Talon (The Astor Chronicles Book 1) (38 page)

In front of us was a narrow canyon with wind whistling through it. The Tanzan Chasm was an enormous rent in the ground revealing the swirling layers of rock that made up the land beneath the surface. Other than the multi-coloured boulders and scrubby bushes dotting the ground, the chasm seemed empty as far as we could see. Jagged rocks and roots stood out from the steep walls.

In the early afternoon light most of the chasm floor was in shadow. Up higher the rocks glowed orange and gold. The river was about two thirds the width of the River Jarvi, meaning we could easily see across to the other side. It rushed down into the canyon, crashing into the rock walls, which boomed and echoed like a summer storm.

‘Incredible,’ Sarlice commented.

‘You’ve been through this area before, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, but I never even knew this was here. The line most people take on their way to Telby City goes through Ubu, completely missing this chasm.’

‘How long will it take to reach the end?’

‘Eight days or so.’

‘Then we’d best get started,’ I said, glancing behind us. ‘Surely the Zeikas aren’t far.’

We walked the horses down a steep grade and entered the chasm on the south side of the river. Our initial descent between the south wall of the canyon and the edge of the river was very tight with barely enough room to walk the horses. Their hooves slipped on the moist, sandy rocks and we had to coax them over many large stone slabs with feed. The wind squealed like a chariot of ghost horses around us, but nothing compared with the booming of the water. It was like being stuck in a tunnel filled with thunder.

The chasm widened gradually so that three horses could have stood nose to tail between the river and the south wall. More boulders and rocks were strewn across the ground preventing us from moving as fast as usual. We travelled downwards for a long while before finding level ground. In the shadows of the chasm walls the stream seemed deeper and blacker.

Small plants grew up the rock walls, reeds and rushes became thicker along the river and I could see moss and strange purple grasses on the rock floor. We travelled peacefully for the rest of the day, moving south away from the river so we could hear each other. We found no indication that anyone else had been this way in a long time.

That night Sarlice and I ate a meal she’d prepared from a hare she shot during the day. It was good to see her gaining the use of her arms enough to wield the hefty warbow. Afterwards I scrubbed our dishes clean with leaves and stowed them hastily in my packs. I was hesitant to get the sleeping gear out, scrunching my hair as I looked back the way we had come.

‘You look worried,’ Sarlice said.

‘It doesn’t feel safe to stop here. Now that we’re in the chasm, there’s only one way to run.’

‘We don’t have to stop. We could try riding through the nights,’ Sarlice suggested. ‘Tie ourselves to the saddles.’

‘I don’t like the sound of that,’ I replied. ‘It’s not real sleep.’

‘I slept well enough in your arms,’ Sarlice argued, ‘on the ride to Ubu.’

I glanced up at her choice of words, tempted to offer her my arms once more.

‘We could do it again,’ she said. ‘Ride double with one of us asleep and just walk through the night.’

‘I don’t think I can sleep on horseback,’ I said, glancing up at the sky.

‘I was jesting,’ my guide said smirking at me.

I snickered softly at myself. My mind was too fatigued to recognise when I was being teased.

Sarlice raised her eyebrows at me. ‘Let’s both sleep and let the Rada-kin linger far enough behind to give us fair warning of the enemy’s approach. We will only linger a few hours at a time.’

‘A compromise?’ I bantered. ‘How diplomatic of you, Ambassador Sarlice.’

‘Indeed it is, Ambassador Talon.’

As the days went by Sarlice used a variety of technique to build her strength. She and I discussed the use of swords as we rode and I learned what I could from Sarlice’s greater skill and experience. I sat watching her one evening as she practiced with her sword. The disciplined movements, mental focus and agility she displayed were the fruit of nine years of practice.

I settled back onto my bedroll, half-closing my eyes. The Lythian warrior parried within the firelight, placed her feet carefully and kept looking to her side and behind, reinforcing a habit that served her well in battle. I held my breath, thanking the Lightmaker for blessing me with such a competent guide and companion.

It wasn’t easy for her to get back to the fitness she’d had before. Though she tried not to show it she had a frustrated expression sometimes. Her shoulder injury still pained her and she specifically targeted that arm in her swordplay, increasing the strain on it gradually. I watched her until I fell asleep and dreamed of a woman made of flames, untouchable perfection.

