“Please!”
As her plea registered, she felt
Shadowdancer’s emotions, and his resolve to stay out of the fight waiver. He
would do anything for her; he couldn’t deny a Herd Mistress. He took a half
step forward, his ears still pinned. However, the line of Acolytes effectively
blocked him from reaching Lamarra and the others.
The stallion skidded to a halt
once again and started back to the archway. “I’m sorry, but this is no fight
for us. We’ll be useless to Lamarra, Flame, and my sister dead.”
While Sorsha conceded that
Shadowdancer was probably correct, it still didn’t sit well with her. All she
could do was ball her fists and watch.
A low chanting filled the meadow,
its tone soft, eerie, and yet chillingly beautiful. Unable to stop herself,
Sorsha looked away from the danger of advancing humans and to the tall male
Phoenix. His song grew stronger, and he lifted his arms up above his head. Fire
leapt up between the Tomb Guards and the charging Acolytes. Several horses
squealed in terror, shying away from the magic fire, some dumping their riders
and bolting back in the direction they’d come.
“Lamarra!” Sorsha’s voice cracked
with strain, but if her sister heard her over the crackle of magic fire, she
made no response.
A second wall of fire sprang up
from the ground several spans in front of where Sorsha stood, the fiery barrier
blocking her view of Lamarra, her Tomb Guard captors, and the Acolytes. Heat
washed against Sorsha’s skin in waves, wisps of her hair swirled around her
face, caught in the hot updraft. Sorsha turned her face away from a heat so
severe it starved her lungs for air. Coughing and squinting past her streaming
tears, she tried to make out Summer Flame and Lamarra through the flames.
The inferno danced higher, pieces
sheering off to float up into the tree canopy above her head. Moving with slow
purpose, the fire crawled closer to her position. Shadowdancer shied back a
stride, and then another. In that moment, Sorsha suspected the magic’s true
purpose. The wall wasn’t designed to stop or attack the enemy, instead it was
herding Shadowdancer closer to the open Archway of the Wild Path.
A human form leaped through the
flames, cloak blazing with the same unnatural fire. At first Sorsha thought it
was Lamarra, escaped from her captors, but joy turned to hate a heartbeat later
as wind whipped up by the raging fire blew the newcomer’s hood back. The
Acolyte’s blank eyes focused on her unwaveringly. Nothing registered on his
features. Not the presence of the arch at her back, nor the wall of fire advancing
upon his. Not even his burning cloak was enough to sway him from his prey.
Something snapped within Sorsha.
She was a Stonemantle. And a Stonemantle was not prey.
A tight knot of power, one she’d
come to accept as her sleeping Larnkin, stirred, its magic unfurling anew.
Pressure built within her body. The tingling soon turned to a burning as her Larnkin
reached out with its wraithlike touch. Waves of power expanded out, a wash of
energy cascading down her arms and legs. The hair on the back of her neck
lifted, gooseflesh raced down her body, and a misty blue glow, flame-like and
ever changing, burst to life along her body to outline her with glowing power.
The Acolyte stopped as something
flickered in his eyes. It wasn’t fear, or the relentless hunger she’d come to
expect. No, this was another emotion. Scarier. Whatever controlled the man
looked upon her with interest...curiosity. As if it was seeing something new in
need of study.
Her arm rose to the level of her
shoulder, palm up, her fingers uncurling. The gesture would have been less
alarming if she’d actually lifted her arm herself. But control of her body
seemed to have been commandeered by her Larnkin. With a small part of her
shock-slowed mind, she admitted if she hadn’t already seen so much magic, she’d
probably be screaming right about now. As it was, her stomach was tied into a
heavy lump and
As her plea registered, she felt
Shadowdancer’s emotions, and his resolve to stay out of the fight waiver. He
would do anything for her; he couldn’t deny a Herd Mistress. He took a half
step forward, his ears still pinned. However, the line of Acolytes effectively
blocked him from reaching Lamarra and the others.
The stallion skidded to a halt
once again and started back to the archway. “I’m sorry, but this is no fight
for us. We’ll be useless to Lamarra, Flame, and my sister dead.”
While Sorsha conceded that
Shadowdancer was probably correct, it still didn’t sit well with her. All she
could do was ball her fists and watch.
A low chanting filled the meadow,
its tone soft, eerie, and yet chillingly beautiful. Unable to stop herself,
Sorsha looked away from the danger of advancing humans and to the tall male
Phoenix. His song grew stronger, and he lifted his arms up above his head. Fire
leapt up between the Tomb Guards and the charging Acolytes. Several horses
squealed in terror, shying away from the magic fire, some dumping their riders
and bolting back in the direction they’d come.
“Lamarra!” Sorsha’s voice cracked
with strain, but if her sister heard her over the crackle of magic fire, she
made no response.
A second wall of fire sprang up
from the ground several spans in front of where Sorsha stood, the fiery barrier
blocking her view of Lamarra, her Tomb Guard captors, and the Acolytes. Heat
washed against Sorsha’s skin in waves, wisps of her hair swirled around her
face, caught in the hot updraft. Sorsha turned her face away from a heat so
severe it starved her lungs for air. Coughing and squinting past her streaming
tears, she tried to make out Summer Flame and Lamarra through the flames.
The inferno danced higher, pieces
sheering off to float up into the tree canopy above her head. Moving with slow
purpose, the fire crawled closer to her position. Shadowdancer shied back a
stride, and then another. In that moment, Sorsha suspected the magic’s true
purpose. The wall wasn’t designed to stop or attack the enemy, instead it was
herding Shadowdancer closer to the open Archway of the Wild Path.
A human form leaped through the
flames, cloak blazing with the same unnatural fire. At first Sorsha thought it
was Lamarra, escaped from her captors, but joy turned to hate a heartbeat later
as wind whipped up by the raging fire blew the newcomer’s hood back. The
Acolyte’s blank eyes focused on her unwaveringly. Nothing registered on his
features. Not the presence of the arch at her back, nor the wall of fire advancing
upon his. Not even his burning cloak was enough to sway him from his prey.
Something snapped within Sorsha.
She was a Stonemantle. And a Stonemantle was not prey.
A tight knot of power, one she’d
come to accept as her sleeping Larnkin, stirred, its magic unfurling anew.
Pressure built within her body. The tingling soon turned to a burning as her Larnkin
reached out with its wraithlike touch. Waves of power expanded out, a wash of
energy cascading down her arms and legs. The hair on the back of her neck
lifted, gooseflesh raced down her body, and a misty blue glow, flame-like and
ever changing, burst to life along her body to outline her with glowing power.
The Acolyte stopped as something
flickered in his eyes. It wasn’t fear, or the relentless hunger she’d come to
expect. No, this was another emotion. Scarier. Whatever controlled the man
looked upon her with interest...curiosity. As if it was seeing something new in
need of study.
Her arm rose to the level of her
shoulder, palm up, her fingers uncurling. The gesture would have been less
alarming if she’d actually lifted her arm herself. But control of her body
seemed to have been commandeered by her Larnkin. With a small part of her
shock-slowed mind, she admitted if she hadn’t already seen so much magic, she’d
probably be screaming right about now. As it was, her stomach was tied into a
heavy lump and
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