EPIC: Fourteen Books of Fantasy (389 page)

I had no idea how to feed the rest of the animals. I started to tear the sleeve of the padding of my armour, but one of the guards said something, motioning for me to stop. They were laughing; I was doing something tragically wrong.

Then one of the guards’ laugh was cut off, and he slumped forward onto the stone.

Khavi yanked his spear out of the dead man’s back, thrusting it up into the second guard’s throat and up into his brain. His arms jerked and spasmed, then he fell off the weapon and collapsed in a limp heap.

“Come on!” hissed Khavi. “We’re getting out of here!”

I stared at the dead men, horrified. They were beginning to trust me. They had even shown me kindness of a sort, although I didn’t understand what they tried to do. They had relaxed their watch, loosened my bonds, brought me things. For their kindness Khavi had killed them.

“Why did you do that?”

“Keep your damn voice down!” Khavi hissed, stepping over the corpse of the first guard. “Come, the way is clear, but it won’t be long before the other bodies are spotted.”

“Other bodies?” I felt the blood drain away from my scales. “Khavi, what did you do?”

“What do you mean?” he asked. “I’m getting you out of here. We have to be quick; I was spotted on the way. It was that damn short one.”

“Short one? Khavi, that…that was a child!” I stepped forward, grabbing the front of his armour and shaking him. “What did you do to him?”

He stared at me as though I was mad. “What do you think? He was calling for help.”

I felt sick. The hay I had eaten was trampling my insides. “You killed a child?”

“They killed ours,” Khavi said. “They killed
mine
. Or have you forgotten already?”

Ferokhan had not been our enemy. Just a curious child who hadn’t run away when I’d appeared. These humans had nothing to do with Pewdt. I wanted to choke the life out of Khavi, but something large and bulky was pressed into my claw. A bundle of things.

“I got your stuff,” said Khavi, “and your shield.”

I unwrapped the package. It was all here. I slipped my right arm into my shield, tightening the strap, then tied my rapier’s sheath to my belt. My haversack was returned to my back. I noticed the Feyeater on his belt. “And how many people did you kill to get them?” I asked, rhetorically.

His reluctance to answer caused another surge of anger within me.

“The guard was armed!” Khavi protested. “What was I to do? Just ask him politely?”

I ground my teeth together to prevent myself saying something that would turn him against me. “The deed’s done,” I said. “Nothing can be done about it now.”

“How was I to know they weren’t to be killed?”

“Is that your default position whenever presented with a problem? Just murder your way through it?”

“No mercy for monsters,” said Khavi. “Yeznen said that.”

I crouched beside the first of the guards, rolling him onto his back with a groan. His eyes were open, an expression of shock and pain on his face. I gently closed his eyes.

“These ones weren’t monsters.”

“Fine,” said Khavi, “but they’re dead. What are we going to do now? How are we going to get out of here?”

I looked to the end of the barn where the horse, goats, and sheep were.

By the time we were ready to go, the barn had been surrounded by the humans. They shouted demands in their tongue, Melicandra not amongst them. Nor was her eidolon.

I risked a peek out of the double doors that led to the barn. Over two dozen guards stood at the ready, half with crossbows and half with sword and spear.

I closed the door before they could see me. I relayed the information to Khavi. “They have so many males,” I said, mulling the idea over in my head. “They are
all
male. Why would they send precious males in the front?”

Khavi’s didn’t know either. “That’s really strange. I wonder how they reproduce?”

“Maybe they don’t let their females fight.”

Khavi frowned in confusion. “Why not?”

I shrugged helplessly, returning my attention to the door. I risked another quick peek, judging the distance between the door and the humans. We had one shot at this. We succeeded, or we died.

I’d learnt all I could. We backed up, then I yanked on the hair at the back of my goat’s neck. It bleated and bucked, then started running forward, straight towards the door. Khavi’s grip around my midsection tightened. I held on to the goat with one claw and began to cast.
 

The buck smashed into the doors with its horns, throwing them wide open. My spell went off. I had timed the magic perfectly. A roaring wall of flame leapt from my clawtips, stopping just short of the guards. They raised their arms to shield their faces, crying out, and I turned the goat’s head towards the south.

