Heirs of Prophecy - Lisa Smedman [122]
Intent upon her prayer, Larajin at first didn't pay any attention to Rylith's quick intake of breath, but then the druid spoke in a strangled whisper.
"No-what was Doriantha thinking? She has stabbed him!"
"Who's been stabbed?"
A glance into the amber gave Larajin the answer. She
"Goddess, no!" she said in a high, tight voice. "That captive-it's Tal. They're about to execute him!"
* ¦* *¦
Heart pounding, Larajin winged her way toward the town as fast as she could fly. Fear lent an urgency to each stroke of her wings, and determination made her ignore the oldiers in the streets below who were pointing up at her and shouting. An arrow sang past her, barely a pace away, but she only realized the soldiers below were shooting at her when a second arrow, closer than the first, snagged her wing and sent her tumbling. Furiously, she beat her wing to loosen it from her feathers, then recovered and flew on.
A short distance behind her, a small black shape trailed in her wake. Leifander had skinwalked only a heartbeat or two after Larajin did, but whether he meant to help her or to try to stop her was unclear. Nor did it matter. The only thing Larajin could think of was Tal.
Swooping down to street level, she flew toward Ilmeth's Manor. With a rush of relief, she saw that Tal was still alive. Two Red Plumes had dragged him out onto the street, and were trying to force the struggling Tal to his knees. The archer-one of the Red Plumes- stood a few paces away, an arrow nocked but the bow held loosely at his side. The other captive lay on his face in the street in a pool of blood, the point of an arrow protruding from his back. The soldiers threw Tal face-first onto the ground beside the body, then took a quick pace back. The archer raised his bow as Tal struggled to rise.
Howling her fury, Larajin dived at the archer. She raked him with all four feet, claws tearing at his face. Above her, she heard a hoarse caw, and from behind her came a stranger sound-the snarl of an angry dog. She risked a glance back, and saw Tal rising to his feet, getting ready to run. There was no time to see if he made it, however. She had to avoid the archer, who flailed at her, cursing.
Larajin scratched his arm, but her claws slid harmlessly off the thick leather bracer that protected it. His fist connected with her head, knocking her spinning through the air. She crashed into a wooden rail in front of the building opposite Ilmeth's Manor, and felt something crack in one wing, then she fell heavily to the ground. Shaky, unable to rise, she looked up and saw the archer aiming his arrow at her.
So this is how I'm going to die, she thought, vision blurring from the pain of her injured wing. Silently, she began to pray. Goddess enfold my soul in your love, I-
A heartbeat before the archer loosed his arrow, a large dark shape streaked up the street. Leaping into the air, it struck the archer full in the chest, knocking him down.
The other two soldiers-Ilmeth's men-were also in trouble. Leifander, still in crow form, had landed on the rooftop above Larajin and was flapping his wings furiously. The blast of magical wind he summoned caught the two full on, tumbling them backward like blown leaves against the steps of Ilmeth's Manor. Inside the manor, Red Plumes officers shouted orders, drew steel, and tried to join the fight. The wind howled in through the open doorway, driving them back.
At last able to rise to her feet but still unable to straighten her injured wing, Larajin looked around. She saw no sign of Tal-she prayed that meant he'd escaped- but she did finally get a good look at her savior. It was an enormous wolf that stared back at her with bright green eyes. Amazingly, the wolf reared up and walked like a man on its two hind legs. Bending at the waist, he reached down with paws that looked like elongated, hairy hands, picked her up, and gently cradled her to his chest, then he ran.
The pain of her injured