Spirit (28 page)

When they
finally stopped tumbling, Balor was on top, his massive paws pinning the man to
the ground, his teeth bared and less than an inch from his face. Strings of
saliva threatened to drop on his face.

I ran forward,
skidding to a halt beside Balor, my crossbow pointed at his face, the arrow
cocked and ready to fly. Only my surprise kept my finger from pulling the
trigger.

“Gwyn?” I
demanded, staring wide-eyed at the pinned elf. He glared up at me. His black
eyes, if it was possible, were darker and hard like onyx, and his pale lips
were pressed into a hard line. His ankle-length silver hair was a tangled mess
under his head, scattered with dirt and fallen leaves.

“Bloody dog,” Gwyn
swore. “Balor, off, now!” Balor growled down at him, his red eyes narrowing to
slits.

“Balor,” I said,
“it’s okay, back off.” He whined, flicking his eyes toward me, but when I
nodded, he leapt off of the fallen elf. Gwyn gasped in pain as four paws pushed
against him for leverage.

I stepped back
as Gwyn got to his feet, dusting off his pants. He shook out his hair, the
long, slivery strands untangling magically. I adjusted my grip on my weapon, lowering
it so it wasn’t pointing directly at him, but I wasn’t ready to set it down. I
was more than a little confused about his sudden presence and the fact he was
alone. The urge to look over my shoulder for the blood thirsty Redcaps and
pointy teeth goblins kept niggling at me, but I managed to keep my eyes on the
tall elf.

“What are you
doing here?” I asked, proud to hear how calm my voice sounded, despite how
terrified I was only moments ago. Balor padded over to me, circling around
behind me before halting at my side, sitting on his haunches. I placed my empty
hand on his head, petting his fur in thanks. Gwyn didn’t answer me right away;
in fact, he didn’t even look at me when I spoke. Instead, he continued to fuss
with his clothing, making sure his pants were dirt free and his boots were
straight and tugged in place over his knees. When he was satisfied a smudge of
dirt was out of his grey silk shirtsleeve, he turned his eyes on me.

Looking into his
black eyes was creepy enough, not having seen their like since I faced Noufaro
the soul hungry water nymph, but the disdain he leveled on me made my stomach
churn. What the hell was his problem?

“So happy to see
you too, Chuckles,” I said, arching a brow at him. He lowered his eyes to my
hand and the crossbow, then quickly looked back into my face. I pursed my lips
as I glanced between my weapon and his face as well, considering how much I
trusted him. I settled for crossing my arms, keeping it gripped in my hand but
tucking it under an arm.

“Happy?” I asked,
but by the look on his face, I could tell he wasn’t. Well, that was just too
damn bad; I wouldn’t put the thing down. When he still didn’t speak, I refused
to say anything. So far I’d been the only one talking, and he could either talk
to me or let this get awkward. Whatever he wanted was fine by me.

“You stole from
me,” he finally said, surprising me more than his sudden appearance had.

“Excuse me?” I
demanded, my face screwing up into a mask of confusion.

“When you left,”
he said, “you stole from me.”

“It was only a
little food,” I argued. “I thought that was for everyone. I didn’t take that
much.”

“Not the food,”
he said coolly, bringing his hands in front of him, lacing his long fingers
together. “Though, I suppose that is something else you stole.”

“What then?”

“You stole one
of my horses and my dog.”

“I did not!” I
exclaimed, trying and failing to keep from looking at either Balor or Fearghus.

“I can see them,
you know,” he said, tilting his head to the side slightly.

I glared up at
him, uncrossing my arms to wave at Fearghus as I said, “Fine, I took the horse;
you’re right. But I did not take Balor.”

“He is sitting
right beside you,” Gwyn said, speaking slowly as if I had a mental deficiency.

“I know that,” I
said, rolling my eyes, barely keeping myself from throwing my hands up in the
air. “But I didn’t take him; he followed me when I left.” Gwyn stared at me for
so long I nearly started to squirm. I managed to square my shoulders and glare
back, refusing to be cowed. I told him the truth and had nothing to feel
awkward about.

