Kethry. Bolts of bunding white light, like Kethry's daggers of power, leaped from Her hands to Tarma, and to the mage still cradled in Jadrek's arms.
Or, possibly, to the ensorcelled blade still clasped in the mage's hands.
Tarma did not have much chance to see which, for the dagger of light hit her full in the chest, and suddenly she couldn't hear, couldn't see, couldn't breathe. She felt as if a giant hand had picked her up, and was squeezing the life out other. She was blind, deaf, dumb, and made of nothing but excruciating pain --
Only let Keth live -- only let her live -- and it's worth any price, any pain --
Then she was on her hands and knees, panting with an agony that had left her in the blink of an eye -- half- sprawled in the cold dust of the valley.
While beside her, a white-faced Jadrek cradled a dazed, shocked -- and completely Healed -- Kethry. Only the tattered wreckage of her traveling leathers and the blood pooled beneath her showed that it had not all been some kind of nightmare.
As Tarma stared, still too numb to move, she could hear the jubilant voice of the Warrior singing in her mind.
Ten
Jadrek blinked, trying to force what he had just witnessed into some semblance of sense. He was mortally confused.
One moment, Kethry is dying; there is no chance anyone other than a god could survive her injuries. Then Tarma stands up and shrieks something in Shin'a'in -- and --
Kethry stirred groggily in his arms; he flushed, released her, and helped her to sit up, trying not to stare at the flesh showing through the rents in her leather riding clothing -- flesh that had been lacerated a moment ago.
'What ... happened?' she asked weakly, eyes dazed.
'I don't really know,' he confessed. And thinking: Tarma was here, and now she's over there and I didn't see her move, I know I didn't'. Am I going mad?
Tarma got slowly to her feet, wavering like a drunk, and staggered over to them; she looked drained to exhaustion, her face was lined with pain and there were purplish circles beneath her eyes. It looked to Jadrek as if she was about to collapse at any moment.
Tarma fell heavily to her knees beside them, scrubbing away the tears still marking her cheeks with the back of a dirty hand, and leaving dirt smudges behind. She reached out gently with the same hand, and patted Kethry's cheek. The hand she used was shaking, and with the other arm she was bracing herself upright. 'It's all right,' she sighed, her voice sounding raw and worn to a thread. 'It's all right. I did something -- and it worked. Don't ask what. Bright Star, I am tired to death!'
She collapsed into something vaguely like a sitting position right there in the dust beside them, head hanging; she leaned on both arms, breathing as heavily as if she had just run an endurance race.
Kethry tried to move, to get to her feet, and fell right back into Jadrek's willing embrace again. She held out her hand, and watched with an expression of confused fascination as it shook so hard she wouldn't have been able to hold a cup of water without losing half the contents.
'I feel awful -- but -- ' she said, looking down at the shreds of her tunic with astonishment and utter bewilderment. 'How did you -- '
'I said don't ask,' Tarma replied, interrupting her. 'I can't talk about it. Later, maybe -- not now. It -- put me through more than I expected. Jadrek, my friend -- '
'Yes?'
'I'm about as much use as a week-old kitten, and Keth's worse off than I am. I'm afraid that for once you're going to get to play man of muscle.'
She looked aside at him, and managed to muster up a half grin. There wasn't much of it, and it was so tired it
