Servant of the Serpent (Serpent's War Book 1) (9 page)

Corian limped back, drawing and firing arrow after arrow as the splisskin charged him. He hit more than he missed but his accuracy suffered. Four more splisskin were stuck with arrows by the time Corian stumbled through the far edge of the willow’s hanging branches. A hiss and the sound of a foot sliding against the ground alerted him to turn to his right. He ducked under a curved sword slash and tripped on the uneven ground. Corian rolled, throwing himself into it to gain more distance from the flanking splisskin.

Roots and rocks struck him, leaving bruises and making him grunt what air he had out of his chest. He hit a large rock; it spun him and left him stunned and laying on his side on a rock. He jerked up, fighting to figure out which way was up as much as he was struggling to ignore the many pains in his body.

Corian looked up and saw the walking lizards approaching. They fanned out, a few of them sporting arrows that emerged from their arms or legs. He saw his bow lying nearby and lunged to grab it. The pain in his leg wound made him hiss and drove him to one knee. He grabbed the bow in spite of it and struggled to fit an arrow to the string.

Corian was spun around as an arrow slammed into the right side of his chest just below his shoulder. It ripped through, tearing flesh and muscle. Even worse than the agony of the rips in his body was the burning fire that paralyzed his chest for a terrible moment. He thought he was drowning again until he forced himself to relax and remember he wasn’t underwater.

Corian turned back to the splisskin. They were closer now but he’d dropped his bow when he’d been shot. Almost close enough to hack him apart. He scrambled back, sliding across the rock away from them until he came to the edge of the shelf. The river rushed by below him. Not a straight drop but close enough. He looked up and saw the closest splisskin hiss something at him in his sibilant tongue and lunge for him.

Corian leaned back and pushed off with his good leg. He tumbled over the edge, slipping under the thrusting sword tip and then enjoying a heartbeat of weightlessness before he slammed into the steep side of the short cliff and bounce off and away. He hit the rocky bank and rolled into the water, barely conscious and suddenly thrust back into the same watery nightmare that had almost killed him less than twenty-four hours ago.

The rushing water swept Corian away. It carried him east and sent him tumbling and plunging through rapids and over small waterfalls. The cold water soothed the burning in his leg and chest, but it left him numb and desperate for breath whenever he could get his face above the surface. A small bundle of fallen branches crossed the river ahead. He managed to grab it with his left arm and hold himself still long enough to gather his breath and spit out what water was in his mouth.

His fingers trembled, the cold and exhaustion sapping their strength. He began to force his right arm up out of the water when he saw movement up the river. The splisskin were searching for him, two of them leading the way with arrows fit to bows. Corian lacked the energy to curse. They weren’t trying to capture him; they were going to kill him. He had no choice.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before letting go of the branches. The current swept him under and downstream towards a roaring waterfall that fell a dozen feet. He clutched his arms to his chest and thought up a prayer to Saint Preth, the patron of survival.

Chapter 9

Allie tucked her bundle of dry clothes under her arm as she walked along the edge of the river. She was dripping sweat again after her morning workout. Grandpa drilled her over and over, making her fight against imaginary opponents and then beat a bale of hay until she was itching and exhausted. Then he made her rake up the hay and feed their horses.

The only good part was the time it gave her to think about what he’d told her. They’d talked about her mom, or at least as much about her mom as Grandpa knew. He said they’d lived in Assurion’s Crossing but it was burned down. Grandpa and her dad found it burning and her dad rescued her. He couldn’t save her mom, though. It was enough for Allie; it made sense why her dad didn’t talk about it. He must have felt bad. She couldn’t wait to see him again and give him a hug and let him know she didn’t blame him. Maybe then he’d open up and tell her more about what she’d been like.

Her muscles were sore and her arms were so tired they felt like they were made of iron. But she felt good. Great, actually. She was covered in dust and sweat and didn’t smell like a girl ought to smell, but she felt alive. Even more than that, Grandpa had nodded and smiled a few times, approving of her progress.

Even more exciting than all of that, she was dying to jump in the river and go for a swim. She walked as fast as she could without breaking into a jog and reached the spot she’d been a couple of days past, after she’d broken Talwin’s arm. The healer at the shrine to the patron saint of light and growth had set and bound his arm, but there was little more he could do for him. Magical healing was a thing of miracles and fantasies in Almont. Only the rich and powerful could afford such boons, and they wouldn’t be found anywhere near a tiny trading post like Almont.

Now Talwin was avoiding her and it looked like word had spread. Boys were steering clear of her and the three girls in the village her age would look at her, but then find something else to do. She was different from them. She wanted more out of life. The simple fact that she was learning to defend herself was more than they could understand. She was a girl—in their eyes, she should set her sights on finding a man to protect her.