“And so what if
I did take Fearghus?” I said, unable to keep myself from breaking the silence.
“No one was riding him. You have, like, six horses without riders; what’s the
difference?”

“Because they will
have riders,” he said. I took a moment to realize what he meant, but when I
did, I felt kind of stupid for not thinking about it.

“I didn’t
realize,” I said, stopping when Gwyn made a rude noise, interrupting me.

“Humans rarely
do,” he said, arching one brow at me before turning and walking over to
Fearghus. Balor growled for me, his hackles rising at the insult. I was getting
pretty sick and tired of being called “human” as if it was some sort of disease
or curse.

“What are you
doing?” I demanded, realizing he was reaching for Fearghus’s reins to get him
turned around.

“I am taking my
horse back,” he replied without looking at me.

“No, you can’t,”
I said, rushing over, trying to snatch the reins away from him, but both Gwyn
and Fearghus were much taller than me, and it wasn’t exactly difficult for him
to keep the reins out of my reach.

He held the reins
up, making me swipe at air. “I can and I will. You should count yourself
blessed that all I am doing is taking the animals back. You stole from the Slaugh;
I could do much, much worse. You wouldn’t like to know what has happened to
your sweet Jacob.” Rather than yell, he dropped his voice until he spoke almost
in a whisper, sending a chill down my back. I lifted my chin, trying to look
unaffected by his threat.

“Look, I’m
sorry, but you can’t just leave me out here alone,” I said, dropping my hand,
keeping the crossbow gripped in the other. I thought about threatening him with
it, but I didn’t think that would be the smartest thing I could do. “I don’t
understand why you’re suddenly so angry! You’re the one who told me how to get
out of here; did you really expect me to stick around? Did you really think I
wasn’t going to try to leave?” Gwyn didn’t answer me; he just checked the
saddle and tugged on his gloves. Fearghus began to dance in place, strangely
nervous. Gwyn jumped into the saddle, floating in the air weightlessly.

“Balor,” Gwyn
called once he was saddled on Fearghus’s back. “Balor! To me!”

I turned to look
at Balor, who hadn’t moved. A knot loosened in my chest when Balor lowered his
body to lie on the ground, flattening his red ears against his head and
growling low.

“I don’t think
he wants to go with you,” I said, trying to keep the snide tone out of my
voice, though I’m not sure how successful I was.

“Don’t you dare
try to come back, do you understand me?” Gwyn said as he reeled Fearghus around
to face down river. As if realizing what Gwyn planned, Fearghus whinnied and
bucked, trying to unseat Gwyn. Unfortunately, Gwyn was a natural in the saddle,
moving easily to keep his balance.

“I wasn’t
planning on it, thanks,” I shot back. I watched Fearghus, catching his eye
after he shook his head, trying to rip the reins out of Gwyn’s grasp. I don’t
think I had ever seen a horse look sad before, but just then I knew exactly
what it looked like.

“Enough,” Gwyn
snapped, whipping Fearghus’s hindquarter with the ends of the reins, making him
jump in surprise.

“Stop!” I
yelled, reaching out to punch Gwyn in the thigh before I could think about what
I was doing. “He doesn’t want to go with you either, damn it!” The next few
seconds seemed to stretch into forever. Fearghus screamed, rearing up to kick
his front hooves in the air. Gwyn’s fingers curled into a fist as he drew his
hand back. Balor barked somewhere behind me as he bounded toward me, but he was
far too late. As Fearghus landed on all four hooves again, Gwyn let his hand
fly.

Gwyn’s fist
slammed into my cheek before I could duck. The world spun as I went reeling in
a confused tumble. My cheek was on fire as the skin split open and warm blood
trickled down, dripping from my jaw. I landed on the ground in a puff of dust,
coughing and blinking back the surprised tears. I rolled over in time to see
Balor’s teeth clamp around Gwyn’s calf, making him yell. He punched Balor’s
muzzle, making him release his hold. Gwyn put his heels to Fearghus and was
gone in the next moment as he shifted his surroundings and left the river,
forest, and us behind.

