Under Fragile Stone (26 page)

Rug took hold of his feet and pulled. Draegar let out a great roar, causing the would-be rescuer to jump back.

‘My back right leg’s broken below the knee,’ Draegar told him. ‘Get below me and cut one of the straps, so I can hold on 
and climb out. I can’t reach my sword. You’ll have to do it.’

Rug did as he was told, clambering down to where he could reach the sword that was sheathed on Draegar’s back. He drew it out and slid the tip under one of the straps that were supporting the Parsinor’s shoulders. The razor-sharp edge cut through the tough leather like paper. The other strap gave with a snap and Draegar suddenly dropped like a stone, crashing through the foliage beneath and
disappearing
from sight with a loud gasp. There was a crunching thud further down and Rug clutched the sword to him in alarm, staring down into the foggy gloom.

‘Get me out of here, you great clod!’ a voice bellowed up. ‘And don’t drop my sword!’

He was jammed in the fork of a large branch and was still upside down. Rug made his way down and took his hand, heaving him upright. The Parsinor was pale and drenched in sweat. The shin of his back right leg was badly swollen and misshapen. Draegar snatched his sword back and cut a vine free from a nearby branch. Tying it around the ankle of his injured leg, he threw the other end through the fork and pulled it back to him. Shuffling around behind the trunk of the tree, he balanced on his left leg, leaving his right sticking out around the trunk. Then he pulled slowly and firmly on the vine. A growl grew in his throat, building into a roar and Rug actually heard the grating of bone as Draegar forcefully reset the leg. The Parsinor let go of the vine and leaned
forwards
to rest against the tree trunk with his eyes closed.

‘Where are the children?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Rug replied, looking at the Parsinor in awe. ‘I was looking for them, but I haven’t seen any sign of them. Can you move with that leg?’ 

‘The front ones take more weight when I’m climbing,’ Draegar told him, opening his eyes. ‘I need to bind it up. Can you spare some material? A sleeve torn into strips will do.’

Rug hesitated. He did not want to remove even a part of his clothes. He could not say why, but he felt protected by the layers of cloth. There was no doubt in his mind that if he saw the body that lay beneath those clothes, it would tell him something about what had happened to him to make him lose his memory. And for some reason, the thought of it terrified him.

But how could he refuse the Parsinor? Taking hold of his left sleeve at the shoulder, he tore a layer free and pulled it off, handing it to Draegar, who nodded gratefully.

‘Thank you, Rug. And thank you for your help. Only the gods know how long I could have been dangling there.’

Rug watched him break off a thin branch and bind up the injured leg with splints to support the broken bones. It looked painful, but there was no sign of it to be detected on the Parsinor’s face.

‘Are we going to look for them?’ he asked.

‘No,’ Draegar replied. ‘They got off before the gruncheg fell. If they’re not topside, they’re out in the trees
somewhere
. Those two can get around down here like monkeys; we’d be crawling around in the dark. If they have to, they can fly too. We’ll get back up topside and wait for them there. They’ll find us.’

‘If you think that’s best,’ Rug said. ‘What’s a monkey?’

Khassiel looked up at the sound of beating wings in the
darkening
sky above her. She was sitting in the shadows of the 
porch, her crossbow cradled in her lap. Emos spiralled slowly to the ground and landed with a stumble. He slunched out of his birdlike shape and stretched his arms wearily. His shoulders were slumped and he looked drained.

‘You were gone a long time,’ she said. ‘We were starting to wonder.’

‘The Reisenicks have men posted along all the roads to the cave. They’re waiting for us.’

‘That must take a lot of men.’ She stood up and leaned on the railing as he came up the steps. ‘Why are we so important?’

‘I don’t know,’ he replied, flopping into a rocking chair. ‘This whole thing has been strange from the start. We’ve done nothing to offend them. At first, I was sure it was just a mistake – a hunting party trying their luck. I thought if
Draegar
could just reach Ludditch, he could sort things out and Ludditch would pull the rogues into line. But putting
lookouts
along our route, that’s a different matter. Only the
chieftain
could be organising that and I don’t know what we’ve done to earn that kind of attention.’

‘Maybe it
is
all for someone else.’

‘Can we take the chance of being wrong?’

Jube looked out from the doorway.

‘Cullum’s up and about. Well, up anyway. Shindles has cooked us some food too. Anybody hungry?’

Cullum was already in the kitchen when they walked in, gazing down at his plate of stew but obviously still feeling too sickly to make the most of it. He glanced up when they came in, but just nodded when they greeted him. Once they had assured themselves that he was on the road to recovery, they turned their attention to the inviting smell. It came from 
a huge pot that sat over the fire and looked like it was never moved from its position. Shindles was ladling some kind of stew onto plates and handing them out. The guests sat down at the long wooden table and breathed in the aroma. It smelled rich and meaty … if a little strange.

