The Children of Urdis (Grimwold and Lethos Book 2) (40 page)

"Put this into my pack," Syrus said. He had worn an empty pack for just this reason. He could carry this oversized book on his back and then gather the rest in his arms. The weight of it as Valda slid it into the sack yanked Syrus upright. "Now replace the lid and the books, in case Avulash should come back here."

When it was completed, they shared a glance. Valda was so unlike her brother. In her eyes he saw no fear, only an icy determination. He could follow someone like this, but never a weakling like Thorgis. Syrus gathered the other books into his arms, still unable to take everything he wanted.

"I will go first," she said, and drew her sword. It seemed small and useless for what they faced, but the blade rang as it exited the sheath and gave Syrus some grim hope of cutting a way out if they were trapped.

They padded back down the halls, their candles providing a guttering light barely enough to show two steps ahead. When they reached the exit to the courtyard where Eldegris was killed, they had still met nothing. Valda paused at the doors, blowing out her candle.

"There was a patrol of those slaves," she whispered. "They might be returning now. We must be careful."

Syrus nodded, his mouth all full of cotton. He still forced the quip from his lips, if even just to lighten his own mood. "Careful? I'm ready to sprint for the ship and row like mad."

Valda didn't smile, but continued to scan the wreckage of the courtyard. At last she started out, and Syrus followed.

The walls filled with the dark, squat bodies of the slaves. They scrambled up, their red and black faces leering down at them. The cracks in the shattered curtain walls filled with them, all as silent as ghosts. Syrus guessed nearly a hundred of these strange things hemmed them into the courtyard.

"Dog shit," Valda hissed through her clenched teeth. "They were toying with us."

"That I was," answered a mocking, sibilant voice. Syrus looked up to the walls, and a man just like the Tsal that had hunted him through Tsaldalr appeared among his slaves. He wore the same armor and had the same cruel beauty, though Syrus now knew that up close it would dissolve to something cold and inhuman.

"If you've a mind to kill me," Valda shouted up to him, "I'll remind you that you've failed twice already."

"No distractions now, my queen." The Tsal put one foot on the edge of the wall and leaned on his knee. Syrus knew this must be the captain of the white ark, Avulash. "I've known you've returned since you entered the mists. While I may not see beyond them, anything that enters is revealed to my sight. You came seeking knowledge. A desperate plan, indeed, if you dared rob me in my own home."

Syrus clutched the books harder to his chest. Eldegris's book on his back now weighed like a stone tablet.

"But here is my offer to you, my queen" Avulash continued. "I am more interested in your companions than you. You are a small fish. Yet, even small fish have their uses--as chum, for instance. I will let your book-thieving companion return to those Manifested with a message from me. I have their queen in my custody, and if they wish her to live then they will surrender to me. If they do that, then I will take all my people and retreat from this land."

"You can't trust what he says," Syrus whispered. Avulash laughed at the comment, stunning Syrus into silence.

"Can anyone's words be trusted? The Manifested will be a gift for my king. I might be able to persuade him to give preference to your people, such is the value of that gift. Surely trading two lives for the benefit of many is a worthy trade?"

Valda turned to Syrus, giving the faintest glance at the book sagging on his back. She nodded, and Syrus knew he had to accept her choice. He had given his word.

"Syrus will be allowed safe travel back?"

"If not, then how will my message be received?" Avulash stepped back and put both hands on his hips. "Your ship and crew awaits you. They've no idea what has happened. Walk down to the shore, board your ship, and deliver my message. The queen will be my guest while I await the arrival of the two Manifested. If they do not appear to me in three days, I will kill her and continue to collect slaves as I have. It is a poorer gift for my king than the Manifested, but it will serve."

"I agree," Valda said, her voice barely audible. Yet Avulash clapped his hands in pleasure.

"Drop the books you carry," Avulash said. "Then return to your ship. I will watch you go, and nothing will befall you where I can see you."

Syrus placed them all on the ground and faced Valda to say his farewell. In that instant, his heart sank and his head grew hot. He had shown his pack to Avulash.

