Hand of the Hunter: Chosen of Nendawen, Book II by Mark Sehestedt Page B
Authors: Mark Sehestedt
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two.
Hweilan clamped her jaw shut, but her body betrayed her. Try as she might, pure instinct took over, and she inhaled, filling her lungs with water.
The water’s roar became an explosion. For a moment she felt herself going down and down, water above crushing her, and then …
Hweilan sat up and retched so hard that her ears popped. Water and bile poured out her mouth and both nostrils,splattering the ground in front of her. She took in a ragged breath, then retched some more. Again and again, until she fell over on her side, her eyes closed, panting like a dog.
Never had she felt so wretched. Every fiber and pore of her body, inside and out, pulsed with pain. But she was alive, and every ragged breath filled her body with air. She lay there a long time, listening to her own hammering heart and labored breathing. Before, up on the hill, she’d been shivering from the cold. But suddenly, she was shaking so hard that she could feel her flesh bruising against the rocks. But she couldn’t muster the strength to move.
After the fall, after drowning …
She didn’t know. Had no idea how she’d come here. Come … where?
Hweilan opened her eyes. She lay on a bed of stones—gravel really, though each one was round and smooth as river stones. Lifting her head, she saw that a black pool lapped the shore just beyond her toes.
Hweilan rolled over onto her stomach, forced herself to her hands and knees, then fell into another coughing fit that tinged the world red. When she was able to breathe again, she raised her head and looked through the wet lanks of her hair.
The red tinge hadn’t been just brought on by her coughing. She was in a cavern. Stalactites large as temple columns hung from the ceiling above. Some had melded with similar columns springing from the floor and formed pillars of rock that glistened in the red light. Roots poked out from the ceiling, some twisting around the stalactites in thick braids. Long strings of lichen and spiderwebs dangled between the stone like thin curtains. They waved back and forth slowly, almost as if the cave were breathing.
Hweilan looked around, searching for the source of the light. It wasn’t red like fire or late sunset, but it completely filled the far side of the cavern away from the pool. She could find no direct source. Even the columns of stone cast no shadow. It was almost as if the rock itself glowed.
Hweilan pushed herself to her feet. Her legs felt hollow and brittle. Looking down, she saw that under her right breast a swath of skin wider than her palms had been raked away, and blood oozed down flesh that was already turning an angry purple. She could feel more blood running down her shoulder from where the woman had bitten her, and the rest of her naked body was a latticework of shallow scratches and deeper cuts, oozing blood.
From somewhere in the distant dark beyond the water, she thought she heard a voice. She almost caught the words. Just enough to stoke the memory of what Gleed had told her.
Tomorrow you will meet Kesh Naan, and it will be most dangerous if she smells blood on you
.
And here she was, smeared in her own blood and leaking more with every heartbeat.
Hweilan looked around. No one in sight. The cavern had no real walls. The ceiling simply lowered and the floor rose until they met, forming a great domed chamber. But across from her, framed by two of the columns, a cave broke through the rock. The red glow of the cavern did not penetrate there.
She couldn’t bring herself to brave the water again, and there didn’t seem to be any other way to go. She took a step forward.
And then she heard singing.
At first she thought it was just a trick of her mind, but when she stopped and listened, she heard it even clearer. A woman’s voice, coming from the darkness of the cave. There were words in the music, but in no tongue she’d ever heard before. Still, something in the cadence and melody reminded her of the songs her mother had sung to
Hweilan clamped her jaw shut, but her body betrayed her. Try as she might, pure instinct took over, and she inhaled, filling her lungs with water.
The water’s roar became an explosion. For a moment she felt herself going down and down, water above crushing her, and then …
Hweilan sat up and retched so hard that her ears popped. Water and bile poured out her mouth and both nostrils,splattering the ground in front of her. She took in a ragged breath, then retched some more. Again and again, until she fell over on her side, her eyes closed, panting like a dog.
Never had she felt so wretched. Every fiber and pore of her body, inside and out, pulsed with pain. But she was alive, and every ragged breath filled her body with air. She lay there a long time, listening to her own hammering heart and labored breathing. Before, up on the hill, she’d been shivering from the cold. But suddenly, she was shaking so hard that she could feel her flesh bruising against the rocks. But she couldn’t muster the strength to move.
After the fall, after drowning …
She didn’t know. Had no idea how she’d come here. Come … where?
Hweilan opened her eyes. She lay on a bed of stones—gravel really, though each one was round and smooth as river stones. Lifting her head, she saw that a black pool lapped the shore just beyond her toes.
Hweilan rolled over onto her stomach, forced herself to her hands and knees, then fell into another coughing fit that tinged the world red. When she was able to breathe again, she raised her head and looked through the wet lanks of her hair.
The red tinge hadn’t been just brought on by her coughing. She was in a cavern. Stalactites large as temple columns hung from the ceiling above. Some had melded with similar columns springing from the floor and formed pillars of rock that glistened in the red light. Roots poked out from the ceiling, some twisting around the stalactites in thick braids. Long strings of lichen and spiderwebs dangled between the stone like thin curtains. They waved back and forth slowly, almost as if the cave were breathing.
Hweilan looked around, searching for the source of the light. It wasn’t red like fire or late sunset, but it completely filled the far side of the cavern away from the pool. She could find no direct source. Even the columns of stone cast no shadow. It was almost as if the rock itself glowed.
Hweilan pushed herself to her feet. Her legs felt hollow and brittle. Looking down, she saw that under her right breast a swath of skin wider than her palms had been raked away, and blood oozed down flesh that was already turning an angry purple. She could feel more blood running down her shoulder from where the woman had bitten her, and the rest of her naked body was a latticework of shallow scratches and deeper cuts, oozing blood.
From somewhere in the distant dark beyond the water, she thought she heard a voice. She almost caught the words. Just enough to stoke the memory of what Gleed had told her.
Tomorrow you will meet Kesh Naan, and it will be most dangerous if she smells blood on you
.
And here she was, smeared in her own blood and leaking more with every heartbeat.
Hweilan looked around. No one in sight. The cavern had no real walls. The ceiling simply lowered and the floor rose until they met, forming a great domed chamber. But across from her, framed by two of the columns, a cave broke through the rock. The red glow of the cavern did not penetrate there.
She couldn’t bring herself to brave the water again, and there didn’t seem to be any other way to go. She took a step forward.
And then she heard singing.
At first she thought it was just a trick of her mind, but when she stopped and listened, she heard it even clearer. A woman’s voice, coming from the darkness of the cave. There were words in the music, but in no tongue she’d ever heard before. Still, something in the cadence and melody reminded her of the songs her mother had sung to
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