The Healer's Legacy (6 page)

Leathery wings beat at the wet sky, and Vaith circled overhead. The monster flung its arm out and slapped the wyvern from the air. Vaith screeched as he thudded to the ground. Kira searched the darkness for him, but the monster lunged at her, forcing her back toward the river.

Trad had danced his way behind the hulking mass, his hooves sinking in the muddy riverbank as the storm raged on. The creature crouched to spring at Kira and Trad whinnied loudly, raising his forefeet to strike at the monster’s back. It whirled on him, swiping at the horse’s legs with vicious claws. Kira dove in again, thrusting the blade deep into its lower back and wrenching the knife upward. The blade sliced through with a sickening sound and the beast howled, reaching behind to claw at its back. It spun around, wrenching itself away from Kira’s blade and struck at her.

She dodged sideways, but a heavy fist struck her face. The blow knocked her to the muddy bank. Her head reeled and the knife flew from her hand as she fell. She reached for the blade and the creature pounced. Kelmir dove past her. The beast tumbled back with the cat on top of him. They rolled over one another, screams mixing with the thunder, bodies silhouetted against flashes of lightning that tore from the sky. Kelmir clung to the monster’s torso, his teeth sunk deep into its right arm. Trad leaped to the side as the two plowed past him. Whirling quickly around, he struck out, hooves flashing. Kelmir hung on. His claws raked across his adversary’s chest while the beast struggled to ward off the blows of Trad’s hooves.

Kira’s face burned with pain. A part of her wanted to give up, to let the struggle end here. But somewhere deep inside her a sense of purpose welled up and she knew she must overcome this beast, or die trying. Her fingers found the knife. She grasped it by the hilt and gritted her teeth in resolve.  Heaving to her feet, she stumbled toward the fighting, the knife raised overhead. She searched for an opening, but neither Trad nor Kelmir slackened their attack. Kira stood ready. The monster rolled away from Trad and its head appeared on the ground before her. She stabbed desperately at its eyes and the sharp blade slid deep into soft tissue.

The beast lashed at its face and wailed. Kelmir gave it one last shake, then let go. The monster lay dead. With a sideways step, Kelmir moved cautiously away, circling the beast’s carcass, watching for movement.

Dizziness danced inside Kira’s head. Her skull was afire. She swayed for a moment. Her legs weakened and gave out. She fell on her knees in the mud and sobbed. Cold rain ran down her face as she raised the knife and stabbed it into the mud, over and over, until her arm shook and the pain and fury burst out of her in a ragged scream.

The rain poured down. Her breathing slowed and became more regular. She took a few deep breaths, blowing them out through her mouth. Trad stood over the creature, his body quivering with exhaustion. Kelmir crouched nearby, watching her, the tip of his tail flicking back and forth. Kira glanced around, searching for Vaith. A whistling chirp came faintly from above and she turned toward the rocks that had blocked their path.

Vaith stood on the edge of the slide nearest the cliff, his eyes glowing dimly in the distance. He tugged at her with his mind. Kira tried to reach out to him, but a heavy darkness clotted her brain. She crawled over to the rocks and used them to pull herself up. She leaned back against the rocks and turned her hot face to the icy rain, letting it cool the fire in her head.

Another chirrup brought her attention back to Vaith. She turned toward him, reaching out with one arm to lean against the rocks as she walked toward the cliff. A bolt of lightning lit the sky, outlining the mouth of a cave. Blackness rose up before her and she thought she was going to faint, but she kept moving toward the dark spot in the side of the cliff. She knew there could be danger, knew she should move carefully, but she was exhausted. If more danger lurked inside, she was too weak to fight it. They all were.

She kept moving, dragging her feet like someone drunk or under the influence of madweed. When she reached the mouth of the cave, she turned back to call the others, but her throat was raw, and all she could do was croak out the words so low she couldn’t hear her own voice. Kelmir stood up and walked over to Trad, nudging the big horse’s flank. Trad moved obediently, as if he had no will of his own. Vaith perched on the brink of the rocks. Kira nodded once, then stumbled into the cave.

