Her stomach turned into a cold ball of ice. He smiled, and she stepped back another pace, her hand reaching for a sword she no longer wore, palms sweating, feeling the blood drain from her face.
'Well,' he said, his voice full of amusement. 'So you have some fight still. I will enjoy breaking you, Outlander.' His eyes narrowed, and his voice lowered to a seductive purr. 'I will enjoy taking both your mind and your body-'
'Not this day,' called a high voice, in pure Shin'a'in, from the ruins behind Falconsbane.
Falconsbane's head snapped around; Elspeth gathered her primitive, clumsy power just in case this was nothing more than a ruse.
But there were people behind the Adept; perched atop rocks, peering from behind walls, an entire line of people. Black-clad, one and all, some veiled, some not, but all with the same cold, implacable purpose in their ice- blue eyes. And one and all with drawn bows pointed at Falconsbane's heart.
'Not this day, nor any other,' Darkwind coughed, struggling to his feet. Elspeth gave him a hand, and stood beside him, helping him balance.
He did not look to be in any shape to enforce those brave words; he swayed as he stood, even with Elspeth's unobtrusive support, and his face was drawn with pain.
But there were all those arrows pointed at Falconsbane; surely they had him now-didn't they?
Or did they?
After the first flash of surprise, Falconsbane straightened again and laughed, sending a chill down Elspeth's back. 'Do you think me so poor a player, then, to show all my counters before the game is over?' Elspeth did not even have a chance to wonder what he meant.
She had no idea of where the thing came from, but suddenly it was dropping down out of the clouds-a huge, black, bat-winged creature that seemed big enough to swallow her whole and have room for Gwena afterward. It buffeted her with its wings, knocking her off her feet with a single blow, then slammed her into a rock-all the breath was driven out of her by the impact; her head snapped back against the stone, and she slid down it, seeing stars.
She blacked out for a moment, but fought back from the dark abyss that threatened to swallow her consciousness. As she struggled back, shaking her head and swallowing the bile of nausea, Falconsbane laughed again.
Her eyes cleared. That was when she saw that there were two of the things. One of them had Hydona trapped beneath it, its talons on her throat, ready to rip it out if she struggled. She looked out helplessly as the creature drew blood and looked expectantly at its master. Then Elspeth could only stare in horror-The other had Gwena in the same position.
Darkwind lay in a heap just beyond her; eyes closed, unmoving.
Treyvan faced the beast that had his mate with every feather and hair standing on end, kill-lust making him tremble. Muscles rippled as he restrained himself from attacking, and the stone beneath his talons flaked away in little chips from the pressure of his claws.
'Gwena-: she Sent.
'Don't!' the Companion shot back. 'Don't move, don't anger it!.. Her mind-voice died to a whisper as the beast tightened its grip on her, and little beads of blood stained her white coat under its talons. 'Don't do anything. Please.'
'Stalemate, I think?' Falconsbane said genially. The arrows of the Shin'a'in did not waver, but neither did the archers loose them.
'Well, then. In that case, I think I shall fetch what I came for.' Hydona uttered a wail that was choked off by the brutal grip of the beast prisoning her. Treyvan seethed with rage, eyes burning with fury.
'It is not yours, Changechild,' said one of the Shin'a'in, in a hollow voice that sounded as if it came up from the depths of a well. 'It was not made by you, it does not obey you; it is not yours.' Falconsbane lifted an eyebrow. And half-turned to lash out with yet another bolt of power; this one aimed at the young gryphons, a flood of poisonous red.
'no!
The cry was torn from Elspeth's throat-but from others as well. One of those others was free to act.
Nyara leapt to her feet, her hands full of Need's hilt, holding it between herself and her father. The bolt of power struck the blade instead of the young gryphons, and built with an ear-shattering wail as Need, collected the blast And changed it; from sickly red to burnished gold. Elspeth's hea~. stopped as she watched, not fully understanding what was happening . but fearing the worst. She heard Darkwind utter something about 'transmuting,' and then he trailed off into a stream of what she guessed to be incredulous Tayledras curses.
