The girl looked ragged and tired. She brushed straggling wisps of red hair away from her face with an absent gesture. “We—we should do something about his fingers, Lavim, but I don’t—I don’t—” She stopped, unable to find words to express her reluctance to tamper with that swollen ruin of a hand.
As though he sensed her feeling, Lavim drew in a long breath and let it out in a sigh. “You’re afraid you’ll do something to make it worse?”
“That,” she whispered, “and—oh, Lavim, whatever I do is going to hurt him so much!”
“It’s a shame we don’t have any dwarf spirits. I’ve heard that if you have enough of that stuff in you, you probably couldn’t feel a tree if it fell on you. We don’t, so you’d better do what you have to do before he wakes up. I don’t think he’s going to want to watch you straighten and bind those fingers.” Lavim shook his head. “As a matter of fact, I don’t think I want to watch you, either.”
“Lavim, will you help me?”
Lavim certainly didn’t want to do that. His stomach went all squishy when he thought about it. “Kelida, I don’t think—well, that is, I’m not really very good at this sort of thing and—”
Help her, Lavim.
Oh, but I don’t think—
Hold his hand at the wrist and straighten the fingers as she binds them.
Lavim’s stomach was really acting up now. Leftover smell-spell, he told himself and didn’t choose to remember that he, as the spell caster, hadn’t been affected by the odor at all.
No, Piper, he said silently, I don’t think I want to do that. Piper’s voice was very gentle inside his head.
Lavim, he’s never going to have the use of that hand again. But you can help Kelida ease the pain.
“All right,” Lavim whispered.
Something was eating Stanach’s hand. It gnawed one finger, chewed flesh, spat out bone, and moved on to the next. Voiceless and surrounded by hollow voices that should have been familiar, but were not, he tried to scream and failed.
Three!
(Two or seven … )
Four!
(One or six … )
Reorx! I beg you! Grant me grace or strike me dumb!
Fire ran along the edges of Wulfen’s dagger; the steel of its blade sent fear rebounding around the cold, wet walls of the cave the way the echoes of pain and old, spent thoughts echoed around Stanach’s mind.
“Where is Stormblade?”
Pieces of twilight and a midnight star.
“Lyt chwaer.”
“Now, one more, Stanach.”
Stanach heard a distant scream. Faint and very thin, it shivered the darkness surrounding him.
Five!
“Rest easy, young Stanach,” the god said with the voice of an old kender. “Rest easy.”
Stanach sighed as the clean, cold wind of the mountains dried his sweat and tore through the echoing voices, shredding them the way it would smoke.
19
Tyrol walked along the frozen mud by the river’s edge. The wind off the water blew cold out of the mountains from the east. The elf thought it smelled of snow. Instinct told him that though many hours remained to the night and they should put some distance between themselves and this wretched place, what was needed was a fire, some food, and a chance for Stanach to gain whatever strength he could before dawn.
Inclination told him to get Stanach on his feet somehow. The one-eyed Theiwar might still be about somewhere. Though he was alone, he was what the dwarves called derro. Tyorl had spent enough time on Thorbardin’s border to pick up a good store of dwarven words. He knew what derro meant: half-mad and seemingly able to thrive on nothing but hate. He was magi and dangerous as well.
Tyorl kicked a small stone into the water and regretted it the moment he heard it splash. Childish behavior like that will get us all killed before dawn, he thought. Childish behavior like that, and the unlooked for change in his feelings toward Kelida. He’d held himself back in the tunnel because of her, because he was concerned for her. Lavim could have used his help, and, if he’d been there to give it, the Theiwar would be no problem now; he’d be dead.
Damn! The woman isn’t tracking through the forest, putting her life at risk, because Hauk is important to you! She does it because he’s important to her. Hauk left Tenny’s without his sword and with the barmaid’s heart. Did he know that?
Tyorl shook his head. He didn’t think Hauk was alive at this moment to know. For his friend’s sake, he hoped that he wasn’t.
The elf ground a curse between clenched teeth and broke into a run. The dead Theiwar lay just before the river’s bend.
An arrow protruded from the dwarf’s chest. Four thin blue bands marked the shaft a thumb’s length above the fletching notch. He knew the mark well and the gray fletching and black cock feather even better. Finn!
He looked around quickly. The river, never silent, ran whispering on his left. Black shadows and blacker trees, the forest crowned the rise on his right. Tyorl drew the arrow from the dwarf’s chest and rose, sending the red-shouldered hawk’s shrill keee-yeeer! echoing against the forest’s wall of trees. There was only one answer to that cry, a thrush’s reedy, upward spiraling song. Tyorl heard it almost at once and laughed aloud for sheer relief.
Finn, tall and thin as fence rails, stood on the rise between two trees. Tyorl didn’t see his smile, but he heard it in his question.
“Where’ve you been, elf?”
“Looking for you, Lord, and hoping you’d find me.” He kicked at the body lying near his feet. “Have you seen another one of these around?”
“Only this one. He raised that crossbow too fast when he saw me. Gave me no time to ask after others.”
Finn left the rise, jogging down the slope. Two shadows, dark as night, left the forest and followed. Lehr cut ahead of the rangerlord and Kembal, his brother, drifted behind.
Lehr, dark eyes shining with the light of his grin, shaggy black hair ruffling in the cold wind, slapped Tyorl’s shoulder in greeting. “Where’s Hauk? That one’s owed me three gold or twelve steel for a week and more. I figured you two’ve been dragging your heels getting back because he didn’t come by it in town.”
Tyorl shook his head, the brightness flown from the reunion. “He’s not here, Lehr. “He gestured toward the river cave. “Kem, you’re needed back there. Go with your hands on your pack. There’s a kender in there who claims to have killed four dwarves.”
Tyorl glanced at the arrow still in his hand. “I know he killed three of them. Three or four. He’s likely grown bored of being proud of himself and will be looking around for trouble to get into.”
Lehr laughed, but his brother only nodded and loped toward the cave.
“Go with him, Lehr,” Finn said quietly. When they were alone, the rangerlord accepted his arrow from Tyorl and checked the fletching. He found it still good and returned it to his quiver. “Good to see you, Tyorl.”
The elf looked back to the forest. “And you, Lord. Are the others with you?”
“No. I left them six miles north of here. Lehr crossed your trail yesterday. We’d have come looking sooner, but it seems that Verminaard is quick-pacing his war on the borders. We’ve been busy these three days.” Finn smiled coldly. “Raiding supply trains.”
“Have we lost anyone?”
“No, though Kem almost heaved himself inside out from the stink of this place a few minutes ago. Where did that come from? If you tell me the Abyss, I’ll likely believe you.”
Tyorl sighed, suddenly realizing how tired he was and how strange a tale he had to tell. “It’s a very long story.”
“No doubt.” Finn looked at him sharply. His eyes softened a little.
“Tyorl, we saw no sign that Hauk’s with you. Is he dead?”
“I don’t know. I think he’s in Thorbardin.”