightning flash made them stand out against the grain. Dropping to the ground would hide them for a while, possibly confuse their pursuers, but the woods would cloak their movements better. Earlier the wind had made her shiver with cold. Now she was sweating and hot, pressing as fast as she could. Colvin barely kept up with her. His face was haggard.
One of the horses screamed again, close enough that she thought it was over. With a final surge, they reached the edge of the woods and darted inside. Lia grabbed a fistful of Colvin’s drenched shirt and pulled him after her to dodge between the trees. She led in a twisting pattern to disguise their trail. Beneath the crown of massive oak branches, dripping from the storm, they found shelter from the howling wind. The darkness made running too treacherous, so they slowed. She let go of his arm and pulled the bow sleeve off her shoulder, untied the end and then stopped.