CHAPTER FIVE

Kira crept forward, brushing her fingertips against the rough cave wall to guide her. A few steps in from the opening, she stopped, repelled by the stench of animal musk and rot. There was no way to tell how far back the cavern extended, but she had no intention of exploring. She wanted only to rest. She sank down, but caught herself at the scrape of Trad’s hooves on the stony floor. He needed to be unsaddled and she needed to check him and the others for wounds.

She led Trad beside the wall and loosened his girth. After sliding off his saddle and halter, she rubbed feebly at his back with the wet saddle blanket. She stroked his flanks in the darkness, then ran her hands lightly over his chest and down each leg. He had a number of scratches, but none that seemed too deep. But she would have to wait until daylight to perform a more thorough examination.

Kelmir sat near the mouth of the cave. As she leaned over him a dark shadow swooped in through the cave entrance. Startled, she lost her balance and landed hard on the dirt floor. She heard a small thud and the scrabbling of claws beside her. Vaith. She tried to see into his mind, but the mental effort was too much for her. She reached out her hand and he waddled toward her. His left wing hung awkwardly out to the side. He allowed her to gently search for injuries, but squawked in pain as the tips of her fingers brushed against a rip in the fragile membrane of his wing. The wound was minor and, luckily, a straight tear that would mend well, but it would be a while before Vaith regained his normal grace and speed in the air.

She turned her attention to Kelmir. The big cat stood still as she sat beside him, running her fingers along his back and legs. He flinched from her touch, but she didn’t feel any broken bones. The shallow cuts and scratches he had could be best cared for by his own ministrations. Kira leaned her back against the wall. The stone was rough and hard and she was cold and wet, but it was a relief to be out of the incessant rain.

She let herself slide down, curled up on the stony floor, and peered into the depths of the cave. Flashes of lightning illuminated only the first few feet in from the opening, but despite the weight of the looming darkness, she could feel the space open up around her. She wondered if her voice would bounce back at her if she spoke, or if the gloomy corners would gobble up the sound of her words. She remained silent, unwilling to find out.

A shiver ran through her and she drew up her knees and hugged herself. Outside, the storm still raged. Against the intermittent flashes of light in the sky beyond the mouth of the cave, Kelmir was a shadowy wraith, circling in front of the opening as he prepared to lie down. Kira turned away and closed her eyes. Her head ached and she was cold and sore and tired. Her hunger seemed a distant echo. A buzzing started inside her head and she drifted off, the clicking sound of Kelmir’s sharp claws on the stony floor growing distant and hazy.

* * *

Kira opened her eyes, wincing in pain at the light before quickly shutting them again. Light? She raised a hand to shield her eyes. Pale rays of daylight spilled into the cave. Water still dripped from the rocky overhang, but the dark clouds had lightened to a silvery gray and a pale blue streak of morning sky was visible on the horizon beyond the river.

Her damp clothes clung to her. She shivered in the cold of the shadowy cave and rolled her neck to ease the stiffness, gasping when a burst of pain shot across the side of her head. Gently, she put her hands to her face. The left side was tender and swollen. She worked her jaw gently back and forth. Nothing broken, but the pain was fresh and raw. She moaned and sat up, testing her joints and muscles in what had become a daily ritual, an intimate survey to see how much damage had been done the day before.

Kelmir lay just inside the cave mouth. His ears twitched in her direction as she stirred, and he opened one eye to a narrow slit. Trad stood against the opposite wall, sleeping, his breathing slow and steady.

Kira swallowed hard. Her throat was ragged and her lips burned. How can I be so thirsty after spending hours in the rain? she thought, squinting against the brightness. The rushing river called to her and she pushed herself to her feet. Head throbbing, she staggered out of the cave.

