Left, another jaqrui, this one clashing against the blade of a stranger, sparks seething as the edges connected. Auum rolled again, coming up and stabbing straight into the groin of another. A third roll right to avoid a blade that swept into the stone floor and he was standing again. A stranger came at him, hefting a longsword. The clumsy half-paced blow was turned easily. Auum punched him in the face, his blade flickered out and sliced the man's throat, a kick sending him to the ground.
His movements fast and sure, Auum ran at the surviving crossbowman, who had loaded his weapon and was bringing it to bear. Auum leapt, his legs shooting out straight, catching his target in the chest. He felt ribs crack beneath the force of the blow and the man grunted his pain. Auum landed and rolled again, spinning around as he stopped to plunge his sword through the man's heart and finish his cries for help.
He stood, able to take in the whole scene from his position by the wall of the temple. Ten were down. Duele and Evunn fought side by side, swords a blur, the clashing of metal echoing sharply in the enclosed space. Blood slicked the floor. Two men were coming at him, one with an injured shoulder. Both were wary. It would be their undoing.
Stepping back, Auum snapped out another jaqrui, this one whipping into the injured man's sword arm just above the wrist. He dropped his blade, turned and ran for the door. The other came on. Auum rushed him, dropping at the last moment to sweep his legs from under him. The man crashed to the ground, sword swiping uselessly at thin air. On top of him in an instant, Auum's punch crushed his windpipe.
The Tai leader tore from the temple after the fleeing stranger, eating up the ground between them. Jaqrui in hand, he cocked his arm but did not throw. Ahead of him, the man screamed, slithered to a stop at the edge of the apron and started to scrabble backwards. From the shadows padded a panther, its eyes locked on him. And behind the beautiful animal came an elf, dressed in jet black, face painted in halves of black and white. Elf and panther were one. A pairing of the ClawBound, their minds interlinked, their consciousnesses irrevocably combined.
Auum nodded at them and turned back to the temple. The stranger had nowhere to run.
Inside, all the enemy were dead. Evunn had sustained a slight cut to his shoulder and Duele one on his thigh. It was nothing. The forest would provide healing and Yniss would keep them safe for what they had done.
Auum strode up to his Tai. 'We will scour this temple of their blood and present their bones to Tual. We will rest. But first we will pray.'
The Tai turned to kneel before the statue of Yniss and stopped. As if dragged against his will, Auum walked forward, stepping over the body of a stranger. He crouched by the pool and cried out. A fury rose within him that he had no desire to contain. His heart sounded doom in his chest, his face burned and his muscles tensed. His body shook. But he could not drag his eyes from the stump of the statue's arm. He saw it as if through a haze, his mind unable to fully comprehend the enormity of what was before his eyes.
Duele dived into the pool and swam down, surfacing when he had finished his search of the bottom and heaving himself back out of the water. His face was streaked where his paint had run, his eyes were narrowed and he seemed to struggle to get his words out.
'The hand is there.'
'Then the statue can be remade,' said Auum. But his relief was short-lived.
'Part of the thumb is missing. It is not in the pool.'
Auum sat back on his haunches, staring at the ruined stream that fell uselessly into the pool from the smashed pipe under Yniss's wrist. The flow was wrong.
'Then we will find it,' he said. 'Search the temple. Search the bodies, search everywhere.'
Outside, a low growl was followed by a scream, cut off abruptly.
'The ClawBound will help,' said Auum.
'And if we can't find it?' asked Duele.
'Then we will take one of the strangers alive. And he will be but the first to pay for what they have done here.'
Auum pushed himself to his feet. The Al-Arynaar would soon arrive. And more TaiGethen cells. Much could be done to cleanse the temple and raise the hand from its resting place but the statue would not be complete until the thumb was returned. And until then, Yniss would forsake them.
Auum felt a chill dread creep over his body. He knew the writings. He knew the consequences. A tear ran down his cheek.
Chapter 18
Captain Yron had been frozen in terror, suddenly sure he'd never truly experienced the emotion before. Originally, he'd planned to make their escape once the temple was attacked, but the attack had been so swift and sure he'd kept Ben-Foran hidden by the scattered bones of the elves. At the same time, he'd heard a big cat advancing along the path.
He could just about see it in the shadows. The panther was fifty yards from him and directly behind it stood an elf whose face was painted half white. It was the only part of him Yron could see. They had moved towards the apron; there had been a commotion, a scream and the panther had pounced. Yron had closed his eyes, hearing his man's cries cut off, and had prayed that he and Ben would be spared such a fate.
Now, with all four elves and the panther in the temple, or at least very near it, he signalled to Ben and they moved. Rising to their feet, the squawking of birds masking at least some of their noise, he took the most careful pace of his life, his foot coming down soundlessly. He indicated that Ben should step directly into his prints and moved off, all the time waiting for the whisper or wail of one of their throwing crescents or the thud of a bowstring.
With agonising slowness, he reached the path his trailblazers had hacked through the forest and started down it, still staring at the ground immediately in front of him, hardly daring to breathe. He could feel the sweat pouring down his back and face, he saw it drip onto the ground beneath his chin. Over and over, he told himself to keep calm, to resist the desire to run. They had to get out of earshot before they did and he had no real idea how far that might be.
Pausing and looking back over his shoulder, he saw Ben-Foran's drawn and pale face. It too was slick with sweat and the young soldier reflexively clasped and unclasped his hand around the pommel of his sword. Yron raised his eyebrows, Ben replying with a nod. They walked on.
Just a little further, he told himself, just a little further.
The path was alive; countless ants scurried to and fro. He was careful to step over them as well as he could. Tiny though they were individually, they packed painful bites and he didn't need them up his legs and in his boots. It was impossible to find silent footing now. The debris of the crude path lay on the ground and cracked beneath his feet, the reports like thunder in his ears.
He stopped again and looked up. The light was going fast. He couldn't see the sky but knew cloud must be boiling up from the south. He let Ben-Foran catch up and whispered, 'When you feel the first raindrop, run. Run as fast as you can for as long as you can. Don't stop until you think you're going to die.'
'Where are we going?'
'Towards the camp, then east to the river, any river. We've got to throw them off the scent or we'll be dead before nightfall.'
Thunder rolled in the distance. The humidity climbed. Yron was soaked beneath his clothes. Rain would be refreshing. It came suddenly and very heavy, thudding into the canopy and driving through. A drop landed on the ground in front, immediately joined by a thousand others. He ran.