forgive,” she said.
“With hindsight, I agree.”
“Do you still mean to kill Ceska?”
“Yes.”
“Even if it means your own death?”
“Even then!”
“Then where do we go from here? To Drenan?”
He turned to her, lifting her chin with his hand.
“You still wish to travel with me?”
“Of course.”
“It’s selfish, but I am glad,” he told her.
A man’s scream broke the dawn silence, and flocks of birds rose from the trees, screeching in panic. Tenaka leapt to his feet.
“It came from over there,” shouted Renya, pointing to the northeast. Tenaka’s sword flashed into the sunlight, and he began to run, Renya only yards behind him.
A bestial howling mingled now with the screams, and Tenaka slowed his run.
“It’s a Joining,” he said as Renya caught up.
“What shall we do?”
“Damn!” he said. “Wait here.”
He ran forward over a small rise and into a narrow clearing ringed by snow-covered oak. At the center a man was crouching at the base of a tree, his tunic covered with blood and his leg hideously slashed. Before him stood a huge Joining.
Tenaka shouted as the creature lunged for the man, and the beast twisted, its blood-red eyes turning on the warrior. He knew he was looking into the eyes of death, for no man could stand against that beast and live. Renya ran to his side, her dagger held before her.
“Get back!” Tenaka ordered.
She ignored him. “What now?” she asked coolly.
The beast reared up to a full nine feet tall and spread its taloned paws wide. It was obviously part bear.
“Run!” shouted the wounded man. “Please leave me!”
“Good advice,” said Renya.
Tenaka said nothing, and the beast charged, sending a blood-chilling roar echoing through the trees. He crouched, his violet eyes fixed on the awesome creature bearing down on him.
As its shadow fell across him, he leapt forward, screaming a Nadir war cry.
And the beast vanished.
Tenaka fell to the snow, dropping his sword. He rolled to his feet instantly to face the wounded man, who was standing now and smiling. There was no trace of wounds on his blue tunic or his body.
“What the devil is happening here?” demanded Tenaka.
The man shimmered and vanished. Tenaka swung to Renya, who was standing wide-eyed and staring at the tree.
“Someone played us for fools,” said Tenaka, brushing snow from his tunic.
“But why?” asked the girl.
“I don’t know. Let us away. The forest has lost its magic.”
“They were so real,” said Renya. “I thought we were finished. Were they ghosts, do you think?”
“Who knows? Whatever they were, they left no tracks, and I have little time for such mysteries.”
“But there must have been a reason,” she persisted. “Was it done just for us?”
He shrugged, then helped her up the steep incline back to their camp.
Forty miles away four men sat silently in a small room, their eyes closed and their minds open. Then, one by one, they opened their eyes, leaning back in their chairs and stretching as if awakening from deep sleep.
Their leader, the man who had appeared to be under attack in the clearing, stood and walked to the narrow stone window, gazing out over the meadow below.
“What do you think?” he asked without looking around. The other three exchanged glances, and then one, a short stocky man with a thick yellow beard, said, “He is worthy at least. He did not hesitate to aid you.”
“Is that important?” asked the leader, still gazing from the window.
“I believe it is.”
“Tell me why, Acuas.”
“He is a man with a mission, yet he is a humanist. He was willing to risk his life—no, throw it away—rather than let a fellow human suffer alone. Light has touched him.”
“What do you say, Balan?”
“It is too early for judgments. The man may just be rash,” answered a taller, slimmer man with a shock of dry curly hair.
“Katan?”
The last man was slender, his face long and ascetic, his eyes large and sorrowful.
“With hindsight, I agree.”
“Do you still mean to kill Ceska?”
“Yes.”
“Even if it means your own death?”
“Even then!”
“Then where do we go from here? To Drenan?”
He turned to her, lifting her chin with his hand.
“You still wish to travel with me?”
“Of course.”
“It’s selfish, but I am glad,” he told her.
A man’s scream broke the dawn silence, and flocks of birds rose from the trees, screeching in panic. Tenaka leapt to his feet.
“It came from over there,” shouted Renya, pointing to the northeast. Tenaka’s sword flashed into the sunlight, and he began to run, Renya only yards behind him.
A bestial howling mingled now with the screams, and Tenaka slowed his run.
“It’s a Joining,” he said as Renya caught up.
“What shall we do?”
“Damn!” he said. “Wait here.”
He ran forward over a small rise and into a narrow clearing ringed by snow-covered oak. At the center a man was crouching at the base of a tree, his tunic covered with blood and his leg hideously slashed. Before him stood a huge Joining.
Tenaka shouted as the creature lunged for the man, and the beast twisted, its blood-red eyes turning on the warrior. He knew he was looking into the eyes of death, for no man could stand against that beast and live. Renya ran to his side, her dagger held before her.
“Get back!” Tenaka ordered.
She ignored him. “What now?” she asked coolly.
The beast reared up to a full nine feet tall and spread its taloned paws wide. It was obviously part bear.
“Run!” shouted the wounded man. “Please leave me!”
“Good advice,” said Renya.
Tenaka said nothing, and the beast charged, sending a blood-chilling roar echoing through the trees. He crouched, his violet eyes fixed on the awesome creature bearing down on him.
As its shadow fell across him, he leapt forward, screaming a Nadir war cry.
And the beast vanished.
Tenaka fell to the snow, dropping his sword. He rolled to his feet instantly to face the wounded man, who was standing now and smiling. There was no trace of wounds on his blue tunic or his body.
“What the devil is happening here?” demanded Tenaka.
The man shimmered and vanished. Tenaka swung to Renya, who was standing wide-eyed and staring at the tree.
“Someone played us for fools,” said Tenaka, brushing snow from his tunic.
“But why?” asked the girl.
“I don’t know. Let us away. The forest has lost its magic.”
“They were so real,” said Renya. “I thought we were finished. Were they ghosts, do you think?”
“Who knows? Whatever they were, they left no tracks, and I have little time for such mysteries.”
“But there must have been a reason,” she persisted. “Was it done just for us?”
He shrugged, then helped her up the steep incline back to their camp.
Forty miles away four men sat silently in a small room, their eyes closed and their minds open. Then, one by one, they opened their eyes, leaning back in their chairs and stretching as if awakening from deep sleep.
Their leader, the man who had appeared to be under attack in the clearing, stood and walked to the narrow stone window, gazing out over the meadow below.
“What do you think?” he asked without looking around. The other three exchanged glances, and then one, a short stocky man with a thick yellow beard, said, “He is worthy at least. He did not hesitate to aid you.”
“Is that important?” asked the leader, still gazing from the window.
“I believe it is.”
“Tell me why, Acuas.”
“He is a man with a mission, yet he is a humanist. He was willing to risk his life—no, throw it away—rather than let a fellow human suffer alone. Light has touched him.”
“What do you say, Balan?”
“It is too early for judgments. The man may just be rash,” answered a taller, slimmer man with a shock of dry curly hair.
“Katan?”
The last man was slender, his face long and ascetic, his eyes large and sorrowful.
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