Ashes And Spirit (Book 3) (42 page)

Syrakynn burst through a Slide a few wing lengths away, her panicked alarm spilling over to all of the riders. Kirynn no longer responded to Syrakynn’s calls.

“Namir, try to calm her down. We cannot go back to the river yet; the shadow army will still be on the eastern bank.”

“I have already explained this. She is not pleased at the prospect of leaving Kirynn wherever she is.”

Vaddoc sighed.
“None of us are.”
Worry for her filled him but they didn’t have any choice.

A moment passed before the return came,
“Loki and Merru are willing to make a pass down the river.”

“No. Loki’s shield weakened as much as mine did. He will not be able to maintain a light- bending weave long enough to keep them safe. Either it will fail and they will be attacked, or he will kill himself.”

“
Mckale and Maleena have said the same thing,”
Namir returned.
“Miya says Serena has threatened to knock Loki upside the head if he tries it. I will not repeat the words Kellinar used in his message through Shryden. Merru has agreed that waiting is the best course of action for now.”

Vaddoc ran a hand through his sweaty hair, and it came away red. He wasn’t surprised, although he didn’t recall the blow that caused it. Namir was in even worse shape. The desire to find Kirynn warred with seeing Namir healed and rested. Leaving any of their friends behind enemy lines rankled; however, his duty to his dragon and to see the rest of them safe won out. Kirynn would agree with him.

Namir huffed a weary breath and opened another Slide. Around them the others did the same—even the frustrated Syrakynn. They came out the other side over the crowded, sweeping field west of Markene’s capitol.

Surrounded by her Galdrilene Defenders, Kalila marched through the refugees directing a large group of Markeni and able-bodied Calladaran and Shaderian hauling wood into the field. Others cleared places to start fires. Kalila gestured to the group with one arm while the other held a bundle of smaller sticks for kindling though the multitude of voices drowned out her words from this distance.

She wasn’t the only high-ranking lady willing to get her hands dirty. Arlenyi, Lord Mannoc’s widow and Raylah, Lord Arandrall’s wife, both had their hands full of blankets as they directed a crowd of servants carrying towels, clothing, and buckets of water.

Anything that could be used as a tent was being put up by a mix of Ke’han warriors and Boromari soldiers to shelter women, children, and those still recovering from injuries and healing from the coming of night.

Namir and the other dragons landed far enough away so the wind from their wings wouldn’t ruin the efforts of the tent builders. Vaddoc jerked in the saddle from the exhausted dragon’s heavy landing. Namir stood with his wings hanging at his sides as Vaddoc removed the safety straps and slid to the ground. With weary movements, he loosened the saddle and dragged it off the dragon. Too tired to do more than walk a few paces, he flopped down in the grass with the rest of the riders and used the saddle to lean against.

Mages from the Tower of Healing converged on the dragons. Once they were finished, they turned their attention to Vaddoc and the other riders.

With slow beats of their wings, the dragons took off again, flying low toward the river to bathe and drink. Vaddoc raised his eyes to take in his companions. Mckale and Maleena, both covered in ash, sat leaning against each other. Darker spots in the gray showed where they had taken wounds. Kellinar and Taela, also a shade of gray, sat nearly the same with Serena nearby. The other riders all sat or sprawled in various states of exhaustion.

Vaddoc could only imagine what he looked like. Or not. He chuckled wryly when Namir supplied an image of his dirty and bloodied form. They all desperately needed food and bathing. He turned his head and looked east. Food was a definite yes, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry much about the grime. Not with one of their own missing.

“We will find her,” Maleena said. He turned, and she offered him a sad smile. “Your thoughts were quite loud.”

Taela nodded silently.

After a brief rest, they managed to drag themselves to their feet and moved toward the refugees in search of food. Vaddoc glanced east again. A meal, maybe a few short hours of sleep for them and their dragons, and then they could begin the search for Kirynn. Hopefully the Shadow Riders weren’t searching the riverbanks for survivors or camping down next to the river.

“The dawn will bring a new day, my rider,”
Namir sent.

“It usually does.”

“With it, new possibilities come. Eat, sleep, and try not to worry too much. Kirynn is strong.”

Vaddoc sighed before returning,
“I know.”
He rubbed a hand over his face
. “You need to eat as well.”

“We will hunt now though we will not be far…”

As the dragon broke contact, Vaddoc’s sisters slammed into him. Tears of joy ran down their faces, and he returned their hugs, grateful to see them alive. Shadereen may be gone, but at least this time he had protected those he loved.

