The Binding Stone (The Dragon Below, Book 1) (11 page)

He found himself face to face with Singe. The Aundairian had been watching Adolan and Dandra as well, but with Geth's sudden movement, his eyes flickered to him. Geth stiffened. Singe did the same. For a moment, both men were silent, then Singe turned back to scan the clearing beyond the circle. "Here's a funny thing," the wizard said. He nodded toward the dolgrims and the Bonetree hunters. "If it wasn't for them, I'd be trying my best to burn you alive. But here we are. Like old times."

The growl Geth had trapped before slipped loose.

Singe paid him no attention. "What Adolan said about druid history--is it all true?"

"His tradition says it is."

"Huh." Singe stretched his arms. "I didn't think there was anyone left who still cared that much for tradition. I thought the Last War killed all of them--one way or another."

"Adolan never left the Eldeen," said Geth. "He was lucky."

He turned to face out of the circle as well, leaning against the stone that had given them shelter. The great-gauntlet on his arm, a sword on his belt, one of the Frostbrand at his side ...

Memories of a dozen battles, of hundreds of nights of guard duty, of cities and towns and fortresses, swarmed over him. The fingers of his right hand, encased in the black metal of his gauntlet, began tapping out a ringing rhythm on the stone.

Singe glanced down at the sound. Aware of what he had been doing, Geth forced his hand to be still. Old habits, he thought, came back too easily. Singe looked away again.

"That gauntlet doesn't look like it's had nine years of use," he said.

"It hasn't," Geth answered.

"I remember when you got it. A full year's Blademarks wages--with bonuses--to that artificer in Metrol. You didn't take it off for half a month. The smell was so bad Robrand was worried your arm was rotting inside."

The wizard's voice was brittle. Geth could guess what was going through his head: nine years of bitter anger channeled into resentment at being made to stand as allies.

He knew exactly how Singe felt. He closed his hand into a fist and looked out over the clearing. "The hunters have spread themselves out," he said. The words came out as tightly clenched as his fist. "They're not making themselves a target. They know we have a spellcaster."

"More likely they know we have Dandra and they want to avoid her psionics." He darted a glance down at Geth. "That's kalashtar mind-magic to you."

"Is it really? Maybe they
did
teach you everything at Wynarn," the shifter grunted back. He looked up at Singe. The wizard had stiffened. Nine years had changed the man--Geth could see it in Singe's eyes--but he still had the same sensitive points. Geth dug a little harder. "That big crystal she wears around her neck? It's called a psicrystal--it's like a familiar for psions."

"I know what a psicrystal is," snapped Singe. He stared out into what Geth knew could only be shadows to his human eyes. "How may of them are there?"

"Dolgrims?" Geth made a rough estimate of their opponents' numbers--with so many arms waving and mouths champing in the moonlight, it was difficult. Every so often, a little pack would split off to circle the clearing while others would tumble out of the woods, making an accurate count even more difficult. Still, he grimaced at the odds. "Thirty, maybe forty. Less than half that of Bonetree hunters, assuming all of them are out there and not in the trees--"

Even as he spoke, though, an eerie, fluting call floated through the night air and a ripple seemed to spread through humans and dolgrims alike. The humans rose silently, remaining where they stood, while the dolgrims shrieked and jostled themselves into a rough semblance of order. All of them turned to face the dark line of the trees. Both Geth and Singe stiffened.

"What's going on?" muttered Singe.

"I don't know." Geth raised his voice and called over his shoulder, "Ado! You'd better see this! Something is happening out there!"

Adolan and Dandra were beside them in only moments, striding swiftly from the inner circle. Dandra looked strangely fear-haunted and Adolan oddly calm. Geth wondered what had happened at the Bull Hole's heart--but only briefly.