"Leave the pack as well," he said. "You think I did not know you wore it?"

The book slid to the ground with a soft clop on the hard earth. Syrus stared at the pack for a long moment before turning back toward the road to the shore, alone and in defeat.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Lethos rushed after Grimwold, who sprinted across the open fields toward the giant that had burst from the edge of the forest. The monster stood as tall as the highest pine tree, its body contorted as if the parts had only been roughly joined. It was naked and its flesh showed a vile gray covered with wiry hair. It was bald, though it had a shaggy beard wagging from its chin. Lethos noticed a passing similarity to Grimwold in the shape of its features. The wind had gusted hard enough to blow dead leaves and debris into the air, but its roar drowned out any sound as it lumbered ahead.

The giant tore up another pine tree and held it like a club in both hands. Clods of dirt sprinkled from the tangle of roots as it whirled the tree overhead. The last tree it had hurled like a spear, and three dead people lay beneath it while the others had scampered away.

"It feels like you," Grimwold called back as he ran. "I can sense a connection to it."

"And it looks like you," Lethos called back. "Avulash used our blood to make this."

They both outstripped Blund's warriors who were rushing out to greet the beast. Blund was at the front, sword and shield ready. Lethos wished he could warn off Blund and his warriors, for he doubted their weapons would prevail against Tsal sorcery. Yet he knew their code would not allow retreat, and he could not he deny them their right to defend their homes. Blund shouted a war cry that his men echoed.

"Let's bring this bastard to his knees," Grimwold said as he halted in the field.

The giant's dark eyes were wide with excitement as it scanned the layout before it. It clacked its teeth together as it seemed to consider where next to spread mayhem. It slammed the tree into the ground, shaking the earth as it did, and plodded forward at Grimwold. Lethos arrived right behind him as the giant's first steps shuddered the ground.

"Stop!" Grimwold shouted. Lethos felt the tight pull of magical power shoot from between his eyes into Grimwold's head. He spared no power, and Lethos did not doubt it would take all they had to penetrate that giant's will.

A cold trickle on Lethos's spine warned him to pull Grimwold aside. In the next instant, the giant, which seemed unaware of their presence until this instant, leapt feet-first at their position. Were it not for Lethos's own augmented strength, he would not have been able to pull Grimwold to safety. They narrowly avoided being crushed underfoot as the ground shook and the giant howled with delight.

"I command you to stop," Grimwold shouted again.

An itching burn formed between Lethos's eyes as Grimwold hurled more of his power at it, but the creature only roared in irritation. It checked the soles of its feet, and whined in dissatisfaction when it found nothing crushed beneath them.

"It has our blood," Lethos shouted. "And probably our immunity to our own powers."

Grimwold stood beneath the roaring giant as calmly as if he were minding a misbehaving child. He drew his sword in answer to Lethos's observation.

Neither Grimwold nor Lethos could harm one another. Their magic prevented it. Grimwold could not dominate Lethos's will, and Lethos could never so much as slap Grimwold without his blow going wide. Whatever made it so Manifested Dyads could not harm each other seemed to have passed with the use of their blood. The giant shrugged off domination attempts with contempt.

The monster now glared at them, but gave an evil grin as Blund and dozens of his warriors arrived. He turned from them and with two massive strides was away and meeting the mass of attackers.

"They're going to be killed," Lethos said. "Order them away."

"They'd rather die than flee," Grimwold said. He drew his own sword and bounded after the giant.

With a careless one-handed swipe of the tree, the giant knocked aside Blund and his first line of men. The tree dragged and bounced along the ground, gouging the earth and wasting the force of the blow, yet men still screamed. Lethos hoped the cracking he heard was from shattering branches and not bone.

Grimwold leapt the final distance to the giant, his inhuman strength letting him jump higher and farther than any man. He held his sword in both hands like a spike, and landed a deep blow to the back of the giant's thigh.

