“Demi was trying to steal Gaida from me. I knew there were others, but he was the only one she was really serious about. I knew if I could just get him out of the way, she’d be mine.”
Kyrin had a wild look in his eyes, but he was moving slowly, almost as if he were drugged. He was probably still in shock.
Greddark inched his right hand closer to his pocket, trying not to hiss in pain. Just a little more time-
“So you decided to kill him, to make sure he couldn’t challenge you for Gaida?”
“No. No! It wasn’t like that.” The tip of Kyrin’s blade wavered, as if it were becoming too heavy for the grief-stricken man to hold. “I snuck Shari into town, because Gaida wouldn’t come out here. I was going to surprise Gaida-I knew if she could just see how beautiful Shari was, how beautiful all the animals are, she’d realize her place was with me, not that washed-up blueblood. But when I got to her place, he was there-he was just coming out, and I knew he’d been with my Gaida. When he saw me, he started to laugh and I–I don’t know what came over me, but the next thing I knew, he was on the ground, and my sword was bloody. I knew no one would understand-they’d think I killed him on purpose, so I had Shari drag him away from Gaida’s house-I couldn’t have her walking out in the morning and finding him there! And then I had Shari chew on him a little-I figured Maellas would just blame it on the shifters and no one would ever know.”
Greddark’s hand had reached his pocket, and he was able to snag a bloodspike between two curled knuckles. Making sure it was snug, he slowly withdrew his hand, his eyes never leaving d’Vadalis.
“So it was just an accident,” Greddark said, his voice calm and soothing as he lowered his own blade. “Of course. I should have realized that. Accidents happen, and they’re nobody’s fault. This was all just a big misunderstanding.”
Kyrin nodded, the tip of his sword now dragging in the dirt. The anger had drained out of the handler as he spoke, and now he just looked sad, and lost.
“A misunderstanding,” Kyrin whispered, and Greddark made his move.
Lowering his shoulder, he rushed at the handler, colliding with the man so hard they both crashed to the floor, d’Vadalis’s blade skittering away while Greddark’s was trapped between them. Releasing the weapon, Greddark heaved himself up with his left hand and raised the bloodspike in his right, preparing to thrust it into the most vulnerable spot within reach-Kyrin’s wide, surprised eye. With any luck, the blow would only blind the handler, and not kill him, but Greddark was in no position to be picky. He had to end this fight now, before half the compound’s population arrived to investigate the commotion.
Then he heard the unmistakable sound of multiple crossbows being loaded, the clicking of bolts rammed into their grooves echoing through the now-quiet barn.
Too late.
“One more move and you’re dead, dwarf.”
Chapter NINE
Sul, Therendor 22, 998 YK
As Andri lunged at the wight that had once been the shifter Thorn, he heard Irulan cursing and scrambling to her feet behind him.
“Don’t let it touch you!” the paladin called out, not daring to take his eyes off the undead monstrosity before him.
“Now he tells me,” he heard her mutter as her blade cleared its scabbard.
Then he had no more time to worry about the shifter woman, for the wight before him was barreling forward, thick arms raised for another blow.
With a quick prayer, Andri brought his sword up to parry the wight’s attack, the argent flames burning away what was left of the hair on the undead shifter’s forearms. With a weird, ululating cry, the wight recoiled, pulling its arms away from the holy fire and flashing its fangs in an angry grimace.
Andri pressed the attack, taking advantage of the wight’s fear to beat it back. As it stumbled over loose rocks from a broken cairn, Andri moved in to finish it off. Raising his sword, he intoned, “May the Flame have mercy on your soul, wherever it is,” and drove the blade downward toward the wight’s unprotected chest.
And was knocked three feet to the side as Irulan’s limp body came flying through the air and crashed into him, sending him and his sword in opposite directions.
Both he and the undead shifter scrambled to their feet. Irulan, obviously weakened by the other wight’s attack, lay panting where she had landed at the foot of a statue of Dol Arrah.
A quick glance told Andri the Thorn-wight would reach him before he could get to his sword. Knowing he had no other choice, he invoked the healing power of the Silver Flame and readied himself for the wight’s assault.
Now that the wight no longer had to fear the silver flames of Andri’s weapon, the creature abandoned all caution and charged. As it neared, Andri opened his arms wide, as if to embrace the undead shifter. The force of the wight’s rush knocked him to the ground again, but instead of trying to get away, Andri wrapped his arms tight about the thing’s leathery chest and let the divine healing force of the Flame flow through his hands and out from his fingers.
The wight screamed in agony as the holy energy coursed through it. Meant to restore living flesh, the paladin’s healing power washed over the undead shifter in a wave of pure silver light, eradicating the false life that had animated it and leaving its desiccated skin and bones crumbling to dust in Andri’s arms.
Climbing to his feet once more, Andri saw the other wight bending over Irulan’s supine form. Willing the shifter woman the courage to hold on, he sprinted over to retrieve his sword. Recalling the argent fire that had guttered and gone out as soon as the blade was separated from his hand, Andri hoisted the flaming weapon and rushed toward the unnatural creature.
“Get away from her!”
The wight turned its head, baring its sharp teeth in an evil grin before slamming one fist down in the middle of Irulan’s chest. Andri could hear the dull crack of ribs breaking and the sudden gurgling gasp that indicated a punctured lung. Worse, the thing was draining Irulan’s life with every blow, its corpse-pale face becoming flush with her stolen essence.
Andri knew she couldn’t withstand much more. With a desperate cry, he called upon the holy Flame once more to rebuke the creature.
“In the name of the Silver Flame, I abjure thee!”
Miraculously, the wight hesitated. In the split second it took the thing to shrug off Andri’s feeble attempt to turn it, the paladin covered the remaining distance between them and swung his blade with all the strength of his faith and his fear for Irulan. The wight’s head, severed cleanly from its body, sailed across the graveyard to land atop a rock cairn, then tumbled down the stone slope to land facing him, its sightless eyes staring.
Andri pushed its headless body away from Irulan and knelt down beside her. He’d already used up most of the healing energy he had to kill the first wight. He prayed that the Flame would grant him enough to keep the shifter woman alive.
“O benevolent and merciful Flame, I beseech thee on behalf of this shifter woman, a stout warrior and a true friend. Allow me the grace to heal her so that she may continue to fight evil and bring others to the faith.”
He placed both hands lightly on her chest, palms down, directly over her broken ribs and pierced lung. Closing his eyes, he felt a rush of warmth as the power of the Silver Flame channeled through him, pouring into the shifter’s body to knit broken bone and mend torn tissue. Even as the energy coursed through him, he knew it would not restore the life the wight had drained from her, but that would come in time. It was enough, now, to know that she would not die.
As the power faded, he opened his eyes. Some color had returned to Irulan’s cheeks, and the rise and fall of her chest was steady and unlabored. With a grateful sigh, he sagged against a tombstone. Now all he had to do was wait for her to wake up.