My sleep had been fitful since Ubu—with the threat of Zeikas coming at us from behind or even above, I found it difficult to stay asleep.

Six days without proper rest saw us fast asleep under the shade of some trees.

‘Awake Rada!’
Rekala cried.
‘Enemies draw nigh.’

I knew from her mind that we didn’t have much time to break camp. Sarlice roused at the same time, no doubt hearing from Kestric. With a wordless glance we saddled the horses and packed everything vital.

‘You run with Duria and Fleetfoot,’ I said. ‘I’ll take wolf form and follow you.’

‘Are you sure you can after just waking up?’

I rubbed the grime out of my eyes and doused my head with water from a bag hanging on Fleetfoot’s tack. ‘Yes. Ride now. Hurry!’

She trotted away, looking backwards to make sure I was successful in my transformation. I reached for the Kriite magic, calling on Sy-tré to help me. Rekala and Kestric loped passed me just as I staggered down into wolf form. The sound of galloping hooves sent us on our way, three wolves running flat out over the rocky terrain. Ahead of us, Sarlice pushed the horses into a gallop, shouting to urge Duria on.

My lungs burned with dehydration, the short sip I’d taken on waking not enough to quench my thirst. My head pounded with pain as the thundering behind us grew loud enough to compete with the booming river. With my keen wolf hearing, I could hear the Zeikas shouting to their mounts in Reltic and their whips cracking.

As we ran, I sent a question to Kestric via the waves,
‘Can you ask Sarlice if there’s anything we need to do before passing through the Tanzan barrier?’

‘Aye,’
he said, conversing with her outside of my wave perceptions.
‘She says she doesn’t think so. It’s only non-believers who dare not enter. The holy fire burns them, but we are protected by our bond with Sy-tré.’

As hooves thundered behind us, Rekala and I were both reminded of our capture in the fields near Tez. Not wanting to go through that again, we turned in unison and lunged at the nearest rider. The Zeika was caught off guard, and was unable to do anything but crash to the ground. Rekala snarled and struggled to bite through the Zeika’s protective armour. I looked up at the oncoming Zeikas and then back at Sarlice.

My guide had drawn Duria to a halt, but Fleetfoot would have none of it, and charged right on through the shimmering wall of purple and blue I could see in the distance. The barrier stretched up and out of the chasm in a giant ball, presumably extending over the entirety of Tanza.

Seeing that we were about to engage the rest of the Zeikas, Sarlice dismounted, dropped the reins of her horse and roared into firetiger form. It was the first time I had seen her in the same form as her Rada-kin, and it filled me with awe. Bigger than Kestric, but not quite as big as Rekala, Sarlice bristled with healthy, orange fur, which was striped and spotted all over and had long blood red guard hairs. She stood with her head lowered and her back arched, snarling with such ferocity I felt an instinct to turn and run.
A wolf would never attempt to fight a firetiger alone
, I thought.

Rekala resumed her natural form and killed the Zeika in front of her with one crushing bite to his neck. Her sabre-like teeth passed right through his armour. Following her lead, Kestric and I took tiger form. Along with Sarlice, we lined up to face the oncoming sorcerors. At least in this form, the four of us could not easily be distinguised from each other. If the Zeikas wanted me alive then they couldn’t risk killing any of us.

‘Unless they know Sarlice and Kestric are the firetigers,’
Rekala warned. She and I were all the colours of the mountains.

Three Zeika knights charged towards us, covered from head to foot in bronze armour. Sarlice and Kestric darted in, knocking one of the knights off his mount. The second was carrying a black partisan with a jagged arrow point on the tip, which I ducked to avoid. Rekala roared in fury and sprang, only to be knocked back by a wall of green fire.

‘Tiaro!’
I wave-shouted. The earring was already fully alert, sensing the magic that the Zeikas wrought.

‘More time,’
she hissed.
‘I need more time.’

Rekala shook her head in pain and ran blindly towards the fray, swiping and slashing.

‘Get out of here, Rada-kin,’
I ordered her. I injected my vision of the way into her mind so that she could run in the right direction.

‘I’m sorry, Talon,’
she said, running for the barrier. Without the use of her eyes, she could do no more to help us.