She caught her breath as she emerged into the light and saw the dead creature lying in her path. It was huge and foul. The rain had washed much of the body clean, but dried mud and blood still matted its fur in places. She stared at the gray skin and thick bony ridging along its spine in startled recognition. A rock troll. She’d heard stories, gory descriptions of ten-foot tall beasts that could shred a human with one swipe of its vicious claws, but she’d never seen one. The dark and the rain had been as much good luck as bad. If she had known what they were fighting— Kira closed her eyes. No. She and her companions would have fought just as hard, no matter the danger, or the size of their foe.

She gaped at the beast. The troll’s stature, much less than ten feet by Kira’s reckoning, was far from the height such creatures were supposed to reach as adults. Perhaps the stories she’d heard had been exaggerated.

But, what if they weren’t? She shuddered. Trolls were supposed to be territorial, but what if there were more of them about. If this one wasn’t full grown—

She skirted the body slowly, careful not to touch it. Her reasoning mind knew it had been dead for hours, but part of her was still afraid. A small hoot made her jump. She flinched, bringing her hand up quickly to her pounding head.
I’m fine
, she thought at Vaith, then grimaced.
At least I was until you startled me
. Vaith trilled low in his throat and, sensing his hurt, Kira regretted her scolding words. She gritted her teeth as she made her way to the river’s edge. “I’m sorry, little one, I’m just in a foul mood. It isn’t your fault I’m in pain,” she whispered to keep the echoing in her head at bay.

Kneeling on the riverbank, she cupped her hands and scooped up freezing water, sipping as it dribbled through her fingers. The icy water tasted sweet, but numbed her fingers. The morning sun glowed high in the sky, and the stones along the river cast shadows that seemed to ripple and dance between bright patches of sunlight.

Kira stretched her legs out behind her, lying on her stomach on the sandy shore to lower her face to the water. The cold made her flinch, but she pushed her face into the icy river. When she could hold her breath no longer, she pulled her head up, gasping for air, then plunged her face back into the water over and over until the throbbing finally subsided to a dull pain. She took a long cold drink and rolled onto her back, allowing herself to doze in the warmth of the sun as it peeked out between scattering clouds.

When she woke once more, her clothes were nearly dry. She opened one eye, then the other. Her face was still sore, but the throbbing ache was gone and the sunlight was tolerable.

A shadow passed over. Vaith fluttered above her for a moment, and then made an awkward landing beside her. “Show off,” she told him with a smile. He folded his wings carefully, shrugging his shoulders, and Kira noted stiffness in his movements. He could have been hurt far worse by the troll than he’d been.

She sat up as Kelmir limped out of the cave. He had cleaned some of the mud off himself, baring fresh claw marks on his right shoulder. Kira berated herself for not seeing the extent of the wound earlier. She was making too many mistakes. Mistakes they couldn’t afford. She tended to his wound, using what was left of her store of herbs. Afterward, Kelmir sprawled out to sleep in the sun.

Muttering to herself about her stupidity, she led Trad out into the light and reexamined him. A long scratch on his left forefoot had become red and puffy. He wasn’t limping, but Kira didn’t like the look of it. She wrapped it in damp moss to reduce the swelling and covered it with sticky mud dredged from the river.

Vaith sidled up to her, tilting his head and flicking his tail. His hunger spilled out and her stomach growled in response. “Yes, you’re right. It’s high time we caught something to eat.” She sat up. Her head was clearer, but her face was tender and her body ached. She tried to remember a time when she didn’t hurt. It seemed as if, since leaving the home she had shared with Heresta, her life had been an unending series of beatings.

She stood and wiped her hands on her shirt. “This journey’s been rough on all of us, little one. But things could be worse. At least we’ve managed to elude Toril’s men this far.”

