From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [142]
“Ooh, look how pretty the rocks are!” Gren crouched and scooped up two handfuls. “Could they be obsidian?”
Averella’s breath caught, frozen by a distant memory she could not quite grasp. “No, Gren. Do not touch—”
Gren screamed. She dropped the rocks and jumped up and down, shaking her arms and hands.
Sir Rigil ran over. “What is it?”
Black spots wriggled on Gren’s skirt. She screamed again. “Get them off!” She shook her skirt, but the black things remained. “Get them away! I don’t want them to—”
“Shh!” Jax said.
Sir Rigil batted at the beetles on Gren’s skirt.
Gren continued to shriek. “There’s another one there!”
A shriek of a different kind chilled Averella’s blood. Gren quieted. Everyone’s head turned in unison toward the cluster of black on the ceiling. The gowzals rustled and chirped, a sweet sound like a hundred hungry baby chicks.
“Out.” Jax waved at the cave. “Quietly as you can.”
Averella took Gren’s hand and walked over the crunchy ground to the cave. Gren’s hand trembled. Averella pulled her along, trying not to think about the beetles underfoot. Sir Rigil lit a second torchlight and handed it to Gren.
The green light revealed a bare tunnel. No beetles in sight or gowzals on the ceiling. The sound of rustling wings behind Averella caused her to increase her speed. Then the gowzals cried out, high-pitched screeches that seemed to shake the tunnel walls. Steel scraped against wood. A sword drawn.
Averella and Gren passed through the dark, winding cave, stumbling over rocky terrain. She glanced over her shoulder to see Sir Rigil run around the corner holding his torchlight above his head, followed by Jax and Bran, who moved backward, shuffling their feet, swords drawn.
The gowzals came in a cluster, the way a herd of cattle might stampede. Hundreds of eyes glinted in the torchlight.
“Run!” Jax shouted.
Averella’s memory of the gowzals in Macoun’s tower made her legs move faster. Gren stumbled. Sir Rigil grabbed her arm and pulled her along.
A hole in the ground swallowed Averella’s right foot. She fell, breastplate and sword clanking on the stone floor. Her hands, knees, and her left cheek slammed against the ground. Jax lumbered past, but Bran tripped over her. His sword clattered to the ground, and their armor scraped against each another.
“Averella! What are you doing?” Bran said.
“I fell. There’s a hole.” She pushed her raw palms against the ground to lift herself, but Bran threw himself over her, pressing her back against the cool stone.
Wings flapped above like the trill of a tabor drum, fanning what little bit of her arm that was not shielded by armor or Bran’s body. Averella held her breath, praying the creatures would not notice them, praying the panic and excitement would keep the flock together.
Sudden silence but for Bran’s heavy breathing in her ear.
He shifted, and his weight left her back. “It’s all right now. They’ve gone.”
“I do not hear Gren screaming. Think they are well?”
“They must be,” Bran said.
“Unfortunate that they have taken both lights with them.” Averella pushed up with the sides of her hands, avoiding the stings of her ravaged palms. She put down a knee, but it hurt as well. She grunted and pushed up anyway.
A sword scraped against wood. Bran sheathing his weapon. “Are you well?”
“I skinned my hands and knees. I shall live.”
Bran wrapped an arm around the armor protecting her waist. “Need me to carry you?”
She laughed. “If I can breathe, I can walk. How can we know which way is forward?”
Bran’s hand found hers. “Let me worry about that.”
His touch sent a thrill through her. She held tight as they proceeded forward slowly. Averella’s free hand found the right wall and used it as a guide. She relaxed when torchlight gleamed around the curve of the cave. But then it went out, and the blackness returned. Her temples itched.
Jax mi Katt.
We are well, Jax. I fell in a hole and skinned my—
Ebens