The Children of Urdis (Grimwold and Lethos Book 2) (21 page)

"A moment of bravery," Avulash sneered. "How inspiring, but ultimately wasted."

He clamped his hand to the wound and now the blood pumped like it chugged from a spilled keg. Lethos blinked in shock. Maybe bravery was overrated after all. He was rapidly losing his strength, and Avulash was growing hot beneath him.

The tool. He jammed it into Avulash's forearm. The gleaming silver screw drove through the thin arm as Lethos plunged it home. Avulash pulled away with a shriek. The screw began to spin wildly until it had drilled down to the part that had seemed little more than pliers. Yet somehow the pliers had activated and expanded wider, and now it sprang down on his forearm like a clamp. It bit into his flesh so hard Lethos could hear the bone snap.

Avulash dropped his sword and grasped at the tool that was grinding into his flesh. This was some sort of torture device, Lethos was sure. He did not waste time studying it, but scooped up the sword.

His flesh seared at its touch. Lethos half expected this, but still the pain was more than he could handle. He had only a moment with the blade. He struck down.

The entire ship rocked.

Lethos's hand smoked from the burns. Rather than impale Avulash through the chest, the blade sank into the deck. Avulash had been flung away. Lethos could not endure any more, though he wanted to withdraw the blade. Holding it had steadied him when the jolt came, but now he had to release.

Everything in the room flew to one side. Lamps sailed through the air. Tools spun away. Tables overturned. Valda pitched against the wall and Grimwold's body slid off the table and rolled. Avulash was screaming as the torture device ripped into his arm, spraying blood as if he were being torn apart by frenzied sunbirds.

The ship rocked again, and the deafening sounds of crushing wood and cracking beams filled the room. Now everything hurtled in the opposite direction. The gleaming tools shot through the air, and Lethos flattened out to avoid them. Avulash's shrill screams filled his ears. Everything slammed against the other wall. Valda and Grimwold piled into each other while Avulash slid across the floor leaving a carpet of blood behind him. His gleaming sword remained sunk into the deck, its violet light dimmed.

A fire had started where the oil lamps spilled. Lethos rolled past one puddle of flame so close it almost singed his face. He crashed into the opposite wall like everything else in the room.

Avulash had gotten to his feet despite the turbulence. Blood coated his arm as the metal screw protruded from it. His face was drawn and even whiter than before. Lethos wanted to laugh, but he was tangled in a pile with a table fallen over him for good measure. The rocking had stopped, and though his body did not hurt, he was weak from the sudden loss of blood. He couldn't laugh yet.

The deck floor exploded open, shattered wood and ocean water flying everywhere. The noise was incredible, as if an entire forest had snapped in half in one go. A gigantic beak pushed in through the opening, and sea water began to flood in.

"I don't know how to swim," Lethos said, too calmly for the madness surrounding him. He had nearly drowned once before when tied to the mast of a sinking ship. This time, Kafara was not around to drag him to safety.

The beak retreated into the water, leaving behind a spray of green ocean. The entire deck floor was already covered with water, lifting the burning oil to its surface. Lethos threw the table aside with a splash. Avulash stood holding his arm, staring at the breach in terror. Lethos found Valda facedown in the water, and he dragged her up. Grimwold sat against the wall like a stone-cold drunk.

With another juddering crash, the beak smashed a second hole. Avulash fled into the next room as giant tentacles shot through the widened breach. They began flailing, seeking whatever they could find. There were four tentacles, and one immediately coiled about Grimwold.

Lethos sought Avulash's sword, but it had been knocked away in the chaos. Cold, foamy water was now above Lethos's ankles as he sloshed through it toward Grimwold. He hadn't come this far to lose him to a sea monster.

The ship rocked, but not as violently. Above decks, he heard muffled screams and heavy thuds. A tentacle lashed around his waist, cold and slimy, and cinched his arms to his sides. He screamed now, again wishing for the bull spirit to take hold of him. Valda too had been scooped up, but she was barely able to do more than give a girlish scream. The last tentacle lashed around, seeking what had to be Avulash.

