Talon: The Windwalker Archive (Book 1) (20 page)

Is all of Val’Kharae against him? Surely the gods see his future; surely they see his stars.

—G
retzen Spiritbone, 4980

Talon and Jahsin returned to th
eir hut shortly after. Bjorn had secured their keipr along with the others out of water. He didn’t assure them it would be in one piece when they returned; that, he said, was up to Thodin.

They prepared for the night of dying as best they could. Jahsin sharpened his
stolen axe meticulously and with the care one would give to a baby. He said he wouldn’t hesitate to use the weapon, and Talon didn’t doubt him. The fire of vengeance in his eyes burned brighter with every passing day. Talon covered himself in blubber grease so he would be harder to catch hold of. He hid the long dagger Jahsin got him under his belt. The fireworks Jahsin insisted upon were put in a sack under dry cloth. Talon thought it ridiculous, but he went along. The fireworks wouldn’t slow him down, so he saw no point in arguing. He clutched the ring to his chest and hoped to the gods they all survived.

Shortly after midday they went to
Majhree’s to say good-bye. They found her hunched over a young Skomm man who had been badly beaten. She turned slowly when she heard them coming, as if she didn’t want to acknowledge that the moment had come. Talon offered his hand and she rose from her chair beside the bed.

“
Thank you, Talon; come,” she said quietly.

They followed
Majhree to a quiet corner and she turned suddenly and hugged them both. Her sobs came in quick gasps as she fought them back. She released them and kissed each of their foreheads in turn.

“
My brave, brave lads,” she sniffled. “Has the day come so soon?”

“
Are you sure you won’t come?” Talon asked.

“
Don’t be silly; my place is here, and I am too old. Such wild adventures are for the young.”

“
I’ll come back for you,” Jahsin said, hugging her again. “I’ll come back for all of you.”

“
You crazy enough to try, ain’t you?” she laughed through her sniffles. She looked as though there were a thousand things she wanted to say.

“
Thank you, Majhree, for everything you’ve done for me,” said Talon.

“
You boys take care of each other, and my dear Akkeri.”

“
We will,” they said.

The hours waiting for sundown dragged. Talon went over the route to the mines again and again in his head. Jahsin continued single-mindedly sharpening his axe and talking to it in a low voice. He promised his weapon glory and blood. Talon had seen his one-armed friend wield the axe many times. He may have been missing half an arm, but the other arm was thick and muscular. He could cut wood with the best of them.

The vision of the stacked bodies flashed across Talon’s eyes lik
e lightning and he felt sick. Through the small window, twilight proved hard to determine; in the gloom it would be hard to tell when night actually began. Again the memories of the slaughter he had survived flashed before his eyes and Talon shuddered.

We are all going to die.

“Jahsin?”

“
Yeah?”

“
Thank you; thanks for being my friend. I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight, but I want you to know you’ve been the best friend I could have hoped for.”

Jahsin
gave him a brotherly hug.

“
We’re gonna make it, Tal; you wait and see.”

The screams began sooner than Talon thought they would. The gloom out the window had not changed from its dreary shade of gray, but the wind and the rain died down enough for the sound to carry. Again the screams came and they shot to their feet together.

“
You ready for this, Tal?”

“
No, are you?”

“
No…let’s go.”

They peered out the door and cautiously went out into the light rain. The screams had come from the west. Many of the villagers
had made for the forests and fields hours, even days before. Others remained in the village and took their chances running with the bigger crowds. Still others took the chance to attack the Vald and try to claim a head. Few of the Skomm did so, but Talon was heartened to know that some did.

Fylkin came walking through the mist of the light rain
, carrying a seven-foot longsword. Villagers scattered before him and peeked meekly around corners in his wake. The sword shone red, the blood of his first victims still dripping from the end. His headdress was adorned with many bones; a timber wolf skull sat at the center. He was naked but for a thin loincloth, his skin had been painted red and black, and his eyes seemed to glow against the dark paint covering his face. Muscles rippled and bulged with his every movement; he looked like a god come to life. Talon only recognized him for his gait and the timber wolf skull upon his head.

