deadly,” he said.
“Not the time,” she told him, but she couldn’t help smiling. The tide of battle had definitely turned against the perytons. The air was filled with spears and spells, savage shouts and monstrous shrieks. Tigerclaws and Belen finished off the peryton she’d wounded and brought down another. Two more of the monsters, unable to fly but still dangerous, struck out with their antlers. Roghar and Hurn tried to get close enough to land killing blows while Uldane-the rope slipped from his leg-danced around and flung daggers at the creatures. Other perytons flapped desperately for the open sky as Albanon and Tempest threw silvery bolts and fiery blasts after them. Albanon’s hand swept across the sky, tracking the flight of one, then he flicked his fingers. The air shimmered with invisible force and the peryton dropped out of the sky as if it had been struck by a huge, unseen hammer. Blue-black feathers drifted down after it.
Shara spun around, searching for the elder, and found her circling overhead with two other perytons, the last of their flock. The monsters were screaming, a frightening blend of eagles’ cries and stags’ booming bellows. Those below spread out warily, all faces turned skyward. Turbull came over to Shara. “First blood is yours,” he said, and slid a bloody quill into her hair.
She left it there for the moment. “What do we do now?”
“We wait,” said Turbull grimly. “Any other beasts would flee, but these perytons seem capable of-”
A warning cry from one of the Tigerclaws cut him off. Turbull’s head snapped up. Shara followed his gaze just in time to see two dark forms plummeting down from above-one of them coming right at her. She glimpsed red eyes that shone with vengeful fury.
Then Quarhaun stepped in front of her. He’d drawn his sword, the eerie black blade that focused his warlock magic as Tempest’s rod focused hers. Quarhaun shouted a word and slashed the sword through the air.
The peryton vanished in a sudden burst of shadows, only to reappear in a similar burst about a dozen paces to Shara’s right, much closer to the ground and going just as fast. Shara didn’t think it even had time to spread its wings before it hit the ground with bone-splintering force.
The second peryton spun and turned as it dived, evading spears flung by the Tigerclaws and fiery spells thrown by Tempest. It leveled out, skimming the ground as Tigerclaw warriors leaped out of the way-except for Cariss. The shifter woman stood with her warpick ready and whirled just as the peryton reached her.
It was faster than her. Wings twitched, the feathered body rose sharply, and talons locked around Cariss’s shoulders. Warrior and monster both screamed at the same time, then the peryton was flapping hard and climbing fast.
Turbull howled like an animal and snatched a spear from the nearest Tigerclaw. Taking three long steps, he hurled it after the peryton. The spear flew as fast and true as if it were propelled by magic. The weapon buried itself in the peryton’s body just behind its wings. The peryton’s scream of triumph ended suddenly and the creature dipped in its flight-then recovered and kept climbing.
“Another spear!” bellowed Turbull. “Bring it down!”
“I don’t think it’s going to get much farther,” Shara said. The spear had weakened the peryton. Its wings slowed and it dipped again, fighting to both stay aloft and keep its grip on the struggling shifter beneath it. A moment later, its entire body sagged.
Its talons opened. High over the trees, Cariss cried out as she tumbled free.
“No!” Turbull roared. All around him, the other Tigerclaws were shouting. One voice, however, rose above the tumult-Albanon’s voice, yelling a single, ringing arcane word.
The air around Cariss seemed to flicker, then the warrior was no longer plunging toward the trees but drifting as light as a piece of fluffy down. Shara turned to find Albanon lowering his upthrust staff. Most of the Tigerclaws ignored him in favor of rushing to catch the slowly falling Cariss, but a few slapped the eladrin as they raced by. A slow smile of success blossomed on Albanon’s face. Shara smiled back at him.
She didn’t see the peryton elder until it was too late.