‘What is it?’ Khassiel asked, sniffing her plate cautiously.

‘Constant stew,’ the healer replied.

‘What’s that?’

‘Taste it and tell me if you like it,’ Shindles insisted.

Khassiel took a spoonful, swilled it around her mouth and then shrugged.

‘It’s nice enough. What’s in it?’

‘Different kinds of meat, rice, vegetables, some spices and a few years of simmerin’.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s constant stew. You never take the pot off the fire, just keep adding the ingredients as you use it up. The older the stew, the better the taste. Helps keep the flies out o’ the kitchen too. This stew has been goin’ since my grandmama’s time and it only stopped then ’cause o’ the Great Autumn Flood. Put out the fire, y’ understand.’

Khassiel and Jube looked down at their plates in distaste, but their taste buds overruled them and they dug in anyway. Emos was already wolfing it down. Vintage constant stew was a rare treat for a Myunan. There was little talk while they ate – everyone too hungry to chat. But once they had all had a second and third helping, they each pushed their plates back and slumped back in their chairs, bellies stuffed to capacity. Shindles took out a pipe, filled it and lit it up and Jube soon followed her lead. Talk turned to the rescue
mission
and the reasons the Reisenicks might have for stopping 
them. Shindles could offer little information. She avoided contact with Ludditch’s clansmen as much as she could. She considered them a coarse lot with no schoolin’.

‘My nephew, Pobe,’ she declared. ‘Now he hangs around with the Juddatch boys. They mix with the Ludditch clan some. They’re out huntin’, but when they come back you could ask them. Should be back soon, now it’s got dark.’

‘Time’s not on our side,’ Jube said around the stem of his pipe. ‘We need to be getting on. Those folks are down there in the dark and the cold with no food, no water and little in the way of hope. We have to get to them quickly.’

‘We need to know what we’re getting into, as well,’ Emos countered. ‘Something’s going on with Ludditch and we don’t know what …’

He was interrupted by the sound of a piercing cry, like the ragged bark of a fox.

‘Hunnuds,’ he muttered. ‘Someone’s on the trail tonight. Is that your boys?’

‘No, they don’t use hunnuds,’ Shindles told him. ‘They’re on grunchegs – they hunt topside. Which means someone else’s huntin’ on my patch without my consent. Where the heck are those boys when I need ’em? If they’re not takin’ care o’ this, I’m likely to be addin’ kin to my pot.’

15
T
HE
H
UNNUD'S
B
REATH

The scrabbling of claws on bark was the only warning Lorkrin and Taya had before the hunnud pounced. It was only barely enough. The lithe animal sailed through the air at them, landing on the same branch and bolting in towards them. Lorkrin, who was further out, threw himself backwards and into empty space, gripping only with his tail, but it got him out of the way of the hunnud. The beast, carried on by its own momentum, switched its sights to Taya instead. She dived off completely, only just catching Lorkrin's outstretched hand as she fell. His tail lost its grip, but Taya was now within reach of a lower branch and she caught hold of it, pulling them both to safety. The hunnud bounded back off the trunk and paced out along the limb again, snarling down at them as it lunged off, spreading its legs to catch the air and slow its fall with its crude wings.

‘They can't fly – they can only jump,' Taya breathed.

‘It's still a good trick,' Lorkrin muttered. ‘Move!'

The hunnud gave out a shrieking bark, and the Myunans' blood turned cold when they heard at least three others answer the call. They dropped through a hole in the matted twigs and pulled themselves through a tangle of tree limbs. It was so dark they could hardly see. The hunnud barrelled into the opening, but was too big to fit through the knotted 
branches. It growled at them and sought another way around.

‘We're going down,' Lorkrin panted. ‘We need to go up!'

‘Right, thanks!' Taya snapped. ‘How, exactly?'

Lorkrin had no answer. The hunnud was above them somewhere; climbing up was out of the question. They heard claws in the blackness above them and swung around a tree trunk just as the hunnud dropped into view. It cast its eyes around, nose raised to find their scent. They huddled up against the trunk, wishing they could run, but afraid to move. The creature's breathing was quiet, but they could smell the stink of its breath from where they stood. Taya sniffed; that meant they must be downwind. It could not smell them from where it was. The beast leapt over to another tree, still sniffing the air. Taya waited until it was a little further away, then she whispered to her brother.

‘We need that fish you were going to eat,' she said.

‘
Now
she gets hungry.'

‘No, for the
smell
, you idiot!'

