Orphans - Kevin Killiany [37]
The bowman ducked, clearly expecting a sword slash, then turned, his back toward Pattie as the rider brought his mount around.
The beast pranced again, a strangely delicate move, then wheeled and plunged. Pattie saw an arrow fly wide, missing the wildly dancing target just meters in front of the bowman.
The rider leaned out again, his sword raised, and again the bowman ducked. The sword parted the air just above his head, neatly clipping the top third of the bow away.
Without a backward glance, the rider trotted toward Pattie, sheathing his weapon as he came. As he drew close he spoke, his voice lighter than the other’s.
“Pleased to meet you, I’m sure,” Pattie answered, straining to focus on the figure towering above her.
“Excuse me for not getting up.”
Through the beast’s legs she could see that the swordsman continued to lie on the ground. The bowman, however, was running toward the distant underbrush. She bet he’d be returning soon with reinforcements.
The mounted native spoke again, this time raising one hand, palm up.
“Oh, you do want me to rise,” Pattie said.
All things considered, compliance seemed in order, though she doubted she’d have much success. She pushed against the ground and was surprised to discover the shaft of the arrow had been lopped off centimeters above her back. She was able, just, to pull herself free.
The native spoke again.
“Oh, my lower left arm is shot, so to speak,” Pattie said. “And I’ll leak for a while, but otherwise no real harm done.”
Stooping down, she pulled the arrow fragment from the turf. The point was buried nearly half a meter down. And the point itself…
“See this?” She held it up for the native to see. “No wonder it cut through me. This arrowhead is durillium. From the way it’s beveled, my guess is it’s an insulating tile designed to tessellate with other tiles just like it. Someone has been dismantling a nuclear reactor.” She turned the arrowhead over in her hands. “I wonder if they realize that?”
“Atwaan,” said the native.
“Atwaan?” asked Pattie, raising the arrow high.
“Atwaan,” the native repeated, pointing in roughly the direction she—and he, she now realized—had been traveling.
Pattie could hear shouts from the woods.
“I hear Atwaan is lovely this time of year,” she said.
Then, taking a risk she wouldn’t have dreamed of moments before, she raised her upper arms to the rider.
“Give a bug a lift?”
CHAPTER
20
The sky above was gray and rough, but light, light was everywhere. Lights, lamps, torches…
His mind shied from torches. Shadows on the sky? Ceiling. The ceiling was gray and rough. And moving toward his feet. He was floating? Being carried, gently, by giants. Where was the tunnel? He had been in a tunnel.
“Where am I?” he asked the giant at his feet, carrying the foot of his stretcher.
“We are in a medical facility, Fabian,” said the giant as it set him down on a table. A bed? But its lips hadn’t moved.
“How?”
The giants left without speaking.
“Over here, Fabian.”
Stevens turned his head and regarded a blank wall of the same clean gray as the sky. He considered this for a moment, then turned his head the other way.
There was Soloman sitting on a high bed. He must be on a high bed, too. But he was lying down and Soloman was sitting and surrounded by books and papers.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“I believe your hair loss and pallor indicate acute radiation poisoning in humans,” Soloman said. “Are you experiencing vertigo and disorientation?” Soloman paused, then added, “Ignore that question; they would not have carried you here if you had not collapsed.”
Stevens focused on ignoring the question. Soloman helped by ringing a bell.
The four of them had been guests or prisoners of the Barony of Atwaan for how many days? He was not sure. But he had slept at least twice, and it had been dark when he was on the surface at least twice. That was twice twice.
Tev he had not seen twice. Tev had been with the baron. Abramowitz had been in the tunnels, too, but not the same ones. He saw her more than twice and they talked.