The Doom of Kings_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [96]
A whisper sent it darting through the forest on a course away from theirs. Somewhere in the darkness, something grunted in confusion. The bait had been laid, but she needed to make it more tempting. Ekhaas concentrated, altering her song, and noise sprang up to follow the phantom lantern—the crashing sound of six people running.
There was a low hoot of triumph and the faint snap of a twig as the trolls followed her illusion. Ekhaas spun back to the others. “Open the lantern and run again!”
“They’ll see us!”
“As long as the illusion lasts, they’ll have to chase two lanterns. Now go—and everyone stay close to me!”
Just as she had expected, the trolls spotted them almost as soon as they began to run again. They howled at each other for a moment, then Ekhaas caught the sound of something bashing through a bush. The pursuit had split into two groups, but hopefully her first trick had bought them enough time to give them an edge. She began to sing once more.
The song of ages surged, and rushed out of her to wrap around the others. They fell into pace with each other, the measure of the music sustaining them and speeding them on their way. Faster and faster they ran, until it seemed that they were running like horses. Dagii and Midian wore looks of wonder, Ashi of excitement. Chetiin’s face was as unreadable as ever, but Geth, who had experienced this magic before during a grim race across the Shadow Marches, just kept his head down and ran. Ekhaas would have liked to look back and see where the trolls were, but she kept her eyes on the ground. The power of the song gave them the speed to outpace the trolls, but it would only take a snagging root or a turned stone to end her song and allow the trolls to catch up.
A howl of rage rolled out of the dark—the trolls chasing the false lantern had discovered the deception. Another howl answered them as the trolls on their trail realized their prey was pulling ahead of them. Trees crashed and bushes snapped as they abandoned silence for speed. Ekhaas raised her voice, singing her song to the night and pushing the rhythm as hard as she dared. Ashi still carried the lantern, and with her every stride, light and shadow danced. The pillars of the forest flashed by, one indistinguishable from the next. How much farther, the duur’kala wondered, until they were out of the forest? They’d entered slowly, carefully, and it had taken them through late afternoon and dusk.
The sounds of pursuit began to fall behind. They passed the heavy undergrowth that marked the fallen forest giant, darting into and out of the moonlight like fish striking the surface of a pond.
“Close!” Geth hissed between clenched teeth. As if they had realized the same thing, the trolls screeched and howled. New sounds came out of the darkness: thumps and cracks and crashes. The trolls were throwing things, trying to hit the fugitives as they raced away, but their hurled missiles fell far short.
The canopy started to thin out. Smaller plants appeared on the forest floor, moonlight came again in patches through the leaves, and there was once more a gentle but noticeable slope to the ground. The song almost caught in Ekhaas’s throat. They were nearly out!
Then she remembered the final barrier at the forest’s edge. The brambles. They wouldn’t be able to run through those!
And just as she imagined the thorns tearing at her, the fall that she had feared happened—except that it wasn’t her. It wasn’t even Ashi stumbling by lantern light.
It was Dagii. Running just in front of her, he staggered suddenly. There was a very audible snap, and Dagii was down. This time the song caught in Ekhaas’s throat. Between one step and the next, as she leaped high to avoid Dagii’s sprawled form, the magic disappeared. The rushing trees snapped back to a normal pace. The galloping horse slowed to a walk.
Ekhaas landed badly, sliding across the ground and scraping the skin from the heel of one palm. The sting was bad, but not as frightening as the sound of the trolls still in pursuit. The others had stopped running, too,