As the last tones of the bells faded, dark shapes streaked from the forest, moving fast, gliding above the snow.
"It begins," Gabriel murmured, stepping forward to meet a dark-clad opponent. Jonmarc drew his sword and stood ready, gripping the hilt two-handed. He struggled against his own mortal fear and the pounding of his heart for the awareness that would let him
track the movements of his opponents. He had the fleeting image of a slim, blond man barely out of his teens as the first vayash moru struck at him. Jonmarc wheeled, landing a solid Eastmark kick that threw his enemy backward. The black-clad man lunged again, and Jonmarc swung with his sword, connecting hard with the attacker's shoulder and opening a gash that would have felled a mortal. Jonmarc could hear laughter as the man swung his own sword, a pounding blow that made Jonmarc stagger backward as he parried. Jonmarc could not spare his attention for the fighting around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that a force at least as large as his own was engaged against them. He could hear the clang of steel and the snarls of the vyrkin. A second vayash moru joined the blond man, circling Jonmarc like a predator.
"Where's Malesh?" Jonmarc shouted. "This was his challenge. I came. Didn't he have the balls to finish what he started?"
"Malesh will come in his own time," the blond man said with a cold smile. There was a blur of motion. Jonmarc let his intuition guide him and reacted more by feel than by sight. He swung hard; his blade connected again. At the edge of his sight, he saw the second vayash moru move.
Jonmarc lashed out with his sword and wheeled into a high Eastmark kick. His blade sank deep into the blond man's chest, spilling dark ichor across the snow. The vayash moru stepped back, sliding along the blade, and began to tremble. Jonmarc lunged, twisting the sword, and the vayash moru arched and screamed. The second man attacked faster than Jonmarc could turn, and he felt the vayash moru's sword slice painfully into his forearm. Before Jonmarc could swing again, there was a rush of air and a large, gray form sprang from the shadows. A huge wolf tackled the vayash moru, teeth bared, knocking him backward. Behind them in the snow, the body of the first vayash moru, stabbed through the heart, crumbled into dust.
The vayash moru slammed the pommel of its sword against the vyrkin's skull as the wolf lunged for its throat. Jonmarc heard the snick of sharp teeth as the vayash moru grabbed at the scruff of the wolf's neck. There was madness in the vyrkin's violet eyes as the animal snarled and twisted, pawing at the air for the chance to sink its teeth into its opponent. The vayash moru ripped the animal free, throwing it hard against the trunk of a tree and tearing a deep gash through the vyrkin's shoulder.
Jonmarc swung hard, striking for the neck, but the vayash moru moved faster, with a kick that knocked Jonmarc's feet out from under him. The vayash moru pinned him, bending
Jonmarc's sword arm back painfully and pressing against his rib cage with the heel of his free hand until there was the snap of a rib breaking and Jonmarc twisted in pain. "Malesh said we couldn't kill you," the vayash moru said, and Jonmarc could see amusement in his opponent's icy blue eyes. "But he didn't say we couldn't have some fun." The vayash moru brought his knee down, hard, on Jonmarc's thigh.
Jonmarc stifled a cry and let the knife in his left arm sheath fall into his hand. He slammed the blade into his attacker's back, sliding it through his ribs and deep into the heart. The vayash moru jerked upward, his blue eyes widening, as ichor oozed from the edge of his mouth. In one fluid move, Jonmarc flipped him backward, ignoring his own pain to straddle the vayash moru and bring his sword down and through its neck. The head rolled clear in the snow, spurting dark liquid that smelled like old blood. Jonmarc scrambled clear as the body began to disintegrate.
"Behind you!" Gabriel's voice cut through the darkness and Jonmarc staggered to his feet just in time to parry a broadsword's stroke that nearly tore his sword from his grip. His attacker was a woman whose dark hair was caught back in a tight braid. Her eyes glinted with hatred. In the shadows, the wounded vyrkin whimpered, but did not rise. Jonmarc crouched, knife in one hand, sword ready in the other. He did not wait for her attack. With a cry, he charged toward her, bringing his sword down with all his strength as he let his dagger fly. The dagger caught her in the chest as the sword cleaved her from shoulder to hip. Jonmarc snatched his blade free and swung again, slicing clean through her neck. He stopped only long enough to retrieve his knife, rising in a defensive stance. He felt air move behind him too late to turn. Strong hands seized him from behind by the upper arms, immobilizing him. The strain on his broken ribs made Jonmarc gasp in pain. A dark-haired vayash moru with the coloring of a Trevath native advanced on him with a cold smile. The man landed a hard punch below Jonmarc's ribcage that made Jonmarc double over, and then struck him hard enough across the face that Jonmarc's vision swam and he almost blacked out.
"Hail, Lord of Dark Haven," the Trev mocked. Blood flecked Jonmarc's split lip. "Malesh send you to do his dirty work?" Jonmarc growled, lifting his head defiantly. The Trev swung again with a blow that made Jonmarc's ears ring.
"The rest we kill. You-he wants alive. For now." The Trev stood back, readying for another punch.
Jonmarc bucked backward, counting on his captor behind him to remain solid. He lashed
out with his feet, sliding the blade in his boot out and kicking for the Trev's chest. His foot connected hard and the Trev registered a look of shock as a black stain began to spread across his chest from the blade sunk deep in his heart.
There was a howl and a snarl, and Jonmarc felt an impact as the man pinning his arms behind him staggered, loosening his grip enough for Jonmarc to twist out of his hold. The vyrkin took the vayash moru to the ground, sinking its teeth into his neck and closing its powerful jaws. Beneath the vyrkin, the vayash moru twisted and bucked, trying to wrest free. There was a crunch as the vyrkin's teeth snapped bone and crushed sinew. "Get back!" Jonmarc cried, readying his sword. The vyrkin sprang free and Jonmarc's sword whistled through the air, severing the vayash moru's head. An acrid smell filled the air as the body crumbled.
Jonmarc looked around him, sword raised and ready. The snow was littered with dark patches of dust. In the moonlight, it was difficult to tell his vayash moru allies from their attackers, but Jonmarc thought the majority of his fighters were still moving. A shrill keen split the night air, and as one, the attacking vayash moru took flight. Gabriel and the others gave chase, but only as far as the forest's edge.
A whimper close at hand focused Jonmarc's attention. A large male wolf was seated next to a crumpled form near a tree. Jonmarc scanned the horizon once more for danger, and, sword still ready, walked over to where the wolf sat. A second wolf lay in a pool of blood in the snow beneath the tree. The wounded wolf twitched and moaned, then gasped and fell silent, its breath shallow and fast. From the angle of its body, Jonmarc guessed its spine was broken from the force of hitting the tree.
The male wolf nuzzled the fallen one and raised his head to howl. The wolf on the ground relaxed and shuddered one more time. As Jonmarc watched, the body began to shimmer as if the air around it were bending and folding in on itself. The blood-covered body of a woman lay still in the snow. Jonmarc knelt next to Eiria and covered her with his cloak. One by one, he heard the rest of the vyrkin pad up near them until a circle of twelve wolves ringed him. The large male wolf, which Jonmarc knew was Yestin, howled again, and the pack responded. Chilling as a wolf's howl was, never had Jonmarc heard the depth of pain that filled this cry. Jonmarc heard a light crunch in the snow behind him and turned to see Gabriel and Laisren.