His eyes widened and he slipped the leaf package from his pack. They each took a piece of the fish and rubbed the stinking flesh all over themselves.

‘It's bound to work,' Lorkrin grimaced. ‘You could fart right now and I wouldn't smell it.'

‘Don't ever, ever tell anyone back home about this,' Taya said, with her nose wrinkled in disgust as she rubbed the fish over her face.

The hunnud was working its way around in a circle, searching around the last place it had seen its quarry. The two Myunans waited until it was far enough out that they couldn't hear it moving, and then they started climbing 
again. If the hunnud were anything like a dog or a wolf, it would depend mainly on its sense of smell to find its prey. They were counting on the fact that the fish would hide their scent long enough to put some distance between them and their hunter, and that their camouflage would hide them from its sight.

Taya and Lorkrin continued their climb, hauling
themselves
up quietly towards the roof of the forest. Lorkrin
suddenly
froze and put a hand on Taya's arm. She went still and listened. There was something breathing close by. They were stretched out on a bushy limb, Taya reaching for the next branch up. Slowly, she got down low and hugged the branch she had been standing on.

Lorkrin was about to look up when he felt the branch sink slightly beneath him as something landed further out along it. He heard the breathing of another animal. Taya, who was closer, felt something creep towards her and the bough giving under its weight told her it was big. A wet nose
snuffled
near her ear, then made its way over to her neck, then the small of her back. A heavy foot stood on her back and pushed the air out of her, then another stood on her and it was all she could do not to cry out. The heavy, four-legged animal walked over her and back onto the branch beyond her feet. With her head turned down, she was now able to get a look at it and her heart went into her throat. It was a hunnud – a huge one.

It sniffed around Lorkrin's head. Taya clenched her teeth together to stop them chattering. It didn't recognise their scent. It was just curious about the fish smell. She hoped Lorkrin kept calm. If he moved, it might mistake him for prey, and then the creature would tear him apart. 

Lorkrin was trying not to breathe. He hugged the branch, his hands locked tight to each other on its underside. His face was pressed hard against the bark, his eyes squeezed shut. He felt the moist nose on the bare skin of his neck, drawing in his scent to try and identify it. A warm, rough, wet surface ran up the back of his head and he felt sharp teeth brush his scalp. It was tasting him with its tongue. Its breath was hot on his skin and it smelled of rotten meat and bile. Lorkrin stifled a shudder that threatened to run through his body.

The animal took one more sniff and then planted its feet on Lorkrin's back and bounded over him and on to the trunk, where it started to climb. But its weight had dislodged Lorkrin's legs and the Myunan felt himself slipping sideways. He tried to get a grip with his prehensile toes, but the bark was damp and smooth. He let out a gasp as the lower half of his body slipped off the branch. The hunnud looked back sharply and growled. Lorkrin hung where he was, still with his arms wrapped around the branch. The predator dropped back down and made its way out to where Lorkrin's hands were clasped over the top of the branch. Taya watched in terror as it bent its head down close to her brother's fingers and opened its mouth to sink its teeth into them to get a proper taste.

‘No!' she screamed.

The hunnud looked up and bared its teeth at her with a ragged snarl. It crept towards her, haunches lowered in readiness to pounce. With the beast distracted, Lorkrin got his foot back up over the bough and pulled himself up. Swallowing his fear, he edged forward after the creature, unsure what he was going to do to help his sister, but 
determined to try. Taya got up on her hands and knees and crawled backwards, looking down either side of the branch to see if there was anywhere to drop to. The hunnud was advancing faster than she could go backwards and she found herself looking out into misty darkness. The branch was protruding out over the hole in the foliage caused by the falling grunchegs.

The tree limb was very thin towards the end, and it started to bend under her weight. She was running out of branch. The hunnud kept coming, more cautiously now, its claws gripping the slender bough. Its weight was making it bend even further and Taya could hear the fibres of wood tearing at the middle of the bend. She yelped as the hunnud leaned forward and gnashed its teeth at her, but it seemed reluctant to come any closer. The branch dipped even further
downwards
and a split appeared at the centre of the bend. Taya gripped tightly with fingers, toes and tail. The split grew, the end of the branch dropping steadily lower. Taya looked around desperately for a means of escape, but there was nothing. She looked back again into the grey chasm below her. Lorkrin was squatting behind the hunnud, watching helplessly.