“
Plagueborn!” he yelled when he spotted him. He let out a howl and charged.

Talon and Jahsin turned and ran.

“I’ll meet you at the docks!” Jahsin said as they ran. Talon nodded to his friend and they shared a hopeful smile.

Jahsin veered off to the right to
circle back behind Fylkin. Talon looked over his shoulder as he weaved through the huts. Fylkin was gaining. He didn’t look like a man who had been poisoned. Talon feared that Akkeri had been found out somehow. He ran behind a pair of huts and snuck a look back once again. Fylkin was still gaining. Something slammed into Talon and he went down in the mud. He glanced back to see the man who had run into him. Talon scrambled to his feet as the man began cussing him out for his stupidity. Fylkin’s sword slammed through the man’s chest, taking his words. Fylkin lifted him high and flung him to the side.

“
I’m going to feed your heart to the wolf,” said Fylkin, stalking him.

Talon ran for his life.

When he dared glance back again, Fylkin wasn’t there. He whirled around but he didn’t find him ahead either. Talon ran to the west, past four huts, and spotted the big man standing in the rain less than fifty feet away. He had been waiting for Talon to see him. Fylkin sneered and stalked off in the other direction. In his left hand he held a severed head.

Talon followed
cautiously; Fylkin kept looking back to make sure he was being followed.

What’
s he doing?
Talon wondered.
It must be a trap. He wants me to follow him. Where is he going?

T
he truth hit him like a Vald fist: Majhree!

As if reading his mind
, Fylkin turned back and laughed before charging off in the direction of the house of healing. The chiefson knew she would be there with the villagers too injured to be moved. She had survived many Freistas because of her dealings with the Vaka, but Fylkin cared not for such closed-door deals. He wanted Talon to suffer.

A
s he ran after the giant Vald, the strangeness of the act was not lost on him. Fylkin rounded the bend in the road leading to the house of healing and charged for the door like a bull.

“
No!” Talon screamed as he pumped his legs in pursuit.

The do
or crashed in under Fylkin’s weight and he disappeared inside. Screams and cries echoed from the house as Talon blindly ran through the door. He skidded to a stop inside the threshold; Fylkin held Mahjree on the tips of her toes by the hair.

“
Leave her alone!” he screamed. He tore the ring from the red ribbon and slid it on his finger.

A
blinding flash of light lit the dreary room and Talon thought for a moment that lightning had crashed through the window. The room was illuminated by a soft blue glow which sparkled in the giant chiefson’s eyes. He dropped Majhree and peered at Talon entranced. Talon realized that the blue glow was coming from the elven ring on his right hand. He stared down at it in amazement. The gem on the ring hummed low and sent light dancing on the walls. A surge of energy coursed through him and Azzeal’s words echoed in his mind. “Kyrr will give you the strength of your enemies.”

Fylkin charged across the room, his eyes alight with
wonder. Talon ran out of the doorway and into the night. Lightning flashed and the sky broke as he turned and sprinted toward the mines. Fylkin growled and charged through the village like a bull, tipping carts and scattering abandoned cookfires. His eyes no longer focused on Talon, but rather on the glowing ring upon his finger.

The v
illage began to thin as Talon came to the outskirts. The rain poured as hard as ever, and the wind howled like a ghost seeking his murderer. Dozens of Skomm cut across in front of Talon. He came around a long hut and saw what they ran from. A giant Vald with a bear skull on his head hacked to death any Skomm he could get his hands on. Lightning flashed and his huge, axe fell with the rolling of thunder. Talon scrambled through the frantic crowd and headed south once more. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Fylkin slam into a fleeing Skomm, sending him crashing into the back of a wagon.

