She was sweating and trembling by the time she made contact; weakkneed with the effort, as if she had run up a second cliff trail as long as the one they had just traversed.
Then she touched this 'node'-and was hit with a blast of power, as if she stood in the path of an onrushing torrent. If she could have cried out, she would have. She had never felt so entirely helpless in her life.
'Dammit-: Those invisible hands caught her; steadied her. She saw how they were holding her against the power, and altered her 'stance,' opening to it instead of resisting it. Opening what, she didn't know; in point of fact it 'felt' like opening a door that she hadn't been aware existed.
Now instead of being swept away by the flood of power, she had become a conduit for it. It filled her, rather than overwhelming her.
'Good,' the sword said, with grudging admiration. 'I wasn't that quick it teetered on its hind legs. It bellowed again, then collapsed, and did not move. while its fellows began to look about confusedly, Skif darted out of cover before Elspeth could stop him. As a third arrow skimmed past him, just beyond his shoulder, and bounced off-the hide of the nearest beast, distracting it, he flung one of his throwing knives at the beast's eye. It hit squarely; the tiny knives were razor-sharp and heavy for their tiny size. The second beast threw up its head and collapsed like its brother.
Skif darted back into cover.
Before he had done more than reach the shelter of the cleft, a huge shadow passed overhead.
They both looked up, as a second shadow followed the first, and a cry, like that of an eagle, but a hundred times louder, rang out.
Dear gods-Elspeth gasped, and for one moment she could not even think.
'what-the hell-are those?' the sword asked.
Elspeth shook with nerves and fear, as the huge gryphons stooped on their pursuers. She had known, intellectually, that gryphons existed; Heralds had seen them in the sky north of Valdemar, but no one she knew had ever seen one this close.
Or at least, if they had, they'd not lived to report the fact.
For one panicked moment, she thought they had come to join the other beasts against them-and these creatures would not have the limitations of the hooved ones in prying the Heralds out of their shelter.
But they attacked the strange creatures with talons and beaks, knocking one of them entirely off the cliff, and killing another before Elspeth could react, shrieking defiance as they shredded flesh and flew off again.
Well, whatever they are, even if they aren't on our side, they aren't on their side either.
The rest of the beasts turned to defend themselves, forming a heads-out circle, and it was clear that there would be no more easy kills.
It was also clear that the gryphons were not going to give up. Nor, from the carefully placed arrows, was their still-unseen ally.
And damn if I'm going to let them do this alone. Maybe they've heard the old saying about how 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend.' She ran out, nocking another arrow to her bow, before Skif could grab her and haul her back to safety.
'Come on!' she shouted back at him, allowing a hint of mockery to enter her voice. 'What are you waiting for? Winter?'
Elspeth rested her back against a rock, and slid down it. Skif slumped nearby, with his head hanging, his forearms propped on his bent knees,
and his hands dangling limply. There was a long shallow gash in her leg that she didn't remember getting, and another wound (a bite) on her arm that she only recalled vaguely. It was a good thing she had more clothing with her; all Whites, though, the merc outfits were filthy. She'd taken both hits after she'd run out of arrows and knives, and the damned sword had insisted on getting in close to fight hand-to-tooth, horn, whatever.
Neither wound was bleeding, and neither one hurt...'I told you. that's my doing.' That was Need, still unsheathed and in her hand. It was covered in dark, sticky blood, and she had not yet regained the energy to clean it. She had the feeling that the sword wouldn't care-but if she ever put any blade in its sheath without cleaning it, she knew in her soul that Kero and Alberich would walk on air to beat her black and blue. The smug satisfaction in the sword's tone would have been annoying if she hadn't been so tired. 'I let 'em bleed enough to clean 'em out, then I took care of 'em.'
'Well, you were the one that was responsible for my getting hurt in the first place,' she retorted, watching the gash and bite-marks Heal before her eyes. 'I should think you'd take care of them-the sword muttered something about ingratitude; Elspeth ignored it.