Lethos struggled, but his strength was nothing to this beast. The final tentacle snaked into the other room. Over the roar of flooding water and snapping wood he heard Avulash's muffled scream.

He had promised to reveal something powerful enough to fry all Manifested for miles. It could only be wild stone, and Lethos was held in place to receive the full brunt of it. He screamed in frustration as the tentacle hoisted him into the air.

Avulash shouted again, and Lethos suddenly felt as if he were standing inches from a blazing fire.

The tentacles reacted as well. Before Lethos could do more, he and all the others were snapped into the cold water. It did nothing to relieve the burning. Whatever held them shot through the ocean with incredible speed. The water pressure tore at Lethos's face as this creature raced away with him in its coiled grip. He closed his eyes against the water and pressed his mouth shut. The burning only intensified.

When he thought he would pass out from lack of air, he suddenly broke the surface. He flew through the air until he crashed upon a beach. Grimwold flopped nearby. Smoke was rising from Grimwold's body, faint in the morning twilight. Lethos looked to his own arms and found them smoking as well.

In the next instant a massive gray eagle exploded from the ocean. Water streamed off its back in great falls. In one talon it clutched Valda's bedraggled body. Smoke trailed behind it as it unerringly flew toward the shore.

"Kafara!" Lethos shouted. He expected Turo to burst from beneath the waves as well, but perhaps he was still attacking the ship. Turo had always been the stubborn aggressor.

Lethos had never been so glad to lie down as the massive talons scooped both him and Grimwold off the beach. They collapsed together in the eagle's grip. The pain of the burning made it impossible for him to do more than groan. But now the giant eagle beat its smoking wings with incredible power and they swept away from the source of the burning, the eagle screaming in pain and anger.

Lethos held onto the talons and felt the heat lessen with every beat of the wings.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Lethos blew out a long breath when the burning relented. Waves of beautifully cold air bathed him as the eagle clutching him in its talons lowered to the earth. A cool, refreshing patch of grass not yet turned completely brown met him as the eagle deposited him and Grimwold into a pile. Valda tumbled out of the other talon with a squeal. The wind from the eagle's beating wings flattened the grass as it pulled away. Hazel trees stripped bare from the approach of winter bent as the giant eagle descended. Lethos smiled, spreading his arms out onto the cold, damp ground. It felt wonderful not to burn.

The glade where they had landed was contemplative and still, so unlike the chaos he had left behind at the ship. His eardrums still throbbed from the noise and stress of it. He was content to close his eyes and smell the clean forest scents. Birds chirped somewhere, welcoming the autumn dawn. All he needed now was something hot to eat, a savory rabbit stew would be perfect. He could taste the tender meat as he stretched out his legs.

Whatever burns he had sustained began to heal. He felt the tingle of power flicking between himself and Grimwold's inert body and his skin tightened as it renewed. He expected Turo to be along any moment, and opened one eye to search for the second giant eagle following them. Yet he saw nothing but a pale blue sky streaked with thin clouds.

"What ... what was that?" Valda sat up, her yellow hair scraggly and matted to her head and her black clothes torn so that her pale flesh nearly glowed against it. "I don't understand what happened."

"We were rescued by friends," Lethos said. He sat up as well, holding out both palms as the blisters on his hands sank and faded. "You remember the giant eagles from the war of the trolls? Now you've met them personally."

She raised her knees to her chest and rested her forehead there. Lethos crawled to Grimwold and flipped him over. He was naked but for his loincloth and his burned flesh was fading to pink. His eyes remained closed as if he were in a deep dream and the black ink-spill over his chest had spread wider. Whorls of greenish black now crawled up to the base of his neck. Seeing the mark made the sympathetic pain in his own chest throb. He patted the spot and leaned in to whisper.

"Kafara is back now. She'll know what to do. Don't worry."

