A Skillful Warrior (SoulNecklace Stories Book 2) (25 page)

N’tombe glared at me. Light haloed her head, so her face looked like the center of a sun. ‘Remember: you are no man’s sacrifice, Lady.’

I nodded. Soon the fire would be upon us. I pushed her away. ‘Go!’

In a trice she returned to her body, grabbed Will and pulled him from his horse. She heaved him up stone steps into an empty cave-house. He thrashed against her, refusing to go, but I spun a thread of softness into his mind, a soothing thought of love and sorrow and he paused. At once, N’tombe’s will seized him and held him fast.

At the rear of the cave was a shelf and a storage closet, neatly pecked from the stone. She hauled him into the closet, packing him in as someone might stuff a body into a grave. I felt her mind reach out, pull the stone shelf down, over him, entombing him in rock. Dust blew from the mouth of the cave. He would be safe for a little time.

Now it was up to me. I turned to face the fire.

––––––––

B
ending low over his horse’s neck, TeSin clung like a burr. Together, man and horse raced from the flames, away from the noise and smoke. He looked up briefly as he left the clearing. Through the heat haze his eyes met mine, and for a moment I felt his heart and saw again through his eyes.

Then he was gone, and I stood alone in the middle of an empty valley. Dust swirled. Hair blew into my eyes, my mouth. Then came the sound, a crackling, like the popping of small bones. The wind blew heat into my face until I felt as though I stood before a roaring, thirsty oven. The sky turned black. Darkness grew. Smoke eddied, tossing glowing embers like fireflies. Some landed in the branches of the thornbush and the wood began to smolder. Soon, the fire would be on me.

I will not run!
I clenched my fists so tight that my nails cut into my palm.
You are no man’s sacrifice
,
Dana.

I swallowed, my throat tight with heat and panic. My pulse raced. Despite my brave thoughts I felt such fear that I could barely breathe.

Flames flickered at the canyon’s edges. Their roaring seemed to fill the world. Dimly, I heard dry laughter. The air shimmered with heat. Every breath seemed to burn.

Then, as though they had been only waiting for a signal, flames blasted into the clearing. They writhed and twisted, licking up the rock walls, their heat cracking the stones.

I held my wrist up to the fire.
Burn against the burning
, I thought to the beads.
Come on. Help me!

The flames roared across the clearing, encircled me. I was a mote, trapped in a fiery ring. All the world was smoke and flames and I could no longer see. My chest seared; I gasped, seeking air. There was no way out. At the edge of my vision, black figures danced.

Then the beads caught me, held me tight: Adianna and Phileas, Wynne, the story-teller. Suzanna and Rob, hands clasped. They entered me, and I gave myself to them. Their touch was smooth and calm and despite the chaos, I felt at peace. It was like stepping into a loved one’s embrace.
No matter what happens
, I thought,
this is where I belong.

In a long, slow moment, everything changed. I joined with the others within, until they were me and I was them and the boundaries between our souls were broken. I was no longer me, no longer Dana. Yet joined, we became the many, the Guardian: a shield against evil.

We burned and burned and did not care. We laughed at the flames and drew them into us. We became the fire.

Roaring our fury at the gathering darkness, we grew. No weapon could harm us; no ocean could drown. Fire did not burn, smoke could not smother and what cared we for the heat? If we wished, we could reach the stars!

We gathered the sparks towards us, blending with their heat, feeding on the blaze. Then, stretching, we soared into the smoke, away from the burning. We rose into the air above the smoke’s pall, where the sky was clear and the sun shone. Flung ourselves still higher, until we were far above the clouds and the sky seemed to darken; we could see the stars. Like a tiny marble the world rolled away below us, so beautiful, so small.

For a time we dwelt that way: Adianna, Phileas, Wynne, Rob, Suzanna and I, Dana. There was no Me — only Us. Dimly, we heard voices calling; Rosa. Others, too, gathered. Their faces, from the portrait gallery of the Castle, were familiar. Together, we became the whole.

We flew through the clouds like an eagle, soaring on wings filled with fire.

But something was seeking us; something old, malicious and infinitely evil. The Kamaye, long attuned to power. Darting into the sky like bats, they threw themselves at us, ripped at our flesh. Their teeth were long and pointed; their bodies were black.

