[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
voice. Here was probably a glimpse of the man Jaston once had been. Still,
brave words did not stoke a weak heart for long. If they were to risk the
swamps, they would need some sign that this man would not become a hazard to
their mission, some proof other than his mere word.
A small voice spoke from behind Er ril, startling the plainsman. Whatcha all
doing?
Er ril turned around to find a small bare-assed boy standing at the raft s
edge. He had a finger dug deep into one nostril. We have to go, he said as
he extracted his probing finger. The sun s up, and a monster s coming to eat
you all.
The blood hunter had reached the base of the Landslip just as the dawn s light
brightened the eastern sky. Torwren paused to get a bearing on his prey s
scent. The swamp filled his nostrils, trying to overwhelm his keen nose.
Still, the wit ch s magick was like a thread of silver in stone, bright and
clear among the myriad odors of the Drowned Lands. Crouching, he sped along
the scarp of broken rock and thorny growths at the cliff s base, his nose
tracing the path. She was close.
Though fearless, the black d warf still moved cautiously; he did not want to
spook his prey. With the sun s rising, the shadows would be few. Through the
mists ahead, he saw the buildings of a ramshackle town. He followed the scent
trail cautiously. It led first to a stone stable at the edge of town. Torwren
smelled the horses he had been following for days. He smiled, his yellow teeth
Page 232
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
bright against his black lips. His prey were on foot now. Only the fleetness
of their mounts legs had kept the wit ch from his grasp. Now that advantage
was over.
Still, to be sure, he slipped around the edge of the building and crept toward
the door. If he slew their mounts, there would be no
JAMtS
chance of escape. He worked the door open and wormed into the stables.
Instantly the horses erupted around him with whinnying cries and stamping
feet. The first horse kicked savagely at its door, the crash like a
thunderbolt in the narrow confines. He had to work quickly before an alarm was
raised.
Torwren followed the scents to the second stall. Inside he spotted a small
gray mare. A trace of the wit ch s magick clung to it like the moss on a tree.
The beast s eyes were rolled white with fear. It backed from him as he pulled
open the stall s door.
He meant to step inside when a small voice rose from near his feet. You re
not supposed to be here.
Torwren glanced down to see a small human child standing in the crisp hay of
the stall. He wore not a stitch of clothing. And worse yet, as filthy as the
child was, he gave off no odor. The d warf backed a step to study the boy.
Who are you? he asked, curiosity staying his hand from snapping the child s
neck. The boy s heart would make an excellent fuel for his chase.
The child removed a stem of hay from his mouth. He waved it at the hulking
d warf. Go away. You don t belong here.
Torwren scowled. Already he had paused too long. His skin grew stiffer and his
limbs sluggish from lack of blood. Curious or not, he needed to feed. He
reached for the boy. But his hands ended up gripping only piles of damp moss.
The boy was gone.
Shaking the slimy strands from his stone palms, he caught a whiff of magick
hanging in the air. He sniffed at it, trying to capture its scent. But it
faded too fast. He rubbed at his thick nose. Why did that brief whisper of
magick seem familiar to him? It was like stepping into a room and suddenly
getting an inkling that you had been there before.
Cursing, he backed from the stall, forcing his sluggish limbs to obey. By now,
the horses were wild around him. Both the escalating noise and the strangeness
of the boy drove him from the stables. The
wit ch was close. What did it matter if her horse lived? The wit ch would
never again see these stables.
Skirting the edge of town, Torwren crept toward the shadowy fringe of the
swamps. Ahead, a thousand creatures woke to the morning. He meant to circle
the town s border by traversing the swamp, staying cloaked by the night until
he discovered where his prey hid among this maze of shacks and rafts.
But first&
An older woman stood near a section of trampled-down reeds at the bank of the
swamp. She was busy pulling crab cages from the shallows. Her back was to him
as he crept up on her. Only at the last instant did she suspect something and
spin around. Her eyes widened with terror at the sight of his monstrous black
form, but before her horror reached her lips, one of Torwren s fists clamped
her throat. She dug at his flesh, tearing her nails on his hard skin. He did
not have time to play with her. A sharp snap and the battle was over. He
dragged her carcass over to the shade of a low-slung cypress.
Ripping open her chest, he fed quickly upon her. For a heart so old, it was
especially tender, but perhaps his appreciation was exaggerated from supreme
hunger. He feasted, then licked his fingers. Old or not, it warmed his core
and loosened his limbs. The fire in him was stoked for the last leg of his
long chase. He rolled the body into the water with a small splash. Let the
denizens of the swamp share in his bounty.
He straightened from his crouch and wiped his hands on his belly. It felt good
Page 233
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
to feed.
Suddenly, from a branch overhead, a snake struck at his face, but its
poisonous fangs broke upon the d warf s stone skin. The bright-colored viper
dropped dead onto the muddy bank of the swamp, having finally met something
more lethal than its own fangs.
The d warf ground the snake under his heel as he stepped into the swamp. Even
among these treacherous lands, nothing was more poisonous than the blood
hunter.
On the dock, Elena shied away from the swamp child. The boy stood shorter than
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]