A wave of pain surged across Kest’s face, and he shrieked, bucking hard against the ground. Nira leaped forward, one hand to her heart, the other outstretched.
“Don’t touch!” commanded Renna. “Disturbing it now will kill him.”
Kest wailed again, an ascending scale of sharp, panicked cries, and Renna took him by the wrists, forcing his hands away from his face.
Nira inched forward, itching to make it stop.
“Come any closer and you’ll need a new eye of your own,” the Hand snarled. “Go stuff your ears if you can’t take it.” The boy’s screaming grew even louder.
Gamarron took Nira by the arm, leading her back into the trees. “Come with me, child. You can tell me about the village where you grew up.” A fresh set of screams from the fireside pulled her gaze. “We can’t help, Nira. Come talk with me down by the stream and it will be over before you know it.”
She looked at him without comprehension, unshed tears glistening in the reflected firelight.
He tugged at her arm. “He’ll be fine. Come on.”
Nodding jerkily, she let him guide her away. The screams waxed and waned for the better part of an hour. The two of them sat in the dark by the burbling stream, hoping with each momentary silence that it was over, flinching each time a new scream or sob told them it was not. Their conversation was a poor one. Even when the luminous glowflies emerged from the water as usual, their shine seemed muted and dim, casting fearful shadows over the forest around them.
And then there was a new silence. At first it sounded like all the others, but as they waited for more screams to assault their ears, it stretched on. It was a dreadful anticipation, and it seemed to stretch out endlessly. “Is it done?” whispered Nira. She’d had her fingers stuffed in her ears for the past fifteen minutes. It hardly helped, but it was something.
“I don’t know,” Gamarron replied.
“Should we check?” the girl asked after another eternity.
“We should,” he answered, but he did not move. He didn’t want to see. He could hear muttered conversation from the fire, but the rushing water obscured it.
“Is that him?” said Nira, hearing the voices. “Is he awake?”
And then they knew he was, because they heard him shout. It was different from before. Before had been a sound of pain, of an animal kind of fear. This was a sound of shock, of disbelief. Of rage.
“No,” Kest cried. “No, no, no!”
The sound dissolved into harsh, racking sobs that started low and built in a crescendo of sorrow and fear. They were both rooted to the spot, unable to go to their friend. Not unable. Unwilling. There was a softer sound that must have been Renna speaking, but the sobs burst into an incoherent scream of rage followed by a welter of sound – cracking branches, cascading rocks, and the short, sharp scream of a woman.
Gamarron snapped free of his horrified paralysis and ran for the fire. Nira was right on his heels. When they reached the clearing, Renna was sprawled on the ground, clutching an eye that was already starting to blacken. The turtle-shell pot had spilled the remains of dinner onto the fire, which was smoking and spitting, ready to go out. Kest was gone, a wave of snapping twigs and crushed leaves telling of his retreat. Gamarron helped the Hand of Gaia to her feet.
“What happened?” Nira asked.
Renna’s eyes were glazed. He wasn’t sure she even heard the younger woman. “I shouldn’t have done it,” she whispered. “I thought it would help, but…” She focused her glare and gathered her customary anger. “I was helping!” The pale, bony woman tried to take a deep breath, but it hitched inside her and came out as a sob, her façade collapsing. “I should have known. No! I did know. I knew it.” Leaning on him, she put one hand to her eyes, hiding her tears as if they were a sign of weakness. “Oh, Goddess, I’m sorry.”
Her strangled weeping was the only sound left. Kest was gone.
Chapter 13 An Ill Wind Blows
Nira started awake in her blankets, heart thumping. What was that? She listened to the night, but her heartbeat was too loud in her ears to be able to tell the normal-dangerous forest sounds from... anything else. I did hear something. I know it.
There was nothing. Just the croak of the always-there frogs, the trickle of the water, the soft, whickering breath of the sleeping zephyrs, and Renna’s snoring. Stupid girl. The old man’s keeping watch. Nothing can get past him. She wondered what had woken her. It wasn’t the snoring, as much as she enjoyed complaining about it. She needed to piss, yes, but not badly enough to wake from it. Go back to sleep, dummy. Must have been a dream or something. The Light knew that the evening had given her enough bad-dream material for months to come.
Then the frogs went quiet and someone touched her arm. A dark form squatted silently next to her. Spooked, she yelped and scrambled back, still wrapped in her scratchy blanket.
“Sorry.” The voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. It was Kest.
“Shadow and smoke! Don’t do that!” She reached forward and slapped at his arm, relieved. He was reassuringly muscular and didn’t flinch from her blow. She could just make out his silhouette as a stray glowfly lit up behind him. He was far too big to be Guyrin. Solid. “I’m glad you’re back. We were worried.” She picked at the weave of her blanket, suddenly apprehensive. “Are you... all right?”
Kest gave a harsh laugh. “No.”
She laid a hand on him, softly this time. He was tense, almost quivering. “Kest, listen...”
“No, you listen. There are men coming. We need to go.”
“Men...? Are they hunting us?” She was still thinking about about that eye, but his words sparked the danger sense she’d felt when she first awoke.
“They have animals. Koira, maybe. Six men, two animals.”