Shocked from unity by pain, memory returned and we became just individuals: Phileas the songsmith; Adianna, Suzanna and Rob. Wynne, the storyteller. And I, Dana, wearing a bracelet about my wrist. I fell from the sky like a stone.

Light grew, golden against the sun, and I wrapped it up and drew it to myself, pulling the brightness inside me. The beads settled about my wrist. I reached out, felt for the spring and the mountains and the clouds that blew across the folded land and landed, soft as thistledown, on the dusty ground.

‘That’s my girl,’ said Phileas.

I stood in a burnt and blackened clearing in front of a smoking thorn tree.

Down they came, claws outstretched. Five creatures, long-necked like vultures but sharper-toothed and hissing like snakes. Screeching, they rushed towards me. I drew my blade, the gift from Will. One knife against five.

I faced them square-on. Time seemed to slow, so I could track the paths of dust motes through the air. I ducked under a creature’s claws, thrust the knife forward. The air shimmered as I thrust and the thing seemed to move, twisting as I stabbed. One moment it was there: the next, it had disappeared.

In an eye blink it returned, spinning from the empty air. Now it was an old man, clothed in black. He carried a staff and wore a sword thrust into a narrow scabbard at his side. His face had no expression, his skin was stretched tight across his face. He looked like a skull. He was hale, though; he flung the staff in a circle, thrusting it towards me as a man thrusts a spear. I drifted backwards, moving slowly, slowly. The air parted and let me through.

The ground trembled; the world flickered, changed. And now there were five black-robed men with skull faces, armed with swords and staves. But I still had only my knife.

‘And us,’ whispered Suzanna. ‘You have us.’

The beads flowed into me, gave me strength. I gathered the brightness of the world towards me, pulling it over me like a blanket, holding it as a shield.

One of them pulled a long sword from its scabbard. I caught the narrow tip of his blade on my knife and twisted under his raised arm, moving in towards him. He was fast, chopping down. I danced back, flowing into movements that felt as natural as breathing; the stances that I had practiced again and again in the darkness of the ship’s hold. But his blade was long and elegantly balanced and he wielded it like a master. I stepped into him, as if seeking his embrace. Plunged the knife into his chest. His eyes flickered. And he disappeared.

He reappeared, staring at me like the ghost of an evil dream, and his black cloak flared as he thrust his sword; I barely had time to parry. It slid past me with a sound like tearing silk.

Dimly, I noticed the others. They watched me warily, as if daring me to fail, but their black eyes followed every movement with great attention. Were they trying to predict what I would do next? I felt like a gladiator at a tournament where the outcome was already ordained.

The swordsman raised his blade, striking down. I stepped sideways, into the space beside him. He wasn’t expecting this. Too slow. I struck at him quickly, focusing my shield of light on him, entangling him in its brilliance so he could not move. And my blade bit on bone, and I twisted it, and he screamed. It was so strange to hear a sound from him that for a moment my hands loosened and I nearly dropped the knife.

He did not bleed. Blackness oozed from his side, foul smelling and silent, spreading on the ground. It smoked as it fell. He clutched at his wound with bony hands, moaning, screaming. Pawed at the air, and fell. His cloak settled over him.

The others stared at each other. I could feel their shock; never before had one of their number been worsted.

Hooves, pounding. Shingle scattering; a man shouting. TeSin, crouched low on the back of his horse, raced into the clearing. Distracted, my opponents turned their heads.

‘Lady!’

TeSin pulled arrows from his quiver, setting them against his bow. He moved quickly, yet to me he seemed leisurely, each action clean and clear and detached. Now he will set it to his face, I thought. Now he will draw the string. Loose the arrow.

A hiss as the shaft crawled through the air, towards one of my opponents.

A skull-face caught it on his sword, cutting it in two. Behind, TeSin’s horse neighed wildly. The animal reared, fighting the air with his hooves, screaming, then slowly it toppled onto its side, a sword wound across its belly. Leaping clear, TeSin faced the Kamaye.

I felt a strange sense of detachment, as though a part of me was an observer, tallying up the score; noting the weaknesses, the opportunities. TeSin would not be completely defenseless against such creatures, for he had been trained to see the world as I did — to mark the threads of energy that interlinked us all. He could fight like me, a little. But he was no match for me, not anymore; I had outgrown the Noyan. It felt strange to realize that I was more skilled than this warrior, despite all his experience.