The swollen river rushed by, still carrying branches and other debris, but the fish would be settling back into feeding now that the storm had passed. She saw herself as a child, sitting beside her father on the bank of the stream near their farm, watching as he baited his line and dropped it into the water. He would speak softly to her, telling her about fish and their ways, when they fed and when they didn’t, which ones tasted best in stew, or roasted over an open fire. His quiet murmurings entranced her and she would feel the hush of the trees and flowers as she watched and waited for her father’s line to become taut with the next big catch. The two of them would both jump when the pole jerked, and then they would laugh together as he pulled in the line with a wriggling fish on the end of it.

Her mouth watered at the thought of hot fish stew and she scanned the area for something to use for a line and a pole. She had a short length of waxed thread taken from Heresta’s stores. The thread was normally used for stitching wounds, but would be strong and fine enough for line. Only, she had no hooks. She recalled sitting by the fire, watching her father make his own hooks, heating and hammering small metal nails into the correct shape, but she had nothing like that. She knew there were people who could spear a fish with a long pole, but she wasn’t sure her battered body was up to such a physical feat.

There wasn’t enough line for a fish net. She glanced back at the cave, wondering if there might be something inside she could use to catch a fish, then discarded the thought. From all the stories she’d heard, trolls weren’t generally that industrious. Especially rock trolls. They much preferred to take something warm-blooded and feed on it before it was cold. She shivered at the thought.

Still, a quick search might provide something useful. She stood up and started toward the cave, but stopped near the fallen troll. It lay on its stomach, one arm under its body, the other extended out to the side. Its curved claws were wide at the tips of the fingers, but narrow and sharp on the ends, and perhaps she could scrape one down. She crept closer, reaching for her knife, but her hand came away from her belt empty. Another stupid mistake. She’d dropped her only weapon in the cave. She rushed to retrieve the blade. How long before such a mistake would cost her her freedom, or worse, one of their lives?

With the knife in her hand, she pushed aside her revulsion, and crept up to the beast’s outstretched arm. She tried slicing at the claw on the first finger, but the nail was thick and strong, and she resorted to hacking at it. Her blows glanced off the smooth surface. In frustration, Kira placed one foot on the monster’s hand to hold the finger steady and brought the sharp blade down in a chopping motion. The knife missed its mark, sinking into flesh and through the joint. The fingertip came off, bouncing a few inches away and lay in the dirt, an oozing lump ending in a shiny curve that glinted in the sun.

Kira stepped away from the troll. Dark gray fluid oozed from the finger where the tip had been severed and a sickening sweet odor drifted up. She clamped her mouth shut to keep the bile from rising past her throat, squared her shoulders, and picked up the clawed fingertip. It was far less menacing detached from the troll’s hand. Using the knife, she pried the nail from its fleshy bed. She held her breath, trying not to inhale the foul smell, and worked the nail against a rock until the base was almost as narrow as the sharp tip. As she worked, she thought about her father. Those quiet days by the river had been a pleasant diversion, unlike what she was doing now. She set her jaw and finished her work, carving a neck into the base of the claw where she could attach her line.

A tree branch that had washed ashore provided a flexible pole, and she gathered bait from under the stones by the river, scooping up the insects that scrambled from the light when she lifted the rocks. A short distance upriver, she found a deep eddy near the bank where she dropped the makeshift hook into the water and sat down to wait.

Fat heavy flies drifted about, making low buzzing noises as she sat staring at the spot where her line intersected the water. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out a huge boulder, just beneath the surface. Around it, the water slowed and eddied. She heard her father’s deep voice telling her that this quiet swirl of dark water was a perfect hiding place for fish. She pulled her line over, inching it closer to the side of the rock. The line pulled tight and she clamped her hands around the pole.

Kira muttered a prayer that the line would hold, as she moved closer to the water. If only I can work it around the rock, she thought, stretching her arms out over the deep water and trying to lead the fish around the other side of the boulder. It struggled against her, and she let it have its way. Then as it swam toward safety under the shielding presence of the rock, she led it around the other side. After repeating the process a few times, the fish grew tired. Sensing it had about given up, Kira gave one last yank, and a speckled fish flew out of the water and landed flapping at her feet.