Storm Warning - Mercedes Lackey [170]
A shrill trilling sound split the air just as the plaster of those whorls split and shattered, releasing something that sprang out into the room and hung, hovering, in the air.
Karal didn’t get a good look at them; they made his eyes hurt, and no matter how he concentrated, the very air blurred around them. He only had an impression of a diamond-shape of sharp blades, frightening and deadly.
He didn’t think, he acted, instinctively flinging himself in front of Talia, keeping his own body between her and them. If anyone in this room was in danger, surely it was Talia!
In the next instant, Altra was in front of him. Every hair on the Firecat’s body was on end, and the Cat howled a piercing battle cry that rivaled the whining trill of the devices.
The diamond-blades moved; the two nearest Karal flew at him as fast as a pair of glittering dragonflies. He flung himself backward, trying to knock Talia to the floor to shield her. He expected at any moment to feel one or more of those blades piercing his heart—
But there was a sharp crack, and two of the devices vanished altogether in a flash of fire, one that originated from Altra’s extended claws. The third went careening sideways, into the path of the fourth, deflecting it—
But not enough.
The device slammed into Ulrich’s chest with enough force to knock him to the floor, as the second device embedded itself in the wall.
The trilling stopped, leaving silence, and the sound of harsh, bubbling breathing.
“Ulrich!” Karal screamed, as he scrambled to his feet and flung himself down beside the Priest. Talia was right behind him, and stopped him before he could pull the damnable device out of Ulrich’s chest. The Priest was still breathing, but he was unconscious, and a thin trickle of blood appeared at one comer of his mouth and ran down the side of his face.
“Don’t touch him,” Talia ordered. “I’ve called for help. I know some Healing, let me—”
Obediently, he moved aside and let her be the one to remove the device. Fearlessly, she pulled it out, and the wound whistled for a second until she slapped her hand over it, blocking it. “It’s a lung-hit, that’s bad,” she muttered under her breath, distractedly. “Very bad—where is that damned Healer?”
Karal hovered beside her, in an agony of helplessness, wanting to do something, anything, and unable to aid her at all. “Ulrich, Master,” he whispered, one hand on his mentor’s forehead, the other on his shoulder on the uninjured side. “Please, help is coming, don’t leave me, I need you, don’t leave me.”
Time just did not feel like it was moving right. Nothing felt like it was moving right. This couldn’t really be happening, Karal thought through a mental sludge. The sounds of their voices and movements seemed truncated, as if they were down a well, and Ulrich’s halting, gasping breaths were too loud.
Then, finally, the door burst open, and a dozen or more people crowded into the room, at least two of them in the green robes that denoted a senior Healer in this land. They swarmed over Ulrich, shoving aside both Karal and Talia. A moment later, they carried the Priest away, leaving Karal and Talia behind, with one other person. Karal started to follow, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“Let me go,” he spat, grabbing the hand to pull it off. But another hand grabbed his wrist and made him turn, and he found himself looking into Kerowyn’s sober green eyes.
“You can’t help Ulrich, and you’ll only get in the Healers’ way,” she said, bluntly telling him the truth that he didn’t want to hear.
“But—” He looked at her, and unexpectedly burst into tears.
Talia put her arms around him—and strangely enough, so did Kerowyn. Both of them held him while he sobbed hysterically.
“Why?” he wept. “Why? He never hurt anyone! He was an old man! He never hurt anyone! Why?”
Neither of the women said anything to him, which was just as well, since he wouldn’t have been able to hear them or respond. They simply made soothing sounds at him and supported him as time wobbled and spun. After a moment, or a candlemark, Kerowyn detached herself and