Daughter of Prophecy by Miles Owens

again.”
    The lad visibly gathered himself. He glanced at the other two warriors, embarrassed.
    â€œAnd we have Covenant,” Girard said. “Some stories say Destin Faber discovered how to cut these creatures off from the power they drew from the Mighty Ones. That rendered them vulnerable to swords and arrows. Many loretellers consider those accounts untrustworthy.” He regarded Tellan soberly. “But that must be what happened here.”
    â€œHow were these horrors cut off from their power?”
    â€œPerhaps someone, some group, or the monks at Kepploch learned to pray as did Destin Faber and the Founders.”
    â€œHow did they know that we needed this kind of prayer at this moment?”
    â€œHow indeed, m’lord? How indeed?” Girard tapped the arrowhead on his palm. “We have conflicting accounts about the battles before the Cutting of the Covenant. But if our lore is correct, then a siyyim had to be watching just now, controlling the horrors’ actions.”
    Rhiannon frowned. “A siyyim?”
    â€œSpirit beings second in power only to the Mighty Ones.” Girard paused, clearly struggling to come to grips with all this. “Some say that under the right circumstances a siyyim could take control of a human body and use it to carry out the Mighty Ones’ desires. Dinari clan lore does not recognize those tales.”
    Tellan growled. “Where is this siyyim? If it was controlling this attack, we must expect it to continue.”
    Rhiannon’s breath caught. She checked the hillsides and up and down the trail. Nothing.
    â€œI agree, m’lord,” Girard said. “Mistress Rhiannon will not be safe until it has been dealt with.”
    Tellan looked at her closely. “Rhiannon? You sure you’re all right?”
    She nodded numbly, although the trembling was increasing and she did not think she could stand. A siyyim was after her! And after her still! Her breathing became ragged; her teeth chattered, grinding against the dirt that coated the inside of her mouth. She ran her tongue around, trying to build up enough moisture to spit the dirt out.
    More winged horrors could appear at any moment!
    Tellan squatted beside her again. Cupping her chin, he gazed straight into her eyes. “I am so very proud of you. You faced those beasts eye to eye and did not waver.”
    She opened her mouth to tell about drawing her sword—but to her surprise, she found both her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
    Tellan enclosed her in his arms and rested his cheek on her head. “Sweet girl, my brave sweet girl.” He stroked her hair. “From the moment you were born, you have been special, very special indeed. Never fear, we shall hunt this siyyim and kill it or bind it or whatever we need to do.”
    She knew what he referred to. All of her life she had taken secret pride in her birthing prophecy that she would be “Protectoress of the Covenant.” The prophecy was seldom mentioned, and no one—not even the monks at Kepploch—had any idea what it meant. She had envisioned grand and heroic deeds accomplished to the acclaim of all. The account of the struggle with the deranged monk and her mother’s death only added to the mystique. But never, never, had Rhiannon thought it would be like this!
    Although part of her mind protested that a warrior would not do so, she buried her face in the security of her father’s chest and allowed deep shuddering sobs to overtake her.

Chapter Five
    H ARRED
    L ACHLANN LAY NESTLED on a flat shelf of land in the Clundy River valley. The river was still young here, barely beginning its journey to the Great Sea. It cascaded through the middle of town with violent energy, frothing and whirling down the boulder-cluttered bed. An arched stone bridge wide enough for two wagons to squeeze by each other linked both sides of town.
    The east bank was considered the most prestigious, and it was there