Allisandra pushed the thoughts of her peers away. Today was a good day. The sun was hot and the water cool and inviting. She’d worked hard and now she was going to enjoy some time to herself. She kept going, heading farther upstream than she usually bothered to go. She had the whole day ahead of her and wanted to do some exploring.

She found a log that had been washed up on shore and set her things on top of it. She unbuckled her grandpa’s sword and added it to the pile, and then checked around before stripping off her clothes and splashing into the river.

The cool water startled her and made the sun seem even warmer against her uncovered flesh. Her frequent swims kept her body tanned all over, something she was happy that her dad and grandpa hadn’t noticed. They gave her as much privacy as they could, but their houses were small and among family, modesty sometimes had to step aside.

She dove into the river and felt the cool water shock her skin and soak into her hair to tickle her scalp. It was a good thing she wasn’t among family or friends now; she only had the water to provide cover. She splashed around and rolled onto her back, striking out with her arms and kicking her feet to propel herself into the deeper middle of the river. She rolled over and dove until her finger touched the gritty bottom. Satisfied, she pushed off and kicked her way to the surface.

Allie burst from the surface with enough force to rise out of the water all the way to her belly. She splashed back down and laughed with the sheer thrill of being alive. She swam around, twisting and swimming in circles in the water for a few moments until she grew tired. She lay on her back in the water and kicked against the current, staying mostly in place and closing her eyes so she could feel the warmth of the sun on her face and chest.

Allie flipped over after several seconds. She knew she couldn’t fight the current long and didn’t dare risk floating too close to town. She struck out, swimming hard until her fingers grazed the bottom. She stood up and waded out of the water onto the western bank, moving forward and feeling a chill pimple her skin as the hot air kissed the water off her. The sun’s warmth chased the chill away and left her smiling on the shore.

Allie glanced up at the midday sun and bit her lip. “I’ve got time,” she whispered and turned away from the river. She plunged into the tough grasses and tried her best to avoid the jagged leaves of the bushes and scrub trees with their sharp needles and thorns. She’d learned a few years back when she first began exploring the wilderness how protective clothing was.

She slipped away from the river and up the slope that led to the steeper hills to the west. The mountains were a day’s ride to the west if the ground was flat. Instead, the terrain grew rougher and rougher. The closest road was south, in Assurion’s Crossing, and even that road only ran through the hills and eventually joined other roads.

A few men lived in the hills, but as far as she knew, they were to the south and west. Trappers and hunters, the sort of man who lived alone for a reason. Her dad told her that rumor held of clans of dwarves living in the hills and at the edges of the mountains, but their silver mines had long gone dry and they’d left. All that remained was the elves on the other side of the mountains. That, and the things that lived in the mountains.

Allie stopped and basked in the sunlight. She glanced back, making sure she was hidden from view of the river just in case. Satisfied that both trees and hills hid her, she turned back to the west and stared up at the hazy mountains. Something in the air, dust she’d heard, made them look fuzzy. They were beautiful but so tall and imposing. As much as she wanted to see them, they scared her. What sort of things could live in such a rocky and harsh place? Birds, sure, but she’d heard rumors and whispers of monsters, too.

Allie smiled and shook her dark thoughts away. She was alive and free and the world was a warm and wonderful place. She danced along a game path and followed it to the north, twirling a few times just because she felt like doing it. She remembered a tune a bard had played a few nights past in the Silverdust Tavern and hummed it as she danced.

The trail turned back to her right, towards the river, and she followed it. Had a boar or a deer last traveled it? Could she sneak up on it and see it? She pressed her lips together and stopped humming. She was making too much noise if she wanted to sneak up on anything!

Allie began to move more carefully through the countryside. She slowed down and watched the ground, putting her feet on bare spots or at least avoiding the bushes that would rattle if she brushed against them.

She followed the trail into a small copse of the prickly desert pine trees without realizing it would make a good place for a large animal to bed down for the day. She moved slow, holding a couple of branches at bay to keep from being scratched. She stopped inside the tiny grove and spun in place slowly. The trees made walls around her and made her feel like she was in a room. A room without a roof, but the trees were tall enough to block the early afternoon sun and make her feel cozy and secure.

She stepped on the fallen pine needles and crouched down to look at them. There were enough on the ground it softened the hard-packed dirt. The needles were still sharp, but she could handle a few pricks for the pleasure of how they felt under her feet. Cool and spongy, almost moist. She grinned and rubbed her hand across them.

The loud caw of a bird made her gasp and stand up. Another bird answered, just as close. She peered into the trees ahead of her but couldn’t see anything. The birds continued and she began to hear sounds of wings flapping. More birds or the first two? They sounded big, crows or buzzards or something larger. Raptors, maybe?