Out in the clearing, three figures emerged from the trees. One was a lean man with tattoos that swarmed up his arms. Another was a tall woman, as big as any man in Bull Hollow, with beads the size of finger bones strung through dark blonde hair and two pale rings piercing her lower lip over her canines. Both were dressed like the other hunters and carried swords. Of the third figure, though, Geth could make out almost nothing: it was shrouded in a cloak and cowl. One of the hunters approached the trio, speaking with them. His words were soft, but Geth saw him point at the stones and glimpsed his face as it twisted into an ugly grimace. The tall woman glanced back toward the forest and nodded. The lean man's expression grew long and he bowed his head. They had found the bodies of the hunters he, Singe, and Dandra had killed, Geth guessed.

Only the cloaked figure made no expression of sorrow. Its
cowl turned not toward the trees, but toward the circle of stones. Adolan's breath hissed between his teeth.

"What is it?" asked Geth.

Adolan shook his head. His eyes were fixed on the cloaked figure.

It must have said something because the humans turned toward it. The hunter who had spoken first swept his hand through the air, palm up. The cloaked figure turned sharply and strode forward, the lean man and the tall woman in its wake. Hunters and dolgrims alike leaped aside to make way for them.

At the same point where the magic of the Bull Hole had blocked the dolgrims, the cloaked figure was stopped as well. It cursed, a horrible word that carried all the way to the stones and that Geth didn't recognize, though he understood the emotion behind it all too well. The figure turned away and spoke again in what sounded like the same language, this time addressing the dolgrims. The horrid creatures squealed with excitement and charged back toward the trees. Only the Bonetree hunters and the cloaked figure remained in the moonlight. The figure turned back to face the Bull Hole again.

"Gatekeeper!" it shouted. "Gatekeeper!" Its voice was harsh and oddly broken, as if it did not often speak. It reached up to draw back its cowl. Geth's guts tightened. Dandra gasped and Singe hissed. Adolan's hands, Geth saw, curled where they rested on the stone of the Bull Hole.

There were no eyes behind the cowl. Black pits stared out of an emaciated face. The creature's flesh was pale and hard, drawn close to its bones and muscles. Its ears flared broad from the sides of its head before narrowing to fine points. Strange, thick clumps of hair fell from its head to its shoulders and a light, shimmering fur seemed to cover its arms and a chest that was bare beneath the cloak. Long, thin tentacles that resembled nothing so much as unnatural tongues sprang from the flesh of its shoulders.

"Gatekeeper!" the creature roared again. "I know you hear me. There is only one thing we want here. Give us the kalashtar and we will leave your valley!"

Dandra shrank back in fear, but there was also relief on her
face, as if she had almost been expecting something even worse to lie behind the cowl. Geth's eyes darted from her to Adolan. "What is that thing?" he asked in disgust.

"A dolgaunt," Adolan answered. "The Bull Hole felt its presence in the valley. It's leader of the dolgrims. As foul as they are, it's even worse."

"Hruucan," said Dandra softly. Adolan glanced at her. So did Geth and Singe. Dandra looked at them without meeting their gazes. "The dolgaunt--his name is Hruucan."

Adolan's expression was guarded. "This isn't the first time you've encountered him?"

Dandra shook her head. The look in her eyes was so haunted that even Geth flinched back. Adolan blew out his breath. "Ring of Siberys."

For a moment, conflict washed across Dandra's face, then she blurted out. "If you want to avoid a fight, let me go. They've just spent a month following me. If I get out of the valley, maybe they'll keep following me--"

Adolan turned a sharp glare on her. "No," he said. The druid clenched his spear and stepped out from behind the stone.

"If she's the one thing you want, dolgaunt," he shouted back, "then I swear by the Three Dragons and the Twelve Moons that she's the one thing you'll never have!"

The druid's defiance echoed across the valley. Behind Hruucan, the Bonetree hunters stirred angrily. The tall woman said something to the dolgaunt and raised the sword that she carried. Geth bared his teeth. Even with the protection of the Bull Hole, he flexed his hand instinctively inside the great-gauntlet. "Boar's tusk!" he muttered at Adolan as he ducked back in among the stones. "Couldn't think of a better way to get them angry, could you?"

But out in the clearing, Hruucan simply turned his back on the stone circle and lifted his hand, silencing the hunters. He leaned toward the tall woman and the lean man who had accompanied him out of the forest. Both nodded. Geth stared as the dolgaunt strode out of the clearing and vanished into the trees after the dolgrims.

