Child of Flame (Page 289)

He braced himself on the staff and, with a grunt, pushed up to his feet. Adica moaned softly, whispering inaudible words. Crickets chirped. A whirring insect brushed against his face. He flailed, taken by surprise, just as Laoina hissed sharply and grabbed his arm. He heard the man’s laughter again, closer this time and answered by a second voice. A rustling disturbed the trees. He heard a grunt from the same direction he’d heard that laughter, a “gaw” of pain, a cry, broken off and rolling into a horrible gurgle.

Throats slit. Men dying silently.

A child swung out of the branches just in front of them and landed nimbly in the stream. She—or he—held a bow in one hand and with the other gestured impatiently. A length of white cloth was tied around its hips; otherwise, the child was naked except for sandals and dark stripes painted across its thin chest.

“Come,” whispered Laoina urgently.

They cut away into the underbrush, Alain stumbling over the rough ground as he followed Laoina and the child. They hadn’t gone more than a hundred steps when a dozen figures blocked their path, each one armed with a round shield and a short sword. Because they were all painted with dark stripes across their bare chests and faces, they were hard to distinguish in the darkness since the blend of shadow and light against their skin made them fade into the night and the vegetation. Their leader, a stocky young man, spoke quickly to Laoina.

“You heard our call.”

“We did. Where is the Holy One?”

“No one knows. But it is certain that the Cursed Ones have taken her prisoner. The Horse people are on the move.”

“What must we do, then?”

“Go quickly. The queen needs the strength of the deer girl.” He nodded toward Adica, looked again, and hastily came over to examine her. “She is caught in a vision,” he said to Laoina, ignoring Alain. “We must get her to Queen Shuashaana at once.” Without asking permission, he began to untie the ropes holding Adica over Alain’s shoulders.

“Let them carry her,” said Laoina as Alain began to protest. “You are tired.”

“The hounds.” It was the one point he was fixed on, like an arrow shot true.

“Ah.” She turned back to the leader, and the two fell into an intense exchange that he was too tired to follow. “So it will be,” she said at last to Alain as three men separated themselves from the others, trading packs with their comrades. “Once the Cursed Ones find the bodies of their patrol, this defile will swarm with them like hornets. You must get your dogs now, before the sun rises, or you will never get them. We will take the Hallowed One to Shu-Sha’s camp. These men will help you with the hounds. That one—” She pointed to a middle-aged man wearing a necklace of jet beads. “—is trained as a Walking One and can speak for you. I will go to be the words for the Hallowed One. Then you will follow after.”

“I can’t leave Adica!”

Laoina cut him off. “Then must you leave your dogs. One, or the other. We will go swiftly to Shu-Sha’s camp. The Hallowed One will be safe with these warriors, even until you come.”

Looking them over, he thought she was probably right. The dozen warriors, three of them women, looked strong, determined, and ruthless. He hated to leave Adica, knowing that the Cursed Ones might still ambush the party carrying her, but clearly these people knew the ground better than he did and he already knew they would kill. To follow her now, he would have to abandon Sorrow and Rage.

“Very well. So must it be. I will take the waterskins.” He kissed Adica’s warm cheek before a man hoisted her over his back. She gave no response. Her hands remained clenched, and it was hard to make out her features in the darkness. She was only a shadow, really, blurred and indistinct. As the other party faded into the darkness, he lost sight of her hanging helplessly off another man’s back.

Fear for her made tears burn hot in his eyes. It gnawed at his gut, but he forced it to keep still, to crawl into his aching arms and legs and feed them with its dark energy. He would catch up to her in Shu-Sha’s camp. By believing it, he would make it happen.

He turned toward his new companions, who eyed him with interest. Two of them looked so alike that for an instant he thought he was seeing double. They wore, like him, neatly trimmed beards, but they had coarse, wiry black hair.

“We should take water. The hounds will be thirsty. I am called Alain.”

The man wearing the jet beads looked him up and down. He had silver in his beard and a swarthy complexion. “I am called Agalleos. These two are my brother’s sons, born together, Maklos and Shevros. Be quick.”