Allie’s eyes widened at the thought of seeing a majestic bird like a raptor up close. She moved between two trees and carefully pushed the branches away so she could slip between them and step out.

The birds saw her and cried out in protest. There were three of them. Giant black winged birds with bald heads. Buzzards. They landed and shrieked at her, hopping back and forth to show their agitation. Two were on a fallen tree and a third on a half-dead pine tree. She sniffed the air but didn’t smell any rotting meat.

“Nasty birds,” Allie scolded. “What are you after? Not me, I hope. I’m alive and well, thank you very much.”

They cawed louder and one even hopped along the fallen tree towards her. Allie squawked and took a step back, poking her bare bottom on the pine needles. She yelped and jumped forward. The buzzard flapped its wings and flew back to a nearby tree.

Allie rubbed her stinging backside and glared at the buzzard. Now that she had some extra room, she stepped up to the fallen log and squatted down to grab a branch that had been broken off when the tree fell. She had to twist and yank on it to snap it free, but when she stood up, she felt better for having it.

“Want to try that again, dirty bird?” she taunted the buzzard.

It squawked at her and flew off to land in another tree farther away. The other two birds eyed her and, after she took a few experimental swings with her branch, they took to the air to retreat as well.

Allie grinned. “My daddy taught me to take care of myself,” she told the buzzards. “Now what’s got you three so interested?”

She stepped over the log and saw the ground dropped away down a steep hill. It was a short drop, only about four feet, but it led to a dry stretch of ground that would be underwater in the spring. The river circled the tiny peninsula on three sides and then swept downstream towards Almont. All of that registered but went ignored. Her eyes widened and she let out a startled cry at the woman lying face down on the ground, her feet still half submerged in the river.

She stood paralyzed for several seconds. Allie could make out the curved and pointed ears of the woman. She wasn’t just a woman—she was an elf! Was she dead? She had to be; the elves lived on the other side of the mountains. Her shirt was dry and so was her hair, but it was dried by the sun. She must have washed ashore.

Allie nodded and slid down the hill to stand next to the elf maid. She crouched down beside her and reached out towards the side of her head. She hesitated, afraid to touch a dead body. What had killed her? She pulled her hand back and looked at her again, studying her from head to foot. Her gaze caught up on a tear in the back of her pants, high enough on her leg to make Allie blush at the thought of seeing her skin.

“This is silly,” she whispered and leaned over to look at the wound. She could barely see the wound itself. All she saw was the pink flesh and the dried puss and blood that caked it. Was the wound infected?

Allie looked at the dead elven woman from her new position and saw the torn fabric of her shirt beneath her right arm. She leaned as far as she could without putting her hands on the woman’s body and could barely make out a similar looking wound. She shook her head and sighed. Her first elf and it was a dead one.

“I wonder who you were,” Allie mumbled. She shifted and reached up to brush the hair away from the woman’s face.

The dead woman’s eyes snapped open, proving she wasn’t as dead as Allie thought. Not only that, but with her face uncovered, Allie realized she wasn’t a she.

“Are you a nymph?” the injured man breathed through split lips crusted with dried blood.

Allie screamed and jumped back. She dropped her stick and fell backwards, and then kept scrambling on her hands and feet to get back. In no time, she splashed into the river and fell back, splashing and choking on the water that she sucked into her mouth. She jerked up, sputtering and coughing, and then remembered the elven man on the shore. She dropped back down, kneeling in the river and keeping herself underwater from the shoulders down.

He didn’t move or speak. Allie waited several minutes and then lifted herself a few inches to get a better view without exposing herself too much. “Hey!” she called when he didn’t move. “Are you awake?”

The man didn’t move.

Allie frowned and glanced around. Her stick was on the ground and her clothes were downstream. She didn’t even know how far downstream; she’d walked for at least an hour, maybe two. Allie bit her lip. “Don’t move. I’ll go get help.”

Her answer was the caw of a buzzard. She spun and glared at the bird sitting on the side of the river. “You leave him alone—he’s hurt!”

Neither bird nor man responded. Allie clenched her teeth and let out a frustrated growl. “I’ll be back, I promise!”

She turned and lunged into the water, kicking hard and swinging her arms to swim with the current back downstream to where she’d left her clothes. She had no idea what she’d do when she got there, other than get dressed, but she would probably need help. Whoever he was, he’d been hurt and probably almost dead. A healer, maybe? Her grandpa would know. He’d even told her that he’d worked with elves in the past.

Allie swam towards the eastern shore, her arms and legs getting tired. She wanted to be ready to climb out and walk if she got too tired to swim. It wouldn’t do the elf or her any good if she didn’t make it back!