‘Lorkrin,' she gasped. ‘I can't get …'

The branch snapped at the split, her weight pulling the last piece loose. The hunnud hurled itself at her. Lorkrin sprang after the hunnud, seizing its tail. Taya let go of the branch with her hands, reaching up to fend off the animal. She caught hold of its ears and its own momentum pushed her body clear of its teeth. They were all falling together and the beast spread its legs to catch the air under its wings, but the extra weight was too much for it and they landed hard 
on the ground below. Taya and Lorkrin slunched and absorbed most of the impact through their soft bodies. The animal came down harder and was winded; it wheezed out a pained whine, and struggled to its feet. Lorkrin stood up first, adrenaline coursing through his body and infecting him with a fighting rage. He lifted the creature's tail and
delivered
a kick to its groin with all his might. The beast yelped and leapt away, limping into the dark forest as quickly as its injuries would allow.

‘That's it!' Lorkrin bellowed. ‘That's it ya louse. Run! And tell your friends!'

He collapsed in a shaking heap on the carpet of leaves and twigs.

‘Well,' Taya panted. ‘We're back … at the bottom … again.'

‘I'm sick of trees,' Lorkrin mumbled.

They lay there, resting as long as they dared, utterly exhausted.

‘We have to go,' Taya said eventually.

‘I'm not doing any more bloody climbing.'

‘I don't think we would have found Draegar anyway. I think we need to fly.'

Lorkrin nodded, but he could barely muster the energy to walk, let alone sculpt himself wings and take to the air. But it was the only thing they could do.

Draegar had not let them fly before, because they could be seen in the open sky and Reisenicks were skilled at
hunting
birds, but that did not matter now – not with the hunnuds after them. If those hunters were still up on the forest roof, the two Myunans would just have to take their chances. With the adrenaline gone, fear started to seep back in again. What had happened to Draegar? Would they ever see him 
again? And what about Rug? Cold began to seep into their weary limbs.

Moving sluggishly, they slunched out of their climbing shapes and reworked their bodies, increasing the bulk around their chests and backs, shortening their legs and helping each other sculpt the flesh of their arms, backs and shoulders into wings.

‘Draegar's probably up there looking for us,' Taya said, trying to convince herself.

‘Right,' Lorkrin nodded.

They worked gingerly around their respective wounds, wincing as they moulded injured flesh. They gave themselves bat's wings. The ability to sculpt feathers that actually worked was still a little beyond them. To go with the wings, each worked their face and head into the likeness of a bat too.

‘And Rug will be safe with Trankelfrith; he's as tough as old boots,' Taya added.

‘Right.'

‘Let's go,' said his sister.

Beating their wings stiffly, they managed to lift themselves off the ground. Flying was an advanced skill in the Myunan art of amorphing, and Lorkrin and Taya had taught
themselves
, but they were still far from experts. Circling
unsteadily
, they rose up through the trees and out into the night. There was no sign of the hunters, the grunchegs, of Rug or Draegar or Trankelfrith. The forest roof stretched out of sight into the gloom in every direction. They were all alone.

The hunnud struck in a flash of fur and teeth, landing on Rug's back and knocking him off the branch where he had 
been waiting to follow Draegar over to another tree. He fell hard, bouncing off one tree limb, then another, his neck held firmly in the hunnud's jaws. The creature controlled the fall and then dragged him in towards the trunk, pinning him against the bole. Rug cried out, reaching behind and
slapping
at the animal's head. It was not trying to kill him, just hold him, and Rug heard the cries of more of the predators getting closer. He felt panic rising in him and thrashed harder. The jaws closed tighter and pain lanced up into the back of his head, making him wail.

‘Hold still,' Draegar said from behind him and Rug felt the Parsinor wrap an arm around the creature's neck, closing its throat. The hunnud opened its mouth to gag and Rug was free. Draegar broke the animal's neck with a sharp twist and tossed the corpse into the fog below.

‘There's more on the way,' the Parsinor told him. ‘We can't fight them all. Let's pick up the pace.'

They continued climbing. Time after time, they were forced to stop as they heard the hunnuds scuttle past nearby in the darkness. Scaling the trunk of the tree with renewed vigour, they soon saw starlight and, not long after, were above the mist and crouching in the thin boughs near the top of the tree. They could not go any higher, neither of them light enough to get safely to the top.

‘By the gods!' Draegar swore. ‘We're too late!'

Off to the northwest, two winged shapes circled in the bright, night sky.

‘I know what they are,' Rug said, distantly. ‘Bats. Those are bats.'

‘No,' Draegar muttered through gritted teeth. ‘Those are Myunans.' 

Rug and Draegar watched them for as long as they could, but the two children soon disappeared from sight.

‘How are you so sure?' Rug asked. ‘They looked like bats.'

‘They had backpacks, and they weren't flying very well,' Draegar said bluntly. ‘At least they're out of the woods. Seeing as they haven't found me, they'll go looking for Emos. Where did Trankelfrith get to?'