Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [109]
He took advantage of his greater reach and heavier weight to tackle the man, heedless of Pier’s sword, which raked across his ribs. Caelan gripped Pier by the front of his tunic, twisting it hard at the man’s throat, and slammed him into the wall of the stables, pinning his sword arm beneath him.
Pier swore and struggled, but Caelan braced his feet and held him bodily. Then he pressed the flat of his sword against Pier’s wounded side.
Arching his back, Pier screamed a shrill, piercing cry as though his soul was being torn from him.
Flames and steam rose between them as Exoner burned away the poison inside Pier. A terrible stench filled the air—not from burned flesh but from something much worse, something inhuman.
A man wearing Pier’s colors dared grab at Caelan’s arm. “In the name of Gault, desist! Take me, demon, and let my master go!”
Caelan glanced at him, and bared his teeth. “Get back,” he said, spitting out the words.
The man turned pale and backed away.
But by then someone else was shoving a group of jinjas forward. “Stop the magic! Stop it!”
The small green creatures stared at Caelan and did nothing.
Relieved, he turned his attention back to Pier. The screams stopped. When Pier sagged against the wall, Caelan took his sword away. Pier was as white as the limestone wall behind him. He looked at Caelan as though he would speak, then swooned.
Gently Caelan lowered him to the ground.
Men rushed closer, but Caelan glared at them. “Stay back!”
“Monster!” one shouted back.
“Demon!” another cried.
“Will you eat him?”
“Lord Pier is dead!”
“He isn’t dead,” Caelan said grimly, touching the rapid pulse in Pier’s wrist. “Not yet. Just stay back!”
But now the jinjas approached him. They bared their small pointed teeth and stared at him with bright eyes.
“No fear, master,” one of them said. “We protect.”
And they formed a ring around Caelan and Pier, keeping the others away.
Consternation seemed to flow through the crowd, but Caelan ignored it. He was grateful to have the creatures on his side.
Gingerly he tugged at the burned edges of Pier’s tunic, parting the cloth to look at the wound. It was well cauterized, the bleeding stopped. Although burned and raw, the skin looked human. Caelan saw no more black blood.
Hardly daring to hope, he peeled back one of Pier’s eyelids. Although the eye was rolled back, it looked a normal color.
One of the jinjas crouched beside Caelan and put its narrow hand on Pier’s chest. “My master,” it said.
Caelan frowned. “Is the darkness in him gone?”
“Mostly. I will take the rest.” With that, the jinja stretched itself across Pier’s chest and began to utter an eerie whine that made Caelan wince.
Hastily he backed away from whatever spell the jinja was weaving, for its magic was not compatible with his own.
Wiping off Exoner, Caelan slid the sword into its scabbard. The clouds closed over him again with a muted rumble of thunder, and it began to sprinkle.
Silence stretched over the courtyard. The crowd stared at Caelan in wonder and fear. He frowned back at them, not certain what they had seen. There should be something he could say, to reassure everyone and dissipate the tension that was like a wall against him. But no words came to his tongue.
Looking over their heads at the steps rising up to the palace, he saw a woman standing near the top, her full skirts billowing in the wind. His heart lightened at the sight of her; then he frowned again.
What would Elandra say about this debacle? He had not meant to alienate her people. Now they feared him, and soon that would turn them against her also. He had let her down, and he was sorry.
His gaze swept across the faces staring at him. “Lord Pier is not dead. Let me pass.”
They parted for him and he walked alone, his head held high, his shoulders tense in expectation of an attack.
But no one dared move against him this time. He walked up the endless steps as the rain strengthened to a light patter, cleansing him of sweat and blood. The cut across his ribs stung, but it was hardly more