"No one move!" someone shouted. "Keep your place. All of you!"
Wynn never finished the last word as a clatter of hooves broke her focus.
Three horses charged up the street, with Rodian in the lead on his white mare. He rode straight at il'Sänke with his sword drawn.
The pattern vanished from Wynn's sight as she shouted, "No, not him!"
Rodian heard howling from several blocks away and drove Snowbird through the streets until he burst upon a startling scene.
Il'Sänke stood closest, his back turned. Another man holding a longsword stumbled along the shops at the street's left side. And Wynn's wolf righted itself near a porch up the way.
"No one move!" he ordered, jerking his sword from its sheath. "Keep your place. All of you!"
Then Rodian spotted Wynn.
She held out a staff with a long piece of prismatic glass fixed atop it. Strange glasses with large lenses covered her eyes. Her lips stopped moving as her head turned toward him, then her face filled with panic.
What was she doing here with the Suman and these others?
Il'Sänke remained where he was. Rodian couldn't be certain whether the man was looking at Wynn or…?
Rodian spotted the black-robed figure. He hadn't seen it at first in the dimly lit street with so many others scattered about. Only the figure's hood pivoted toward him.
It was here—but so was il'Sänke. They weren't the same person, but the Suman still muttered a chant.
Rodian flipped his sword tip up and nudged with his heels. Snowbird closed on il'Sänke's back at a fast canter. He would bring an end to this chain of deaths.
"No, not him!" Wynn shouted.
Rodian hammered his sword hilt down on il'Sänke's head, and Snowbird skidded to a halt as the domin crumpled.
Chapter 19
Chane stumbled into a narrow path between two buildings, fearing the crystal might flash at any moment. But the burning light never came.
He flattened against one shop's dingy side as shouts and the sound of pounding horses' hooves grew in the street. The sting like iced needles still filled his body, but shock overcame suffering when he peered into the street.
Shade was on her feet, rumbling instead of howling, and she limped sideways toward Wynn.
Wynn stood in confusion, holding the crystal's staff out. But she turned her widening eyes, behind the strange spectacles, toward the first horseman.
The man she called Captain Rodian—the same one who had set the trap at the scriptorium—sat on a fidgeting white mare, his sword in hand. And the Suman lay in a limp mass, clearly unconscious.
Amid all this, the wraith remained still, turning only its hood toward the captain, as two other city guards kicked their mounts, charging at it.
Everything had turned to a fool's chaos. There was nothing left but to get Wynn out of the middle.
Chane willed down pain, letting hunger rise to eat it, and he ducked out, bolting straight at Wynn.
Rodian looked up from il'Sänke's crumpled form as Garrogh charged with Lúcan flanking him. The two raced toward the black-robed man.
"Hold!" Garrogh shouted. "Keep your hands where I can see them!"
"Keep away!" Wynn shouted back.
Rodian wasn't certain whom she shouted at. The wolf hobbled quickly in front of her, but the black-robed figure slid straight into the path of Garrogh's bay gelding.
Garrogh's horse reared with a sudden scream, and the figure thrust out his hand.
His fingers pierced the gelding's chest, and then he slipped aside. As the gelding's foreleg came down, the horse collapsed.
"Garrogh!" Rodian yelled.
His lieutenant was tossed forward, slamming against the cobble and skidding along the street. Lúcan swerved his mount around the downed horse and charged at the black figure.
"Lúcan, no!" Rodian called.
The robed man swung with his hand, striking the head of the guardsman's horse.
The animal never made a sound as it skidded on its folded forelegs. Rodian jumped off Snowbird as Lúcan fought to pull his mount up. But the horse collapsed sideways, and the young guard cried out as his left leg was pinned.
Rodian ran for his men. The black-robed man closed on Lúcan, struggling beneath his mount.
Lúcan tried to pull his sword. The dark man slapped his face—and the guardsman screamed. Garrogh rolled over on the street and lunged up, drawing his blade as he turned on the robed one's back.
"Get away from him!" he shouted.
Rodian's mind went numb. He'd thought il'Sänke was the cause of all this, and that the black-robed man would surrender once his accomplice was put down. Wynn's earlier words echoed in his head as he ran to aid his men.
You're not hunting a living man! And you'll never stop it through your usual means.
Garrogh swung as Rodian tried to get in front of the black mage.
The figure reached back and caught Garrogh's blade. The sword halted instantly, as if no more than a child's stick. Garrogh's eyes widened as Rodian swung at the figure's front.
His longsword passed straight through the cloak and robe. Meeting no resistance at all, Rodian almost lost his balance.
In that brief instant the black one twisted. His other hand struck Garrogh's face… and passed straight through.
Horror closed Rodian's throat.
Garrogh's grip released his sword's hilt, and he crumpled.
The lieutenant's face turned ashen in the pattern of a hand overlying his slack features. When his knees hit the cobblestones his legs folded, and he fell backward with his eyes locked open.
The black figure finished its full turn back to Rodian with Garrogh's blade still in its grip.
Rodian backed up a step.
"Don't let it touch you!" Wynn cried, but her voice now came from behind him.
He retreated another step as the figure opened its hand. The blade didn't slide along the cloth-wrapped palm. Garrogh's sword dropped straight down, right through the hand, and clanged upon the street.
Rodian heard a loud snort and hammering hooves. Snowbird was coming. She would kill—or die—for him, but he couldn't afford to look back for her.
"No!" he shouted. "Snowbird, stay!"
Still he heard her hooves.
"Shade, go!" Wynn cried.
Rodian quickly glanced sideways.
Wynn's wolf bolted past him at the black mage, still limping on one foreleg, and began snarling and snapping. Rodian snatched Snowbird's reins as she tried to follow the wolf. He jerked her away and turned around. Wasted moments were foolish, but he couldn't let her be hurt.
Wynn's wolf harried the black-robed man, yet seemed hesitant to stay close for too long. It hopped about, staying out of reach, but in turn the black figure flinched each time the wolf made a lunge.
Rodian jerked Snowbird's head aside and shoved on her neck.
"Back!" he commanded. Then he turned and closed behind the wolf.
He had no idea how to fight this man if his sword couldn't connect. Instead of swinging, he feinted and jabbed. His blade tip slipped through the figure's whipping cloak, and whoever hid within the cowl never took notice. When the blade came out, there wasn't even a tear in the fabric.
The figure lashed out at him.
Rodian saw the hand of wrapped black cloth coming for his face and jerked his head aside.
Searing cold spread instantly through his shoulder.
He cried out as if frostbite had erupted inside his muscles. Searing cold strangled a cry in his throat as pain ran down his arm and up his neck. Fear struck him as hard as the cobblestones when he toppled.
Rodian vaguely heard the wolf's snarl, its claws scrabbling on the street, but he couldn't lift his head. He was going to die, and all he could do was lie there, waiting to see the empty cowl appear above him.
Someone leaped over him from behind. He caught only the sight of a whipping brown cloak.