TeSin sliced his sword across a Kamaye’s chest. It moved, twirling like a top, its black cloak lifting. TeSin staggered, swung away.

The Kamaye stared at each other and something seemed to flicker. For a brief moment they appeared undecided. Then they crouched, falling into themselves, their cloaks settling onto empty sand. With a harsh scream they leapt into the sky. Silhouetted against the setting sun, their black shapes looked like bats or birds of prey.

––––––––

W
ill looked like an old man. Fine dust had caught in his jerkin, his hair, settled into the creases of his skin. Then he smiled, just a slight lift of his lips and I smiled back and stepped towards him. We clung to each other, and we were just Will and Dana, together. His heart pounded against mine and his soft sweet breath grazed my cheek.

N’tombe surveyed the clearing, the crumpled piles of clothing, the scattered weaponry. Flies buzzed about the dead horse. ‘I have seen nothing like this, ever.’ She picked up the sword of the one I’d killed. It was long and curiously light.

‘Special weapon,’ TeSin gasped, a hand pressed to his side. ‘Take care.’

N’tombe put it down. ‘What were they?’

Wincing, TeSin sat up. ‘They Kamaye.’

‘You have seen them before?’

He shook his head, then nodded. ‘Yes. No.’ He looked at me. ‘Once, maybe. Usually, they hide.’

‘The Kamaye? They’re only a myth,’ Will spoke loudly, as if trying to deny what he’d just seen.

I had thought that the fae were only a legend until I had seen one rip the head off an invader.

‘I had no idea,’ N’tombe looked troubled. ‘They are so ...’ she shuddered.

‘Evil,’ I said. ‘There is nothing good in them. Nothing.’

TeSin stared at the sword. The tip of the blade was so thin it was almost invisible. He shook his head. ‘I think: stories cannot be true. Men, fly like bird? Not possible. Now I know different.’

‘You came back for me,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’

He seemed embarrassed. ‘Is nothing.’

I looked at his tired face. ‘No,’ I said softly. ‘It is not nothing. Thank you.’

We didn’t want to stay in this clearing that smelt of smoke and death, but at least here we had water and a cave. Besides, TeSin was injured.

‘Better to rest, wait for the morrow,’ said N’tombe.

We clambered up to the cave. Panting at the steep slope, TeSin leant heavily on Will. Once inside, he flopped to the ground and lay for a time, saying nothing. The air inside the cave felt cooler than the open clearing, and there was a slight draft, so there must be another outlet higher up. Strewn against the back wall like children’s toys, rocks formed a rough pile.

Will regarded them somberly. ‘I did that.’

‘How?’

‘Trying to get out of that bloody hole.’

‘Hole?’

He gestured towards the rear of the cave. For a moment I couldn’t see what he was pointing at. Then, as my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw the cavity in the rock.

‘It’s a storage locker,’ I said. ‘I guess it was for keeping food and so on.’

‘And so on,’ said Will bitterly. ‘I thought I was going to suffocate. That opening was so small.’

‘At least you did not burn,’ said N’tombe.

‘Why didn’t you run? I meant for you to take the horses and leave,’ I said.

‘How could I keep Will safe from the back of a horse?’ N’tombe sounded annoyed. ‘You know how I ride.’

‘
I
can ride,’ said Will indignantly.

She smiled at him. ‘Yes, but you would have fought against me, would you not?’

He glared at her.

We sat at the cave mouth looking out at the clearing below. I would have liked to have a fire to drive away the shadows, but there was no fuel; everything flammable had burned away in the firestorm. As the sun slid below the cliffs, the rocks blazed red, and for a time the world was beautiful.

The skin on my hands and feet were raw, my back felt like a long strip of agony. N’tombe soaked scraps of cloth in water and laid them on the burns, and the cold water helped to ease the stings.

With his dust-streaked hair, Will looked like a madman. He had been injured too; he had deep grazes on his knees and elbows where he’d crouched in the stone locker, his fingertips were bruised and scratched and two nails of his left hand had pulled sheer away from his fingers.