Chapter 16

The river water
was shockingly cold on my face. I hissed at the sting, squeezing my eyes shut
and gritting my teeth against the string of curses just itching to be let out.
Gritting my teeth made the muscles of my jaw and cheeks jump, sending a sharp
pain right into my brain.

“Bad idea,” I
whispered, working my jaw apart, trying to relax it. Balor sat next to me, his
ears pin straight as he turned his head back and forth, watching all
directions.

“I don’t think
he’s coming back, Balor.” I held the cuff of my sleeve against my cheek to stop
the bleeding. Sitting back on my heels, I reached out with my other hand to
touch the top of his head. Balor flinched at my light touch. Whipping his head
to face me, I saw the red of his eyes was nearly black.

“It’s okay,” I
said gently, lifting my hand again and making sure he saw me moving it toward
him before I petted his head. “Damn, dirty elf,” I muttered. I pulled my hand
away from my face and looked at the red stain on the grey fabric, the cold air
stinging my swollen skin. I touched the cut with my fingers. They came away
with only a little bit of blood.

Getting to my
feet, I walked over to retrieve the crossbow I had thrown when Gwyn hit me.
Balor was hot on my heels, afraid to let me out of his sight. The dart-like
arrow had come out of the crossbow and landed a few feet away, but it was,
thankfully, undamaged. The looking glass was exactly where I left it, hidden in
the shadow of the tree roots. I was so grateful Gwyn hadn’t noticed it;
something told me he would’ve either taken it or tried to destroy it. I was so
happy it hadn’t been in Fearghus’s saddle bag.

I held the looking
glass up in front of my face. Seeing myself in the black glass was difficult, but
I could tell my left cheek was swollen. The cut was a grotesque gash of red,
and my left eye was starting to show signs of turning black. If I ever set eyes
on that black-eyed elf again, I would pay him back in kind. Heaven help him if
I couldn’t reach his face and I had to get creative with my payback.

I tucked the looking
glass in my belt at the small of my back, situating it until it was
comfortable. I would’ve liked to tuck the crossbow away too, but there was no
way to make that comfortable. Now that I was on foot, I felt much more
vulnerable, so I felt better having it in my hand, ready to use. I was just
lucky I still had the quiver hanging from my belt and that only a couple of the
arrows that had fallen were crushed under Fearghus’s panicked hooves.

“Well,” I said
to Balor, ever at my side, “I guess that’s everything. We might as well be on
our way.” I didn’t think Gwyn would be back, but I didn’t want to take any
chances. After that commotion, I didn’t want to hang out any longer in case
we’d attracted any beasties’ attention.

We moved away
from the river, taking to the trees for some cover now that we didn’t have to
account for Fearghus’s massive size. Hiding between the trees and shadows was
much easier, which gave me a small measure of relief now that I was on foot. After
just a couple of hours, my feet throbbed in my boots and my back ached. I cursed
Gwyn’s name. Poor Balor kept having to double back to find me; his natural
stride and speed were three times that of mine, so he kept leaving me behind
unintentionally. I seriously considered climbing onto Balor’s back.

At one point I
could hear something nearby, snuffling the ground, crunching over twigs as it
moved. Despite my aching muscles, I was up in a tree faster than I thought
possible, hiding among the leaves and crisscrossing branches. Balor stood at
the base of the tree, his teeth bared, ready for attack. When two of the
chicken-like creatures broke through the brush, Balor let out a bark and
pounced on one of them, crushing it under his paws before snapping the neck
with his jaw. The other one, sadly, got away, but I didn’t care. We finally had
food.

Cleaning the
animal was one of the most horrific things I’d ever done, and that included
plunging my anthame into that nymph’s chest. More than once I had to stop and
walk away from the dead animal and wash my hands in the river to get my stomach
under control. I was actually grateful that my stomach was empty while I did that;
I would’ve probably lost anything in it.

Balor helped me
find kindling and branches to build a fire, but when it came time to actually
light the fire, I sat there staring at the pile of wood. I had nothing to light
it with since my flint was still in my stolen saddlebag. I wished I could call
on my inner fire, like I had taught Steven, in this land without magic.