Strange Attractors - Kim Falconer [192]
Teg groaned, whether from the reminder of the wound or Kreshkali, he didn’t know.
‘What’s this?’ Jarrod pulled them up short. The broken body of a Lemur raven lay before them, wings bent, face buried in the mud. The feathers were lank, soaked in blood and rain. Her blue eyes were unseeing.
‘Oh no. Makee…’ An’ Lawrence appeared behind them, handing his reins to Jarrod. He knelt, pulling the bird out of the mud; he tried to fold the wings to her back but they kept falling open. He looked up at Teg and Jarrod, his face white. ‘She’s still breathing.’ As he stood, he put the black bird under his cloak; rain was sheeting off his face and shoulders. ‘Enough of the rain and lightning,’ he shouted. ‘It’s over. Call it off. Bring out the sun.’
Jarrod nodded, guiding Teg to a tree stump. The horse, delighted to see him, followed like a puppy. He took Teg’s cloth sword belt and cinched it tight over his gaping shoulder wound. The Lupin winced but didn’t cry out. They sat together, back to back, with Drayco, Scylla and Rosette surrounding them, guarding the circle, adding their thoughts to the spell.
The sun warms my face, Teg began. I’m glad in my heart to see it shine again.
The earth is firm beneath my bare feet, Jarrod replied.
I’ve never seen the sky so blue, Rosette said. She pulled off her cloak, turning her face towards the clouds. Or the breeze so soft.
My fur is dry, my paws clean. Drayco’s rich voice filled his mind. Together, with their thoughts as one, they dissipated the rain storm and brought sunshine and warmth to the battleground.
The reprieve was short-lived, at least in Rosette’s heart. As she looked around the battlefield she wished they’d left it raining. The drab colours had veiled what the sun exposed. She was happy for the warmth, but the visual revelation was another thing. The light stung her eyes and the shimmer of every wet surface magnified the feast of death around her. Bodies glistened in the mud everywhere she looked. Bile rose in her throat and she pulled her eyes away from the twisted limbs and vacant eyes. She focused on the top of Drayco’s head; his large ears were pointing back, listening. ‘What is it, Dray?’
Can you hear now?
She rubbed the side of her head, pushing lengths of wet hair away. ‘It’s coming back, slowly.’ She scratched him under the chin, her fingers bloody. ‘You’re a mess, lovely.’
Have you seen yourself, Maudi? Not any better, I promise.
She smiled. ‘I feel like a blacksmith’s anvil that’s been pounded all day.’
You look pretty much like that as well.
‘Thanks. You too.’ She gazed at Teg then allowed her eyes to drift over Jarrod, her lifelong companion in a stranger’s body. ‘We all do.’
An’ Lawrence’s scouts and a pack of Lupins were readying to escort the surviving Corsanons out of the woods, seeing them back to their borders. It would be a long ride and she was glad she hadn’t been assigned it. The dead were dragged across the ground, over the pools of blood and gore, and tied to their horses. A grey mare stood to the side, not letting anyone handle her.
‘Rose,’ Jarrod said, and went to her. ‘Easy girl.’ He calmed her, whispering something in her ear, and handed her over to a disarmed Corsanon. Rosette put her head in her hands, covering her eyes.
Maudi? Drayco’s tail fanned the air. Are you all right?
‘I’m not. Look at our temple grounds, Dray. Our beautiful forest is defiled, and still Temple Dumarka has vanished. It’s abandoned, ruined. What happened? Where is Kreshkali?’ She sucked in her breath and turned to the crevice in the cliff. ‘Where is Passillo?’
The temple is not abandoned, Maudi.
‘What’s that, Drayco?’ She stood, scanning the woods.
Temple Dumarka is not lost. They come.
‘Who comes?’
Follow me.
He led her past the clearing, skirting bodies yet to be hauled away. They passed ancient columns scattered like kindling around a camp, overgrown with vines, half buried in the loam. At the edge of a towering redwood tree she stopped, her hand on the soft strands of peeling bark. ‘Dray? What are