Hoping and praying her burns weren’t bad, I returned my attention to the attacking Zeikas. The third knight was riding straight for me, but Sarlice reached her paw out to trip the horse. It staggered enough to dislodge its rider, then pivoted and galloped back the way they’d come. I raked my claws into the falling knight’s body, forcing myself to ignore his screams of anguish. The man stabbed his sword forwards, scathing my belly as I sprung back.

Saliva collected at my jowls as I snarled at the three. The first knight had recovered from falling and was whispering incantations under his breath. A bird-like shadow was starting to take shape in the air.

‘No!’
I cried.
‘By the Lightmaker, no!’

But it was no good. The conjuration burst to life and soared towards Sarlice. The other two Zeikas advanced on me, one carrying a lasso. I hunched low to the ground, gathered my strength and leapt. The lasso man screamed as I knocked him to the ground, but I couldn’t get my teeth close to his throat. The other man threw himself at me, jabbing my side with his partisan.

I fought frantically to get the fallen Zeika’s platemail away from his neck so I could kill him, but my fangs just slid off. Furious, I dug teeth into his arm.
Pain!
My teeth jammed deep in the ring mail. Despite the pain, I held my deathgrip. Using the power in my neck, I hauled him against a rock, causing his helm to fly off. He became my human shield against the other Zeika and died from a blow to the head by his comrade.

Sarlice and Kestric struggled against the third Zeika and his conjuration, circling and running away when either got too close. They would both run in to nip the human from opposite directions, but couldn’t make any real damage without risking injury from the death hawk.

The other Zeika stepped towards me, holding the partisan out in front of him. I bared my teeth and growled, laid back my ears and lifted my paw to strike. At that moment, Sarlice landed a fierce enough blow on her attacker’s calf and the man collapsed to the ground. His conjuration vanished just inches from Sarlice’s head and Kestric jumped on the fallen Zeika, killing him.

The man who was facing me held his hand out to cast fire. In the distance behind him, there were a dozen more mounted Zeikas, four of them carrying nets between them. The ones we had faced had only been scouts, I concluded, sent to delay us even if it meant their deaths.

‘Run!’
I wave-shouted to Kestric.

Leaving the third Zeika behind us, we fled in tiger form. Sarlice stopped for long enough to take human form and drag Duria after her. The Zeikas were coming up much faster than the stubborn mare would go and the barrier was too far away. Kestric and I split up, causing the riders to break into three groups. Bolts of fire and metal sailed toward us. Sarlice turned to throw a knife at one of the Zeikas closing on her. Kestric roared, frightening the horses who were racing after him.

A few seconds later we had reconverged and the Tanzan barrier shield was before me. Up this close it was like a ball of lightning, crackling and humming with untold power.
Can we really touch it and survive?
I wondered, filling my lungs with air. My teachers in Jaria had always spoken of a time in my life when I would have to take a leap of faith—now could very well be that time. Would my bond with Sy-tré really protect me?

With a roar that shook the ground I ran back between Sarlice and the Zeikas. Flames billowed towards us, but the barrier shield seemed to have an aura around it which sucked the magic up and away. Kestric and Duria plunged through the barrier and vanished. Letting go of her horse Sarlice made a grab for the thick fur around my neck and tried to pull me after her into the realm of Tanza. I pushed her through with the tip of my nose and turned to claw a spear with a trailing net aside.

With one last snarl at the Zeikas I spun and leapt to safety, barely registering the arrow that scraped my tail.

As soon as I passed through the barrier the only things I could see were clouds—billowing whiteness with a hint of pink and jade. Shadows and streaks of light competed among the flipping, fleeting haze. My arms flailed as I fell backwards, shooting down through the endless sky, weightless. A dark hole appeared in the clouds above me, quickly transforming into a hawk-shaped blot. It descended on me, claws outstretched. I curled into a ball.

‘Krii!’ I cried involuntarily, fear curving my tone into the desperate squall of a child.

‘Lift your hands to me.’

I whimpered in protest. The hawk would tear my arms off. Its form grew larger. I unfurled my body, forcing the muscles to obey. In my mind I saw the deep gouges in my wrist, remembering the most terrifying moment of my childhood as if it was happening all over again. But it wasn’t.