Plaintive whining cut through the darkness surrounding her. It slowly pulled her to the surface. A groan escaped Kirynn’s lips as her eyes opened. A dark blue blanket covered the sky held back in the west by only a faint brush of light. The night wind flowed over her in icy waves, though it did nothing to cool the fire in her side or the pain in her leg that throbbed in time with her aching head.

“Kirynn! Where are you?”
came Syrakynn’s sending.

“I have no idea. Somewhere on the west riverbank. There’s some bushes and trees. How did the battle end?”

“We lost. I’m coming for you.”

“You’ll remain where you are until it’s safe. It hasn’t been that long. I doubt the Shadow Riders and forces have pulled that far back from the river.”

“You’re injured, and you need healing.”

“Give me a moment to assess the damage,”
Kirynn sent.

She rolled to her relatively uninjured side and slowly pushed herself up until she sat on the damp ground and waited for the trees to stop their slow spin. With shaking hands, Kirynn examined her right side for the source of pain and found a piece of broken off branch as thick as her thumb sticking a few inches out of her flesh just below her ribs. She couldn’t tell how deep it was. It would be better to leave it, less blood loss that way.

Her leg was swollen well beyond normal proportions. From the way it felt, the restriction of her clothing was cutting off the circulation. She slid her knife from its sheath at her waist. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she bent forward and cut through her boot from the top to the ankle, then slit her pant leg all the way up. A rush of stinging ran through her leg like a swarm of angry wasps adding to her misery.

Lenya! Kirynn turned her head to look for the child. She sat a few paces away, her knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. Like Kirynn, she was covered in mud, her hair plastered down in a tangled, dirty mess. Several cuts had bled through the mud on her arms. Her dry eyes stared straight ahead.

A sudden fear she couldn’t define made her heart pound. “Lenya?”

The little girl didn’t move or acknowledge her.

“Lenya, are you hurt?”

Nothing. Had she been so injured she wasn’t understanding? No, other than some cuts she looked fine. The fear subsided, and Kirynn hung her head in relief. Lenya at least seemed to have escaped too much damage.

The whining began again, miserable and helpless. Kirynn squinted through blurry eyes in the direction of the sound. A few paces away at the edge of the water where the eroded bank jutted out, a mud-covered dog clung to the bank with its front paws. It whined again as it scrabbled at the steep, slippery soil. She couldn’t just sit there and watch until it lost its grip and was swept away by the river.

Groaning and panting with every movement, Kirynn crawled toward the dog, dragging her broken leg behind her while full night claimed the sky. Twice while covering the short distance, she collapsed and lay shaking for several moments until she found the strength to continue. When she finally reached the animal, only her bond-enhanced sight allowed her to see the dog clinging to the water’s edge in the shadows. No moon graced the sky and only the stars bathed the world in their dim light.

Kirynn inched toward the animal and reached down, grabbing a handful of muddy scruff. She took a few quick breaths to prepare herself. Holding the last one, she gritted her teeth and pulled hard. Ignoring the yelps of the dog she hauled it up beside her; it was the only way to save it. Agony shot through her side and body. A deeper black than the night eclipsed the edges of her vision.

A warm tongue licked her face bringing her back from the brink of unconsciousness. Kirynn buried her fingers into the wet fur and sprawled on her back, staring up through the branches with the dog cuddled against her uninjured side as she struggled to hold onto awareness. After several, eternal moments of pain, she gathered herself and slowly dragged her way back to Lenya with the dog inching along next to her.

Kirynn watched the child wondering what she should be doing to help her. Her mind grew hazy, and she closed her eyes. Warmth pressed up against her uninjured side as the dog curled up close. The mental dusk came for her again. It reached through the pain and Syrakynn’s constant sendings, and dragged her under.

T
he sun hung well above the horizon, its bright light illuminating the burned and bloodied battlefield with far more clarity than Vaddoc wanted as Namir flew low and slow over the Blood River. Though still swollen, its receding waters left behind a devastated landscape wiped clean of everything except a slick of mud mixed with ash and debris. In the distance the faint forms of Shryden, Tellnox, and Merru, searching their lengths of riverbanks, were barely visible.

At least the shadow army appeared to have pulled back to the ruin that used to be the city of Marden. Loki and Merru, hidden in their light-bending weave, had scouted the area before the rest of them joined in the search.

Kirynn’s description of where she was hadn’t been much help. Numerous trees clung to the riverbanks and they’d been unable to reach her again despite Syrakynn’s efforts. Vaddoc watched the west side of the bank carefully for any sign, trying to ignore the stench of the battlefield and the reek of bloated animal carcasses that had washed down in the flood and then left behind by the receding water. The rising heat of the day only compounded the odors.