Grimwold did not stir. His dark hair and beard curled with the sea water still clinging to him. Lethos was feeling much better now, knowing help had finally arrived. He struggled to his feet, then bounced on his toes with a smile despite all that had transpired. Kafara had sunk the white ark, hadn't she? The threat was finished, though he would still have to keep his promise to Valda. There would be trouble in the islands without a High King to hold them together. The barbarians could always be counted on to fight for any reason, even among themselves if no external enemies were handy. Still, Lethos stretched and prided himself on his role in salvaging the situation. While he hadn't sunk the ark himself, he was confident Kafara had been able to find it so readily because he had--somewhat foolishly, but nevertheless courageously--infiltrated the storm riders' ship. She had focused on him, as she always seemed able to do. He led them to their targets. Otherwise, if Avulash had released that wild stone earlier, none of them would have been able to approach. The last of the blisters on his skin were a testament to that truth.

"I'll be right back," he told Valda. He headed to where he saw Kafara land and transform. He scanned the sky for Turo's return, but the only bird he saw was a tiny black speck flitting above the bare trees. He frowned, stumbled on a stone, then paid more attention to his footing. At last he came to the figure sprawled in the grass.

There were two bodies.

Both were naked and lay side by side in rigid poses, arms tight to their sides. Lethos stared at them, vaguely rubbing his chin and blinking hard. How could there be two bodies? Only Kafara had come to his aid.

"Lethos, come closer." Turo's voice shocked him into acknowledging what he saw. It was both Turo's and Kafara's naked bodies lying in the grass. Kafara was hardly recognizable but for her long hair. Her left eye had been completely gouged away and a ragged cut hung down her cheek. Her body was thin and shrunken, as if she had been starved for a month. Turo did not look much better, but at least he extended his arm and repeated his request.

"What happened?" Lethos asked as he knelt beside Turo. "Did the wild stone do this to you?"

Turo shook his head. His eyes were barely open, as if he were fighting a deep sleep. "Kafara is dead, and I will follow."

Lethos blinked. He stared at Turo who struggled to keep his eyes open. "What? Impossible."

He refused to look at Kafara's body again and see the missing eye. Maybe if he didn't look it wouldn't be true. Turo grabbed his shirt with a weak hand. "She was murdered. Myrakka and Kelata did this." He paused and smiled. "But they got a taste of my fury."

"Who is Myrtle and Kettle?" Turo frowned and Lethos knew he had heard the names incorrectly. Everything sounded as if it were coming from far away.

"I failed you," Turo said. "I spent the last of my stored power to do what I did, but it was not enough."

"You saved my life, again, I might add." Lethos's vision was beginning to blur and his eyes grew hot. "You can't die. I thought our kind cannot be killed."

Turo's chuckle became a cough. "Ask Grimwold if he believes we cannot die. He sits at the edge of death right now."

Lethos couldn't help but look back at his friend's prone body. Was everyone dying? Would he die as well? "What is happening to him, Turo? What can I do for him?"

The silence stretched, and Turo stared up at the sky. Lethos shook him, believing he had died, but Turo blinked. "All of our kind are born above a stone that can be turned into a weapon against us. Kafara found and hid some of Grimwold's stone, but yet enough remained to be used against him. An arrowhead made of stone taken from the site of his birth has pierced him. It will eventually kill him, unless removed."

"I tried to, but the wound kept closing and the arrowhead sucked back into it. It won't come out."

Turo shook his head. "Bring him to me. I still have a bit of power yet."

Lethos did not hesitate, but scooped up Grimwold and ran him back to Turo. Valda stared listlessly after him, but he heard her crunching through the grass as he set Grimwold beside Turo, who now sat up beside Kafara's dead body. A flash of heat emanated from him as his two hands began to twist and extend. Bones cracked and flesh tore, but Turo watched impassively as his hands transformed into two claws. Talons like black knives extended from his fingers, and he leaned over Grimwold's body.

"A wound from my claws will not instantly heal. I can remove the arrowhead, but the wound must be closed and cared for. I don't know of another of our kind to survive a wound from his birth stone as Grimwold has. Maybe I will kill him with my clumsy prodding."

Lethos swallowed hard. "Is that black mark from the stone?" Turo shrugged as if he did not know. "Well, it is spreading. I don't think we have time to wait for someone with experience. If he's going to die, then better it happen now."

"There is a time for all living things, even those who count their lives by the centuries. Remember that, my friend. Our siblings have forgotten this truth, and go to war believing themselves immortal."