“Come on!” shouted Khavi. “Can’t this thing go any faster? Just hit it! Make it feel pain!”

I didn’t hit the goat. Instead, it seemed to instinctively do what I wanted it to, galloping down the brightly lit streets, carrying us easily. The guards behind us began to recover; a crossbow bolt whizzed past my head, and several others clinked off the dirt or thumped into the walls of nearby houses.

I turned the goat between two houses. It balked at the tight passage, and I had to tug on its hair; it hesitated then bolted in.

Thick strands of fibre, like those in Six-Legs’s lair, were strung between the buildings here, with shirts and other garments stretched over them. The resemblance between them and the corpses we had seen was uncanny; I hesitated for a moment before I overcame my fear and urged the goat forward.

We ploughed through, snapping several of the lines. I was snagged on one, the force nearly tearing me from the goat’s back, but my grip held firm. Khavi held on to my waist, keeping steady.

We came out the other side covered in clothing. The goat stopped and began to consume some of it. I kicked at the goat’s sides, trying to get it to move.

A human woman shrieked. She had a bundle of garments in her arms and was in the process of adding them to the string.

“Kill it quickly!” shouted Khavi.

“No!” I yanked the goat’s hair around, pulling his head back to the south. “We’re not killing any more humans!”

“Bah!”

The woman pulled out a knife as long as my rapier. She slashed at Khavi inexpertly.

I kicked the goat’s side, and he began to move before Khavi could counterattack. Shouts came from the gap between houses, and one more crossbow quarrel shot out. I didn’t see where it landed.

The goat ran and ran. Soon we passed the outskirts of the village, Khavi holding onto my waist as I guided the goat as best I could. We passed a number of trees, heading south and away from the village, and it was only then that I started to feel safe. Our goat was fast. It had carried us way faster than we could manage ourselves.

I stopped the goat and went to hop off, but I stopped. With the air no longer blowing in my hair I could smell blood.

“Khavi?”

I twisted around to look at him. He was still holding tight to me, but I could see his face was scrunched up in pain. A crossbow quarrel was stuck into his back.

“Shit of the dead Gods!”

I tried to hop off the goat but fell. The mold, the thing Melicandra had called grass, cushioned my fall. I scrambled up to my feet, darting behind the goat to see better.

The quarrel had punctured through the humanskin leather, through his scales and into his flesh. I touched the shaft gingerly. It was firmly lodged in.

“Dammit, Khavi.”

“Sorry,” he said between his teeth.

“It’s nobody’s fault. If you weren’t sitting there it would have hit me instead.” I grimaced. “No idea how we’re going to get that thing out.”

“Is it—nng—deep enough to push through?”

I shook my head. “Can’t say. I’m not familiar with these bolts. It looks like your armour took most of the impact though. It’s in maybe an inch?”

“So pull it out then.”

“I can try and cut around it, see if that will help. It will hurt though.”

“Pain is good,” he said with a sarcastic grin. “It reminds you you’re still alive.”

I helped Khavi off the goat, which began eating the grass underneath it. “I thought you said that saying was stupid.”

“Maybe I’m getting used to it.”

“Okay,” I said, “lay down on your chest. I’ll do my best to make this as easy as possible, but it’s going to hurt.”

“I know.” Khavi slowly eased himself down onto his chest. Every movement clearly caused him pain.

I did not know how to best treat this kind of wound. I reached out for the shaft of the arrow. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” he said, gripping the grass. “No. Wait.”

“What?”

“Can you gag me? We don’t know if they’re after us.”

I didn’t know if that was his real reason, but we didn’t have anything. I wandered over to one of the trees, where the goat was nibbling on the tree-skin. A piece of the tree had fallen down on the ground. I snapped a suitable length off, testing its strength. It would do.

“Here,” I said, holding it out in front of his snout, “bite down on this.”

He did so, gripping the grass tightly with his claws. I took hold of the shaft of the quarrel and gave it a sharp tug.

Khavi yelped in pain, the sound muffled by the tree limb in his maw. I pulled again and again, each time eliciting a cry of agony from him, his body jerking involuntarily.

