The dragon rider whipped her lance sideways, but the bear was already too close. She hauled on the reins to gain altitude, but a paw as big as a bushel basket studded with knives slashed the air. The paw crumpled a dragon wing and capsized the mount. With a squawk, the rider was dumped to crash on her neck and shoulder. The bear threw its weight into its front paws and thumped down on her like a dog on a squirrel. A fearful crunching of bones sounded, and a screechy raking of claws through metal. The flier flipped upside down and crunched on rock.
The rearmost flier, the bird man, had dodged past the dragon rider to blast the bear with hoarfrost. But the creature's thick coat merely turned white. The bear never slowed, and the fliers had to spin away or be batted flat.
That left Sunbright and Greenwillow, cowering against the rock wall.
Blood on its claws, the great cave bear wheeled from its first victim seeking a next. The huge paws gripped the shelf preparatory to sweeping it clean. Greenwillow spread her feet, pointed her sword, and braced one hand on the wall behind her to thrust forward into the bear's face. But Sunbright slapped hard and knocked her sword point down. Harvester hung slack in his own left hand. The elf shot him a quizzical demand, but the shaman-to-be ignored her.
Friend! he thought at the rearing beast, whose head was as big as his torso. Friend! Do not kill!
There was no reaction, it seemed. The bear opened its great mouth to latch on to their arms or legs, or to crush their ribs. Sunbright saw long strings of saliva connect teeth like knives of white flint. Beside him, Greenwillow struggled to free the wrist of her sword arm from his grip.
Friend! He hammered the thought at the bear. What could make it understand? We mean you no harm!
A gurgle sounded deep inside the beast, and it seemed as if they could see all the way to its stomach. Greenwillow gasped, but the gaping maw snapped shut. The bear cocked one eye at Sunbright, puzzled. Something tickled in the barbarian's mind, a buzz like a bee's trapped in his head. Was it the bear's thought? Had he, in a blind panic, managed to somehow communicate with an animal? He tried to snatch the buzzing and pin it down. We are friends. We will go now. You go, too.
More puzzled looks came from the round black eyes under the coarse fur. The huge black nose snuffled, seemingly tasting their scent. The barbarian and elf held their breath. Would they be considered game, or…? Abruptly, the bear wheeled, saw the dead, punctured, and frost-blasted bodyguards, and with awesome paws swept the bodies from the ledge to drag to its cave below.
By then the barbarian and elf were gone.
"What was that?" Greenwillow skipped as nimbly as a goat down the slope, in bounds longer than Sunbright could make.
Headlong, the barbarian jumped from rock to rock, any second expecting a magic blast, an icy lance through his spine, or a broken ankle from slipping on the loose scree. "Just… lucky! The gods favor… humans today, and not… the Neth!" No need to tell his secret, animal-speaking, if that's what he'd done. Someday he might be a shaman after all, and the thought made his spirit and feet fly. "Huh!"
He yelped as Dorlas popped up like a fat rabbit. The dwarf aimed his crossbow and fired an inch over the barbarian's shoulder. A clank answered; then all three were sheltered in the coolness of an oak forest.
Hands shaking, Sunbright wiped his brow. That was his first close-hand bout of animal-speaking, and it had rattled him worse than the buzzing dragon riders. Too much too soon, he reflected, and he'd be thinking like a bear and find himself naked in the woods, on his knees rolling rotted logs for grubs.
He tried to croak to his companions, but was too dry. His waterskin hung on a horse. Briefly he wondered if the merchants had gained the castle yet. Hawking phlegm, he yelled, "Which way?"
Dorlas clawed sweat out of his eyes. He'd lost his round helmet, and his short red braids flopped around his head, adorned with bright scarlet from a scalp wound. He grabbed wildly at his back quiver, found no more quarrels, and slung his crossbow back there. Straightening his pack, he rasped low, "To the city. To Dalekeva. It's the only safety. The Neth must abide by their own rules, even if we've killed members of their party."
"Why not hide in the woods until dark?"
"Because," hissed Greenwillow, "the mounts have magic to sniff-"
A sizzle erased her words. Lightning charred leaves over their head, leaving a hole through which flashed gold and gems. At another pass, fire outlined the hole, set fire to dead leaves and branches underfoot.
The three were far off by then, running flat out.
The deadly game of hide-and-seek lasted the afternoon, and threatened to haunt Sunbright's dreams for life. It was one thing to attack an enemy in the field, to clash and crash and live or die. It took another kind of courage to keep a cool head and calm stomach while hunted from tree to tree like a rabbit dodging a wolf. One of the three remaining defenders would circle a tree, glance, dive, see fire or frost or lightning strike. Then another would pop up, distract the fliers, and the first could hop up or crawl headlong.
There was at least no trouble with direction, for they descended into the valley, bounding in great leaps down shallow and steep slopes. Then the forest ended, and they lurked under the trees, soaked with sweat, gasping and rasping too badly even to curse.
Ahead lay the city, and sanctuary. But it was a mile across open country: orchards, plowed fields, and a rutting, curving road lined with stone walls. A mile to the gates.
"I don't see much for it," croaked the dwarf. "We run, is all."
Neither Greenwillow nor Sunbright commented on the dwarf's stumpy legs. The elf asked the barbarian, "Can you run?"
"My other name is Steelshanks. Fastest runner in my tribe. You?"
A snot- and blood-bubbly sniff answered. "Together, or spread out?"
"Together," replied the males.
"Singly, we'll be picked off. Together, we can at least slash back," added Dorlas.
"Wait-or go now?"
The tree they stood under exploded into flame. All three ran, catty-corner across a field for the road. The fields were thigh-deep in crops or else fresh-plowed for winter, too difficult to run through. The orchards offered scant cover, for the branches were thin and wiry, and too low to scoot under. So it was the hard-packed road, stone walls and ruts and all.
They struck the road and headed for the gates. Attacks came immediately. Sunbright listened, looked, and yelled, "Down!"
A flier hissed overhead; fire spilled and ignited grass by the stone barrier. The rider had overshot, but would fire sooner the next time.
On they pelted, gulping air, an eighth of a mile, a quarter. A half. Twice, they had to scatter and dive. Once Sunbright had his hair catch fire and Greenwillow beat it out. Once she screamed as lightning scorched her sheathed sword and stung her hip.
Then, as they'd expected all along, Dorlas, lagging behind, suffered. The dwarf had finally thrown off his pack, and there was no blast of warning this time.
The two in front heard a keen of rising air, then a shrill hunting cry, and a grunt. Whirling, they saw Dorlas had turned to face his enemy-and his death.
The lance had punctured his guts on the left side.
The bloody point, bowed by his weight, pointed almost straight down. Above, the male bird rider strained to withdraw the point, or lift the dwarf. But the dying Dorlas was too heavy to lift, and he had a death grip on the shaft of the lance piercing him. The female dragon rider, seeing her companion in difficulty, wheeled and swooped to strip the dwarf from the lance.
"Dorlas!" shrilled Greenwillow.
"Go!" grunted the dwarf. "Go! Do not help, unless you want my death curse upon you!"
The elf burst into tears, crying in her own language, but Sunbright grabbed her hand. "Don't waste his sacrifice!"