«Run!» Lara shouted. «Go, Gerald. We've got to get off the mountain.»
Night was falling and the avalanche was not the worst they might face. The wind had stilled, but the voices remained, shrieking warnings she dared not ignore. They gripped Terry and half ran, half slid down the steep slope. Above their heads, the heavy mantle of snow had formed a wave, cresting over them, motionless like an ominous statue.
Terry left behind streaks of blood as they skidded over the icy surface. They were sweating profusely by the time they made it to the bottom. Locating their car was an easy task. In this particular area of Romania, most of the locals used carts with tires pulled by horses. Cars weren't a common sight at all and theirs, as small as it was, looked far too modern in a place centuries old.
Gerald dragged Terry through the meadow to where the car was parked beneath some naked branches. Lara turned back toward the mountain, let out her breath and clapped her hands together three times.
There was an odd, expectant pause. The wave rolled, snow dropped. The mountain slid, raising a cloud of white spray into the air.
«Lara,» Terry gasped. «You have to get these teeth out of my ankle. My leg burns like hell and I swear, something's crawling inside of me-inside my leg.»
He sprawled on the small backseat, his skin nearly gray. Sweat soaked his clothes and his breathing came in ragged gasps.
Lara knelt in the dirt and examined the hideous heads. She knew what they were-hybrids of the dark mage, bred to do his bidding. She'd seen the beginnings of them in her nightmares. The snakes injected a poisonous brew, including tiny microscopic parasites, into their victim's body. The organisms would eventually take over his body and then his brain, until he was a mere puppet to be used by the dark mage.
«I'm sorry, Terry,» she said softly. «The teeth are barbed and have to be removed carefully.»
«Then you've seen this before?» Terry gripped her wrist and held her close to him as she crouched beside the open door of the car. He was sprawled across the backseat, rocking in pain. «I don't know why, but the fact that you know what they are makes me feel better.»
It didn't make her feel any better. She'd been a child, dragged into a laboratory. The sights and smells had been so hideous she'd tried to forget them. The stench of blood. The screams. The grotesque tiny worms in a putrid ball, wiggling in a feeding frenzy, consuming blood and human flesh.
Lara took a deep breath and let it out. They didn't have much time. She needed to get Terry to a master healer who could handle such things, but she could slow the deterioration down.
Gerald looked around him, then back up at the mountain, now quiet and still. White mists swirled, but the voices were gone. Overhead the clouds grew heavier and darker, but the mountain looked pristine-untouched-certainly not as if anyone had climbed it and been attacked.
«Lara?» He sounded as puzzled as he looked. «I can't remember where we were. I can't remember how these snakes attacked Terry. Don't snakes need warm weather? What's wrong with me?»
«It doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting these teeth out of Terry's leg and getting him to the inn where someone who knows what they're doing can help him.» Someone with natural healing skills, more than doctor's skills. If they were in the vicinity where she had been held as a child, then it stood to reason someone would know how to treat a mage wound.
She closed her eyes to block out the sight of Terry's gray face and Gerald's anxious one. Deep inside, where that wealth of knowledge lay, she found her calm center. She could almost hear the whisper of her aunts' voices, directing her as the information flooded her mind. The curved fangs had a barb at the tip.
Severed head that now does bite, fangs be removed with heat and light. Draw the poison that would remain, holding the harm, stop the pain.
«There might be someone much better at taking these out,» Lara said. «We can get you to the inn fast and the couple who own it might be able to find someone for us who has dealt with this before.»
Terry shook his head. «I can't stand it, Lara. If you don't take them out now, I'm going to rip them out. I really can't stand it.»
She nodded her understanding and reached beneath her jacket for the knife on her toolbelt. «Let's get it done then. Gerald, get in the backseat on the other side and hold Terry's shoulders.» More than anything, she didn't want Gerald where some of the tainted blood might spatter onto him. The tiny microorganisms were dangerous to everyone.
Gerald obeyed her without question and Lara studied the first snake head. The hybrid was part plant, part living animal and all frightening. It was meant to take over a person, no matter what the species, and bring them under the dark mage's control. It hadn't been just Carpathians and humans he had tortured, but his own people as well. No one, not even his own family, was safe, as Lara could attest to.
She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, slamming the door on memories that were too painful, too frightening to remember when she had such a complex task before her. She had rarely used her healing abilities on anyone else in the last few years. In her childhood, she'd made the mistake several times, traveling with gypsies. She'd knit broken bones. Healed a wound from a blade that would have killed a man. Removed harmful bacteria from children's lungs. At first people would be grateful, but inevitably they would come to fear her.
Never show that you are different. You must blend in wherever you are. Learn the language and the customs. Dress the way they dress. Speak as they speak. Cloak who and what you are and never trust anyone.
She liked Gerald and Terry-very much. They'd worked together for several years, but she'd been very careful never to intrude on either of them, or to show them that she was different in any way.
«Lara.»
Terry's pleading voice forced her thoughts to the task on hand. She steadied herself and gave him a reassuring nod. They were used to following her lead and it was natural to look to her now. She took another breath and let it out, pushing down the revulsion welling up.
The words to the healing chant rose out of that same bank of knowledge and she repeated them under her breath as she slid the razor-sharp knife beneath Terry's skin and found the barb.
Kunasz, nelkul sivdobbanas, nelkul fesztelen loyly. Ot elidamet andam szabadon elidadert. O jela sielam jorem ot ainamet es so?e ot elidadet. O jela sielam pukta kinn minden szelemeket belso. Pajnak o susu hanyet es o nyelv nyalamet sivadaba. Vii, o verim so?e o verid andam.
The ancient Carpathian language she'd learned as a child came easily. She might be rusty, having never used it other that to murmur it to herself before she fell asleep, but the words, spoken in a chant, were always soothing to her.
As she whispered the healing words, she blocked Terry's pain. The fang was wicked-and nasty. It curved into the skin growing wider, digging deep, and at the end, near the point, was a small barb, curving in the opposite direction. She had to slit the skin carefully to allow the points on either side to become loose enough to slide out without further damaging Terry's leg.
At first she used her human sight, blocking all other ability to see until she had the barb out. Only then did she allow herself to look with the eyes of a mage. Tiny white worms writhed and burrowed, swarming to the cells to reproduce as quickly as possible. Her stomach lurched. It took tremendous effort to shed her awareness of her own thoughts and physical self and become a blaze of healing white light pouring into Terry's wound to burn the organisms as quickly as she found them.
The wormlike creatures tried to hide from the light, and they reproduced quickly. She tried to be thorough, but Terry squirmed and moaned, distracting her, all at once reaching down to his other ankle, trying to yank the snake head free.