“I’m sorry,” I said, over and over. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

I rocked the shaft back and forth, digging and tearing. Finally it came free in a bloody spray. The bolt was tipped with wicked barbs. I tossed the evil thing away.

Khavi wept, mumbling incomprehensible things between muffled groans. He’d almost bitten completely through the tree limb but we weren’t done yet.

I unclipped the straps of his armour, removing the blood-soaked leather jerkin. I removed the padding underneath too, laying it all to the side. Then I drew the Feyeater from Khavi’s belt, holding it out. I positioned my right hand before it and formed the arcane symbol I needed to cast.

Khavi cried, and I cried too, because I knew this would be the worst of the pain.

I cast again and again, each time waves of flame leapt from my clawtips and enveloped the blade. I poured more and more fire onto it until it was red hot with an inner light.
 

“Are you ready?”

He mumbled something in the affirmative. I pressed the weapon down against his exposed wound, steam rising from the blood it boiled.

Khavi’s sharp teeth bit through the tree limb, and he shrieked over and over again, but I kept the metal pressed to his wound until the steam didn’t come anymore.

Time passed and Khavi writhed in agony. I had no way of stopping his pain. He tore up clumps of the grass, trying his best to keep his maw shut and let only muffled grunts escape.

I’d never been wounded like that. Bumps, scrapes, bruises—some light sword wounds. Even the cuts from Pewdt’s dagger had healed, more or less, with fresh scales growing.

No scales would grow over Khavi’s wound, though. It was far too deep and wide for that, the edges of his flesh torn and ripped, then seared with a burn. He would carry the scar for the rest of his life.

“How is it now?”

“Agonising.”

I rubbed the back of his head. “I’m really, really sorry.”

“You did what you had to do. You saved my life. I would have done the same to you.”

“You were only shot because I was captured. You saved me first.”

“It was my—nng—duty.”

The words stung. “Was that all it was?”

“My duty, and…other things.”

“Other things.” I looked at his wound, as I had constantly since I had sealed it. “It looks better. It’s not bleeding as much anymore. Do you want more water?”

“If you feed me any more water, I might burst.”

“You do need to keep your fluids up. That’s important when you’re losing blood.”

“I remember the lessons,” he said. “Can I look at it now?”

“It’s probably best not to see.”

He arched his back, and his body tensed. Another wave of pain. I held his head, and it soon settled.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Just try to pass the time.”

“Right. I’m trying.” His tail thumped against the ground. “It hurts like the hells. Burning, deep, you know? Like having your scales pulled off one by one.”

“That’s understandable.” I had to tell the truth. “The wound is deeper than I thought. I should have pushed it through.”

“Will I die?”

I scrunched up my face. “I wish I could say definitely not, and it’s unlikely, but…” I tried to lie, but the truth stumbled out. “Maybe.”

He seemed to accept that, his tail coming to a rest. “If I do, what will you do with my body?”

“Bury it. Like we did to Faala and Jedra. To Oreala.”

“On the surface?”

I smiled, reaching up to wipe away a tear. “Hey, what’s wrong with the surface?”

“I don’t like it here. I’d rather be buried underground.”

“Let’s pull that tail when we come to it, shall we? You’re not dead yet.”

“I know.” He grunted in pain, tearing up more of the grass. “I’m not going to let some human get the better of me.”

I gave him a pat on the back of his head. “That’s the spirit.” I tried to think of more things to distract him from the pain and thoughts of death. “What should we call the goat? It seems to like us.”

His answer for a time was laboured breathing. “It needs a name?”

“I think it should have one. It saved our hides from the humans.”

“It’s just an animal.”

“I know, but it’s pretty smart. Cute, in a really strange way.”

“It likes eating.”

“Well,” I said, “maybe that’s a good enough name for it then. Let’s call it Hungry.”

“I don’t see why we don’t just call it Goat.”

“Would you like just being called Kobold?”

“Your name means
nothing
. I wouldn’t point claws at simplistic names.”

I found it hard to argue with that point. “Granted, but I didn’t get to choose my name.”

He didn’t answer. “You okay?” I asked.

“I’m probably going to die.”