One moment, Albanon was smiling at her. The next, a shadow had fallen over him. And the next, a feathered blur had dropped out of the sky to snatch him up. The attack was so swift and caught Shara so completely off guard that she almost didn’t recognize the monster. It was only when the creature paused, struggling to fly off again, that she recognized the elder’s five-point rack of antlers and brownish plumage. It took her another instant to realize why the peryton was struggling: Albanon, stunned by the ferocity of the attack and unable to resist, was still tied to the stake.
“Spears!” she cried, but at the same time the elder gave a deep bellowing cry and pulled up hard with her legs.
The stake-the last of the three to be driven in-jerked free of the stony ground. Albanon’s staff tumbled to the ground as the elder shot up with the wizard hanging limp beneath her. Quick-thinking Tigerclaws lofted spears toward the creature. Quarhaun and Tempest flung blasts of magic from sword and rod. The peryton elder didn’t try to gain height as the one that had seized Cariss had, though. Instead, she angled up just enough to skim above the top of the trees, momentarily out of sight. When she climbed into view again, she was halfway across the valley and far out of range. Another bellow echoed back on the wind.
For a long moment, that was the only sound, then Tempest whirled on Turbull. “Where is it taking him? We have to follow!”
“It’s taking him to its nest,” the shifter chief said tersely. “It may keep him alive. It may not. We can follow to the base of the cliff, but after that…”
“I’ll climb,” said Uldane as he and the others joined them. He retrieved Albanon’s staff and gripped it tight. “Whether he’s alive or not, I’ll climb. I’m good at that.”
Shara didn’t take her eyes off the elder. The big peryton flew with a speed and strength that none of the others had matched. Did she see Albanon struggle in the monster’s grasp? It was hard to tell. It might just have been the wind jostling his body. She watched intently as the peryton wheeled and dropped down to a shadow that marked one of the larger ledges on the stone face. “There. That’s where the nest is,” she said, pointing.
At exactly the same time, light flashed on the ledge. It might have been sunlight on a mirror or a piece of polished metal, except that it seemed too bright and the white color of the reflected light was wrong. Shara lowered her arm.
“What was that?” asked Quarhaun. “Was it Albanon?”
“Maybe,” Tempest said, shading her eyes to peer at the cliff. “But that didn’t look like fire or lightning. I don’t know what-”
The light flashed again-but this time it burst from the distant ledge in a flare so intense that Shara jerked her head away. Some of the shifters cried out. When Shara looked back, bright spots danced in front of her eyes. The shadow that marked the ledge had been joined by another shadow-a tall black scorch mark on the stone. Nothing moved on the cliff face.
“That wasn’t Albanon,” said Tempest.
The blow from behind was so sharp and so sudden that it drove both breath and wits from Albanon’s body. For a moment, he was only aware of light and shapes rushing around him. Strange pressures pushed against him, almost like falling up if that were possible. The movement seemed to drive hot nails into his chest and shoulders, sending searing pain deep into him.
The pain snapped him back to alertness. He found himself staring down, his head lolling against his chest, and the top of trees flashing beneath him. He jerked at the sight-and more pain seared through him. Then he saw the talons gripping his shoulders, heard the thrum of beating wings and the rasp of labored breath. Smelled the stink of a carnivore-and realized what was happening.
He looked up at the belly and breast of the biggest of the perytons.
Albanon’s first instinct was to struggle, but the peryton felt that and tightened its grip until he gasped. His second instinct was to blast the creature with a spell, but his sudden gasp and the rushing air had stolen his breath again-which fortunately gave him a moment to recognize what a spectacularly stupid idea that would be. The spell of gentle falling he’d used to save Cariss was complex and the effort of casting it had scoured its patterns from his mind for a time. If he were to blast the peryton, he’d fall even farther than the shifter had. Plus the landscape below looked completely unfamiliar. The knoll where’d they’d ambushed the flock was far behind him.
Panic leaped inside him. Were they even still in the valley?
But the peryton banked suddenly-sending another sharp wave of pain through Albanon-and a new but familiar vista presented itself: the stone face of the mountain above the valley. With it, however, came new and horrific
