He felt his legs half give but drove himself for another pace. And another. He ignored the shuddering of his arms and the lancing stabs through his back every time his foot went down. He had to escape the jaguar, he had to get to the village and warn them. The temple. By Yniss, the temple had to be retaken. He couldn't fail or the harmony would be lost.
He raised his head to look for his route, his vision clouded again and a branch caught him squarely across the forehead.
Rebraal felt himself go as if in slow time. Even as his head rocked back from the impact, his legs carried on forward a pace. Impossibly unbalanced, his grip on Mercuun was lost and his broken friend tumbled out of his hands and away. He circled his arms desperately but still he fell back, landing in a tumble on the soft muddy forest floor, his head a mass of sparks, his senses all but gone.
He heard the sound of those feet running towards him, could feel their vibration through his tortured body.
'I am sorry, Meru,' he managed as he waited for the end. 'I have failed you.'
The hot breath of the cat fired into his face. He looked up into the eyes of Tual's creature to see the wonder of creation even as it tore his life from him but it was no jaguar. It was a panther, black as night with the light of sentience in its eyes. Its head darted in and licked at his cheeks and forehead, an impossibly comforting feeling as the rough tongue dragged at his skin.
He frowned, the last vestiges of his strength gone, too weak even to raise an arm, but as he faded to nowhere he heard a voice.
'How fast you ran, brave Al-Arynaar. But now you can stop. We have found you. We will take you home.' Ilkar had told them it would be different but he hadn't managed to get across the magnitude of that difference. The rainforest was vast. Unbelievably vast. It covered everything that they could see and, the Julatsan assured them, a thousand times more that they couldn't.
Sailing gently up the River Ix, they were hemmed in by walls of green on either side. The tallest trees towered over two hundred feet into the sky; their shorter cousins hung their branches into the water, sucking up the life that gave their colours such verdancy. But just as the forest seemed about to overwhelm them, the bank would cut suddenly away on one side, and the roaring they had been hearing for an hour would reveal itself as a waterfall, many hundreds of feet high, falling sheer down moss-covered rock into a deep plunge pool that fed straight into the Ix. And elsewhere they would glimpse huge gentle slopes, running away from shallow banks and up the sides of hills, that gave way in turn to spectacular mountains, thrusting through the all-conquering forest and up into the heavens.
And everyone but Aeb stared, stunned by the majesty of the land. The Protector betrayed no emotion and Hirad wanted to rip off his ebony mask and implore him to look, to laugh in delight at the beauty and to drink in his freedom. But to remove the mask would be to subject Aeb to torment at the hands of the demons who controlled his soul and the path between it and his body. Such was the curse of every Xeteskian Protector.
So Hirad tried not to think about it, and felt happy instead that some of what they saw brought light even to Erienne's eyes.
Everywhere was gorged with life. From the vibrantly coloured birds that flew overhead to the jaguars they'd seen lapping at the water's edge; to the snakes that curled around so many boughs of so many trees, and the lizards, rodents and huge hairy pig-like mammals that watched them with nervous eyes and snuffling snouts as they journeyed by. Below them yet more lurked and Hirad was glad of Ilkar's warning.
The lazy flop of fish at the river's surface was occasionally counter-pointed by the thrash of the great armoured reptiles that swam the Ix and basked on its muddy banks. Some of them had to be more than thirty feet long and the only animal not scared of them was even bigger. These giants, only their frog eyes visible, watched The Raven pass from their submerged positions. One slip, Hirad thought, and any man would be prey, though Ilkar swore to him that these lumbering aquatic animals ate only plant life.
Still, the river had yielded food for the night's stop. Before midday, the travellers had caught enough fish for a feast; they thrashed in a water-filled sack at their irascible guide's feet.
As the day wore on, tempers began to turn. Where the morning had seen the mist burn off and the rains come to cool them, the afternoon took on a heavy stifling quality that dampened spirits and leached strength. And when the clouds had stormed over them, and the lightning flashed under the dark grey mantle with thunder the prelude to yet another savage downpour, it had failed to clear the air and the heat was like a wall.
When at last, with light fading quickly, they'd steered for the bank and made camp forty yards from the river, the smiles were a fading memory.
Hirad sat on a log in the tiny clearing they had made under the patronising instruction of Kayloor who, Ilkar translated every now and again, was apparently appalled at the damage they were doing to the forest. Hammocks were strung in a loose circle around a shallow fire pit and wood burned there, lit despite its damp by Ilkar's FlamePalm.
Kayloor had produced a spit and stand from the boat's storage locker and was making himself useful cooking the fish. On another part of the fire, water boiled in a sizeable pot. Ilkar sat next to Hirad and the two of them looked around the campsite in silence for a time, watching. Aeb cleaned and sharpened his axe and sword. The Unknown was doing likewise with blade and daggers. Denser and Erienne sat on the other side of the fire, she constantly kneading her neck and trying to cover everywhere at once with her eyes and he scratching at an itch below his skullcap. The other three were out in the forest, collecting more wood and, so Ilkar said, some useful herbs, if they could find them.
'How are you doing?' he asked Hirad.
'Bloody awful,' said Hirad. 'I feel knackered but I haven't done anything. I'm already dreading another day in that damn boat, and if that guide of yours makes another clever comment he's going to find himself a snack for one of those great reptile things in the river. Oh, and my hands hurt from rowing.'
'They're called crocodiles. And quiet,' hissed Ilkar. 'We can't afford to upset him.'
They both looked at Kayloor but he didn't seem to have heard them.
'Look,' continued Ilkar. 'I know it's difficult to understand, but it's not personal what he's saying. It's how elves think. They tolerate Balaians in the trading towns and ports, but inland it's different. They don't think you understand the lore of the forest and of course they're absolutely right. Now, let me see your hands.'
'They'll be fine,' said Hirad, not convinced by Ilkar's defence of Kayloor. As far as he was concerned, the elf was just plain insulting.
'No, they won't, Hirad. You haven't listened to me, have you? This isn't Balaia. Are you blistered?'
'Well, what do you think, Ilkar?' Hirad raised his voice, feeling suddenly irritated. 'While you were sitting chatting with king smart-arse there, some of us were putting our backs out trying to move us upriver more quickly. And looking around here, I fail to see why we bothered. I mean, is this the best you can do?'
'Frankly, yes,' said Ilkar. 'Now let me see.'
'Gods, all right,' said Hirad, holding out his hands. 'You're worse than my mother.'
'I'm surprised you can remember,' said Ilkar shortly.
'Oh, and I'm sure you saw yours only just the other day. Or was it a hundred years ago? I'm easily confused.'