The tall woman and the lean man began drifting among the hunters, whispering to them. Where they passed, the savage warriors stretched and readied their weapons, looking toward the Bull Hole with a violent glee in their eyes.

"Twelve bloody moons, what are they up to?" said Singe. He glanced at Dandra. She shook her head. The wizard looked to Geth and Adolan. "I thought you said the dolgaunt was the leader of the dolgrims, not the hunters!"

Adolan shook his head. "Dolgaunts are servants of the powers of Khyber. The cults of the Dragon Below revere all such aberrations as holy creatures."

"Can we make a break for it while their numbers are low?"

"No," Geth said. "We don't know where the dolgrims have gone." He studied the hunters, especially the man and woman. They seemed to be in charge now that Hruucan was gone. The woman kept glancing toward the Bull Hole, then back toward the hunters, as she paced back and forth across the clan's line. "They're waiting for something," he guessed. "Maybe they're expecting us to make a break."

"Maybe," agreed Dandra. The kalashtar was watching the hunters as well, her brow furrowed. Geth glanced at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Maybe nothing." She turned to Adolan. "You said the Bull Hole only saw unnatural things like the dolgrims. It couldn't see the Bonetree hunters. It was created to protect against aberrations."

The druid nodded.

Dandra gestured toward the tall woman. "The Bull Hole protected us from the dolgrims and Hruucan, but the hunters haven't even
tried
to approach yet, have they?"

Adolan's eyes narrowed, then went wide. "Ring of Siberys!"

Geth stared at him. "What?" he demanded. "What is it?"

"Humans and aberrations have never attacked the Bull Hole in concert before." Adolan leaned against the stone, peering into the night. "I don't know if the Bull Hole will protect us against humans or not!"

"This isn't a good time to find out!" growled Geth. He reached across his body and pulled his sword from his sheath.

"It's going to get worse!" Singe thrust an arm up toward the sky. "Look!" Geth, along with Adolan and Dandra, followed his gesture.

Up above the treetops in the direction of Bull Hollow, ruddy light lit the underside of a growing column of smoke.

"Grandfather Rat," Geth breathed. Bull Hollow was burning. He knew where the dolgaunt and the dolgrims had gone.

The hunters saw the fire, too. As if it was the signal she had been waiting for, the tall woman thrust her sword high into the air and shouted,
"Su Drumas!"

Savage, screaming battle cries made the night tremble. The hunters sprang to the attack. The Bull Hole's defenses didn't even slow them down.

Geth's heart thundered in his chest. If they stood their ground, they would be trapped. "The Hollow, Ado!" he roared. "We have to get to the Hollow!"

"Just keep the hunters busy!" Adolan spun abruptly and raced back toward the center of the Bull Hole.

Geth bared his teeth and prayed the druid knew what he was doing. "Hold them back!" he shouted at Singe and Dandra. "Singe to the left, Dandra to the right!"

Roaring like Tiger, he hurled himself out from the circle of stones and directly at the massed heart of the Bonetree charge. A lithe little hunter with two long knives leaped out in front of the pack, faster than the other warriors. Geth's sword darted forward, then swept to the side in a lethal arc.

The savage warrior ducked and rolled under it neatly, coming up inside the shifter's guard with his knives slashing in a furious cascade of sharpened metal.

G
eth's right arm snapped in front of his body and the slashing knives grated harmlessly along the blackened plates of his great-gauntlet. High ... low ... outside ... Geth caught every strike on his arm. A year's wages as Singe had said, but worth it. Enhanced by an artificer's magic, the armor sleeve was as effective as the heaviest shield. He took a fast step backward and cut in with his sword once more. The Bonetree warrior twisted to meet the blow--and Geth straightened his arm, bringing the gauntlet up and around in a brutal, heavy backhand. Driven by thick muscles, the ridge of his forearm came up under the warrior's chin. Bone shattered and flesh, snagged by a spike, tore. The little warrior flew back a good three paces to slam into the ground. Geth turned sharply, arm outstretched, and another warrior went down, knocked off his feet by the momentum of his own charge.