Arrows of Time - Kim Falconer [135]
What now, Mistress? he asked.
Same thing, only higher, if Jarrod’s on the other side of the door. There was a pause as the loops tightened. He is. Move closer. Scylla, back up, sweet one. We’re getting him.
The heat of the spell flushed his face and in a moment the bottom of the door vanished. There was plenty of room for them to crawl out.
Teg held his breath, waiting for the sound of guards approaching at a run, or the clang of the temple bells. Neither could be heard. He nodded to An’ Lawrence as he led the others out.
‘What took you so long?’ the Sword Master said.
Teg didn’t know if the question was for him, Kreshkali or his temple cat. He retreated down the hall, tilting his head in the direction of the exit. ‘I suggest we hurry,’ he said, taking in the measure of Shane and Jarrod. His eyes rested on Selene. ‘There will be a pursuit.’
‘How many bodies did you leave in your wake?’ An’ Lawrence asked, stepping over a guard. The woman was face down, arms and legs at awkward angles. She hadn’t moved.
‘Enough to rescue you,’ Teg replied, his voice low. ‘Follow me.’ He didn’t turn to see if they did. He could tell they were behind, slinking down the long twisting hallway, keeping to the shadows. When they reached the alley, Teg closed the door, sealing it with a light spell of his own. Kreshkali relaxed her coils when he did. The night air touched his face, cool and fresh after the cloistered warren beneath the temple hall. He tilted his head back and gazed at the stars. When he looked at the others, they were all staring at him. ‘What’s the problem?’ he asked.
‘Who are you?’ Selene asked.
‘Kreshkali’s apprentice. Name’s Teg,’ he said, introducing himself.
An’ Lawrence stepped forward and tapped the serpent on the top of her head. It let out a hiss, mouth wide, fangs bared.
‘And this is Kreshkali,’ the Sword Master said. ‘You needn’t stay in this form forever, you know. I’d hate to see you get stuck like that.’
In a warp of energy, Kreshkali shifted, launching skyward as a night owl, the loops of the serpent disappearing as she burst out of her previous shape. Teg gasped, the sudden release throwing him backward. He watched as she rose above the treetops and disappeared.
Teg, come with me!
He blinked, dropping the weapons at his feet. He leapt after her, shifting into wolf form in mid-stride.
An’ Lawrence grimaced as the Lupin morphed and bolted.
‘This is déjà vu,’ Selene whispered, picking up the swords. She belted one on, and passed the others to the men.
An’ Lawrence held up his hand, listening. ‘Did you hear that?’ he whispered.
‘Guards!’ Jarrod said.
The Sword Master drew them into the darker shadows of the alley. Scylla crouched, bristling, and he kept his hand on her back as he pressed against the wall, motioning for the others to do the same. Boots clipped on pavement and stopped. Scylla jumped to the top of an apple barrel, tasting the air.
Guards, Rowan. Two.
He spotted them. ‘Sentinels,’ he whispered to the others. ‘Don’t move.’
The guards lingered at the end of the alleyway, their conversation clear on the evening breeze. ‘There’s no way to tell,’ the woman said. ‘They may or may not be from the southern continent.’
‘They sure as demons aren’t from around here. I’ve never seen a shift like that, and you haven’t either.’ The other voice was masculine.
‘Come on, Drake. At Temple Dumarka they shift like clouds in a storm.’
‘Gossip!’
‘Fact!’
‘How do you know?’
The woman whispered; An’ Lawrence was barely able to hear her answer. ‘It’s in their blood.’
The man didn’t have a response for that. He struck a match, and a wreath of smoke rose up around his face. ‘What do you think Le Saint will do with ‘em?’ He jerked his head towards the temple.
The woman laughed. ‘Bargaining chips, of course.’
‘For Corsanon?’
‘Where else if, as you say, they are spies.’
‘It’s more likely than your theory—there is no southern continent.’ He chuckled, then stopped suddenly. ‘Did you hear that?’
Red sparks fell to the ground and were crushed beneath his boot. Both sentinels