Talon felt the strength of the ring coursing through him. His lungs took in big gulps of wet air and his legs pumped with a power he had never known. The huts sped by in
a blur, and soon he was out of the village. He hit the road to the mine and dug in on the straightaway. On the open ground he felt as though he were flying. The wind pushed at his back, adding to his speed, and he was hard pressed to keep his feet under him. He didn’t have to look behind him to know Fylkin was following closely, he could hear his heavy footfalls and the growling of his voice.

L
ightning flashed again, illuminating the tree line ahead. Soon the road would lead them into the forest, and not far beyond waited the first of the trip lines. Over his shoulder he felt Fylkin gaining. He feared that any minute the longsword would cut across the back of his legs and seal his doom. The rain began to pour so hard that he could hardly see. Fylkin staggered behind him suddenly and nearly fell, as confusion spread across the big man’s face.

The poison
, Talon realized.

With renewed
vigor Talon pushed himself harder. Almost missing the game trail he slowed to make the turn without crashing into the woods. Talon counted his strides: one, two, three, four, and when he reached twelve, he leapt at the marking stone. He jumped over the high trip line and charged on. Behind him, Fylkin crashed through the woods, unable to make the turn as sharply as Talon. He followed the game trail and screamed in rage. Talon glanced back as the big man hit the trip line at full speed. He shot forward headfirst and crashed into the trees to the right of the trail. Talon chuckled despite the dire circumstances. His laughter was short-lived however, as Fylkin tore through the trees and brush like a wild beast, his eyes bent on murder.

Talon sprinted for the
swamp but quickly realized it was much too high. The path meandering through the murky waters was covered. Fylkin growled and came on with renewed vigor. Talon stumbled as he changed direction from the swamp back to the road and the chiefson reached for him. He rolled away from groping hands and came up running. His lungs burned and his muscles screamed, but the ring still fed him the strength he needed to keep Fylkin just out of reach.

Soon the buffalo fields opened up on both sides
, and Talon ran to his right looking for the stone marking his hiding hole. Glancing back quickly, he saw that Fylkin’s feet were less sure than before; the poison was taking hold. Talon hoped the worst of the effects had not yet set in. Lightning flashed, and the silhouettes of hundreds of buffalo could be seen huddled in the downpour.

He wrestled to get the sack on his back turned around as he ran. Finally he freed the paper drago
n Jahsin claimed was of elven make. He felt ridiculous running from Fylkin and toying with a paper dragon; nevertheless, he ran straight at the buffalo, held the dragon in front of him, and pulled the tail. To Talon’s surprise, the dragon shot off into the sky, scorching his hands. Fylkin’s sword rang free of its sheath and Talon began to zig and zag through the sitting buffalo. The paper dragon sailed into the air and exploded with a boom, temporarily drowning out the thunder. All at once, the buffalo shot up as the explosion illuminated the night. A giant dragon of sparkling lights and fire swooped down on the herd before fizzling in the rain.

The buffalo went berserk with fear and began to stampede to the south. T
alon dodged the scared beasts, the power of the ring adding to his speed and agility. Behind him, Fylkin came on, but the big man was clipped by passing buffalo and slowed considerably. Talon moved through the buffalo but soon saw he would be overtaken. A tight-packed herd was heading his way. He turned and began running with the herd. He hated to leave them charging at his back, but figured they would avoid him better than he could them.

Fylkin’s angry cries rang out from far behind and Talon charged on.
He paced a long-haired buffalo and leapt, grabbing at its thick coat. His feet dragged on the ground as he clung to the beast. He struggled to get a leg up and finally hooked his foot over the hump. Pulling himself up, he looked behind to see Fylkin climbing on one of the beasts as well. Talon ducked his head as the buffalo herd charged. He tugged the long hair to the west, but the buffalo had a mind of its own. Fylkin’s buffalo was slower under his weight; even now the chiefson was falling behind. Talon ducked down to avoid the lashing rain and moved his body with the beast the way he had seen Vaka do with horses.