The Silvered by Tanya Huff Page B

spun her around, coughing and choking. A wave closed over her head. If not for her skirts, the water would have tumbled her end over end, but the weight kept her upright enough that when her legs hit another rock, she managed to push off and surface. A glimpse of quiet water between her and the shore, then she was under again.
    The next rock she hit, she hit with the entire right side of her body. Before the river swept her away, she managed to get her arm around it, leg bent high, foot jammed into a crack. Pushing off with everything she had left, she rose up out of the water far enough to twist down over the rock into the quiet pool.
    Cold and hurting, she thrashed her way to the shore and flopped out onto the mud.

    Every movement disturbed the flies that covered the dead. Clouds of them rose from where they were feasting and laying eggs to swarm around his muzzle, trying to land in his mouth and on his eyes. Tomas shook his head to dislodge them and wished he could shake a thought back into it. Should he join the battle still going on, deep in the Aydori woods? Or should he join what was left of the Pack in Trouge and bring them—bring Danika—the news that Ryder was dead. She’d need to know. They’d all need to know. The Pack was leaderless now.
    Tail clamped tight, he limped back and forth across the scar in the earth that still smelled of his brother, wishing someone would just appear and tell him what to do.
    Because Ryder was dead and…
    Ears up, he turned toward the river. He could hear voices; two men speaking Pyrahn. Pyrahn soldiers, having run from the duchy with the Imperials on their heels, had fought and died beside the Pack and the Aydori 1st. Maybe these men were wounded. Maybe he could help them. Maybe they’d know what he should do.
    It wasn’t easy covering uneven terrain with one front leg unable to bear his full weight, but for the sake of doing something, of doing anything, he managed it. Moving toward the voices, he picked his way diagonally down the slope toward the river, going around obstacles he’d have jumped without thinking another time. At the water’s edge, he turned upstream. The men were no longer talking, but he thought he knew where they were. Or had been. He moved a little faster.
    Rounding one of the many stumps created by artillery fire, he saw a pair of old men bent over a body, stripping it of its uniform. An Aydori uniform. The same green and brown Harry’d worn yesterday morning when he’d died standing between Pyrahn refugees and the Imperial army.
    Not soldiers. Scavengers.
    Tomas launched himself forward, forgetting the pain. He couldn’t stop the howl from ripping free. He was close enough the warning didn’t matter. The scavengers jerked away from the half-naked body, but before they could run, he crushed the scream in the throat of the man nearest the water, taking him down, tearing out mouthfuls of flesh. When he turned, blood dripping from his muzzle, the other man was running up toward the larger trees.
    Stupid man. He had hands. He could climb after him.
    No. The silver in the wound kept him from changing. He had to end the chase before his quarry reached a tree large enough to climb.
    Leaping the body, Tomas stumbled and nearly fell as the impact of his paw with the ground shot lines of pain out from the impacted piece of silver. He switched back to three legs and kept going. Uphill was easier than down and rage lent him strength.
    They reached the ridge together. Tomas lunged forward and closed his teeth on a mouthful of filthy fabric. This close, even over the blood still coating his muzzle, he could smell young man, not old and under that, something sharp, bitter…if hunger had scent…
    A bare heel slammed into his bad shoulder.
    Tumbling back down the slope, Tomas landed on his left side, pawed the cloth from his teeth, and, snarling, fought his way back onto his feet in time to see the surviving scavenger dive through a break in the trees and run