Raven's Strike

Something hit Phoran in the chest with the force of a kicking war stallion. He stumbled back, and the half wall hit the backs of his legs. If the power the wizard had thrown at him had lost any of its force he might have still been all right, but it just kept pushing him until he tipped off the edge.

“We can’t run,” Tier told Hi

“You can’t win,” Hi

“Nevertheless,” said Tier collecting his sword and lute—a Bard needed a lute upon occasion. “My children need me.”

“You are the world’s only hope,” said Hi

Seraph slipped the tigereye ring over her finger. “Sometimes sacrifice is necessary,” she said. “Sometimes. But everyone is not always asked to make the same sacrifice, Hi

The strain of yesterday showed on her face. Her cheeks were hollow, as if she had not been eating well for months, dark circles ringed her eyes, and her hair was mussed in its braids. Tier thought she was beautiful.

“The temptation in fighting,” Tier told Hi

“Yes,” said Hi

Seraph and He

Tier shook his head at the wizard as he tightened Skew’s cinch. “We ca

Jes came. “Papa?” He stiffened, looked at Seraph, and the Guardian asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Willon is here,” said Tier. “It looks as though he might have taken Lehr and the rest.”

The Guardian drew a deep breath. “I want to go after them.”

“No,” said Hi

“Go,” said Tier, knowing full well that he might be sending his son to his death. “We’ll follow as fast as we can. We’ll head straight to the Owl’s temple.”

The Guardian flowed into wolf form, shook himself once, as if to get a feeling for the shape of the wolf, then ran.

Hi

“No,” said Seraph. The rage she felt was so strong her voice shook with it. “Jes is almost immune to magic. He’ll buy us the time we need to get there.”

“I’m ready,” said He

“Wait,” said Hi

“You’ve never failed me,” said He

Hi

“Wizards can’t change form,” said Tier. “Not even Ravens.”

“Hi

Ri

Something cold grabbed her by the shoulder and jerked her to her feet. “Fly, Cormorant,” hissed the Memory in her ear. “Fly!”

And he threw her off the tower as the Shadowed screamed his rage after her.

The winds that had been comforting her ever since Ielian had dumped her on the floor of the guard tower caught at her hands and feet.

Trust us, they said, and then, like Phoran’s Memory they said, fly, Cormorant, fly!

And she did.

“Help Phoran,” she demanded of her winds and they let her speed down the tower, down the cliff, all but falling so that she didn’t lose sight of him. She landed, overbalanced, and then tripped and stumbled, trying to keep her feet. She landed on her knees not ten feet from Phoran’s body. She didn’t bother to stand up, just crawled to where he lay.

There’s no blood, she thought, surely there would be blood if the winds hadn’t obeyed her fast enough. If he was dead there should be blood. But if he wasn’t dead, he should be breathing, shouldn’t he?

“Phoran?” she said.

His eyes popped open in an almost comic expression of surprise. He still didn’t seem to be breathing, but he rolled to a seated position. His eyes watering, he sucked in air shallowly—and Ri

“You’ve just had the breath knocked out of you,” she said. “You’ll be all right.”

“The Shadowed is coming,” said the Memory from somewhere just behind her.

Phoran, still not breathing quite right, got to his feet. Ri

Ielian wasn’t going to be stabbing anyone again.

She turned away, but was caught by Phoran’s hand briefly. “Wait. He had an amulet—no, don’t look.”

He left her for a moment and returned, shaking his head. “No use,” he said taking her hand again and setting off at a jog.

“What were you looking for?” Ri

“An amulet that was supposed to release the Shadowed’s spell.”

“How did you break free?”

He smiled at her, though his eyes were tired. “No one commands an emperor,” he said. “It is unbelievable, inconceivable.”

Ri

“His spell was an illusion,” said Phoran helpfully. “When I didn’t believe it anymore, I could move.”

“He hurt some people before he took me,” Ri

Phoran’s hands tightened on hers. “Rufort’s dead. Kissel, I think, will be all right. I bandaged Gura, but he’d lost a lot of blood.”

“Look, there’s Lehr,” said Phoran.

Ri

“The Shadowed is coming after us,” Phoran told her brother. “We need to get out of here.”

Being able to breathe again made Phoran more aware of his surroundings, so he saw Toarsen and Kissel before they saw him. Toarsen had managed a more professional bandage than Phoran had taken time for, and Kissel was on his feet.