Only Grimwold's strength carried the sword home, and the blade sank deep into the meat of the giant's leg. It screamed in anger and whirled on Grimwold with foamy spittle flying from its mouth. With one kick, it sent Grimwold sailing through the air and into the forest.

A human would have died from the kick and been torn to bits as he crashed through the trees. Yet Lethos watched, knowing Grimwold suffered little more than injured pride. He was still a Manifested, and precious few things could truly hurt him.

You will have to handle it, came Grimwold's thoughts. I have to get the sword from Thorgis. That will hack this thing to bits.

Handle it? Lethos thought back. You want me to call the Minotaur again? It gets more of a hold on me each time I do.

No it doesn't. Don't lie to me when I can see your heart. Grimwold's thoughts were a growl in his head. Lethos hated to rely on the beast, and feared losing himself to it more than anything else. Yet he watched the giant turn back to the warriors and raise his tree for another swipe.

He had to call the bull spirit. No one else was going to save these men. Lethos glared up at the storm clouds, wondering if the storm riders were watching and waiting for his reaction.

Well, let me show you what your blood magic can do.

His body was consumed in a burning fire and his vision went red. When he saw through the red haze again, he was now halfway up to the giant's waist. Black fur-covered arms rippling with muscles. The beast in him roared through his throat, and his horns itched to impale flesh. He indulged that feeling, plowing head-long into the massive body before him.

The giant answered with a surprised yelp, like a child having his toys snatched away. Lethos reveled in the relief of his horns impaling flesh. There was so much there, a rich field to tear and rip where blood would soak him. He lusted for that blood, delighted in the hot gush of it shooting down his horns.

The giant pounded him back, and but he took it in stride. The two behemoths now tangled together, and with each jab of his horns or slash from his claws he felt himself going deeper into the wild mind of the bull spirit that had joined with his own. When hunks of flesh came away in his hands, it was all he could do to not devour them and continue to fight. When the giant slammed him to the ground and jumped on him feet first, Lethos let the pain drive his killing-madness. He only came back stronger until he was on his cloven-hoofed feet again.

They staggered back and forth, Lethos feeling the throb of broken ribs as the giant pummeled him in desperation. The monster facing him was wide-eyed with fear and slathered with blood. Even though the giant looked down on him, Lethos had become a demon of murder that would not be intimidated by a larger opponent. He was not going to stop until the giant was nothing but bits of meat, and he was going to continue to kill until he was sated.

And nothing would sate his desire. Blood and death were all he craved.

The giant staggered back, and Lethos followed him down, his own sharp teeth now clacking together. He snorted out of his long snout and bit down on the giant's neck. Blood rushed into his mouth, but it tasted foul, repellent. He tore away the throat and a fountain of red jetted into the air. Yet Lethos fell aside from it as if it were poison.

He staggered back and collapsed to his knees. This was his blood, the blood of Grimwold, and probably the blood of scores of innocents. Nothing could be more disgusting.

The giant gurgled and wheezed and then went still. Lethos remained on his knees, holding his head in his hands and crying out like a lost calf. As fast as the bull spirit had come to his aid, it retreated in terror at the taste of its own blood, however diluted it was. Again he was blinded as he transformed down into his own body, then he fell to his side on the cold earth. The scent of it mixed with the scent of corrupted blood. The world was oddly silent but for the distant moaning of the injured.

He was naked and did not care. Blood rolled down his face into his mouth, making him spit involuntarily. Though a cold wind flowed over him, his body grew hot as the broken bones reformed beneath his flesh. After a few still moments, it was as if he had never been hurt.

A rough woolen cloak settled over his body. He lifted his head from the ground and saw Grimwold squatting beside him, a smile on his face.

"I only saw the end of it, but let me say, I'm glad you cannot attack me like that. I don't think even a dragon could stand against you when the beast is in control."

Lethos blinked, then sat up and pulled the cloak tighter around his shoulders. Grass clung to his bloodied face. "I don't know if I should take it as a compliment."

"Thorgis has left us." Grimwold looked aside and Lethos sensed his shame. "He took the sword with him."

"Why didn't you command it from him when you had the chance?"