Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [156]
The Horsekin screamed in rage. The townsfolk screamed in terror, then took off running, pushing each other and shrieking as they headed for the safety of their homes. The red hawk swooped and plunged down after the falling Shaetano, but all at once the fox-lord flung his arms out, seemed to grab some invisible thing in his hands, and vanished. The red hawk fluttered to the ground, wavered, and in a pulse of bluish light, transformed into Evandar. With a cackle of laughter he turned toward the Horsekin.
“Meradan!” he howled out. “Vengeance be mine!”
Evandar flung up his hands, but Dallandra was too fast for him. With a yell of “stop! no!” in Elvish, she leapt down from the stairs and grabbed him from behind, throwing her arms around his waist and hauling him around.
“Run!” she yelled in Deverrian. “Kral, get your people out of here! Zatcheka, you too!”
Evandar pulled free of her grasp, but she grabbed him by the wrists. For a moment they struggled back and forth, but he was by far the stronger. In his rage he would have thrown her to the ground, but Rhodry came running.
“Let her go!” Rhodry yelled. “You're not yourself!”
Evandar hesitated long enough for Dalla to get free of him. Rhodry threw his arms around him from behind and pinned him to his chest, talking all the while, his voice soft yet commanding at the same time.
“Nah nah nah, calm down, man! Come with me, and we'll talk this over, come along now.”
All at once Evandar surrendered. He went limp, then caught his balance and stood, head bowed, clutched tight in Rhodry's arms.
“Forgive me, my love,” Evandar whispered. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“There's naught broken,” Dallandra said. “I never knew you could be so strong here in this world.”
“No more did I!” Evandar threw back his head and laughed. “No more did I.”
With that he let Rhodry march him away. Dallandra rubbed her aching wrists, then turned to find Niffa watching her, all eyes.
“And what were all that?” Niffa was stammering. “Never did I dream that I would be seeing marvels such as that.”
“No doubt. But here, come with me. I want a word with Raena, I do.”
On the grass Raena knelt, doubled over with weeping. She was sobbing so hard that her shoulders heaved. When Dallandra knelt in front of her, Raena raised a face wet with tears. Snot ran down her upper lip.
“Raena, please, listen to me!” Dallandra said. “It's clear that you have dweomer gifts. I can understand how you came to this pass, at the mercy of lying spirits. Ye gods, the thought of being born into some far-off village and married off to some farmer—it would have curdled my blood, too! I would have gone off with Alshandra had she asked me, had I had your Wyrd.”
The sobs quieted. Raena rubbed her dirty face on the sleeve of her black shirt, but still she said nothing.
“It's not too late to forswear the darkness,” Dallandra went on. “You'll have restitution to make. I can't lie to you and say it will be easy. But at the end, the real dweomer will be yours, and you'll never be powerless again.”
Still trembling, her lips a little parted, her eyes wide, Raena slowly looked at her.
“I mean it,” Dallandra said. “I offer you my word. If you're willing to make amends, the dweomer of light offers forgiveness to all who ask.”
Raena stared, trembling—whether from hope or fear Dallandra couldn't tell. Dallandra got up, holding out her hands. Raena rose as well, and her hands were shaking. It seemed for a moment that she would reach out to Dallandra, but suddenly her eyes filled with tears, and she turned away with a wrench of her entire body.
“My lady, my own true goddess,” Raena whispered. “I cannot desert her. You understand naught, naught! She did come to me, she did take me for her own, she did save me. It were like a mother, whose house does burn, and in the house her baby still does lie. Would the mother