The Doom of Kings_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [97]
She scrambled back to him, barely rising up from her hands and knees. “Dagii?”
“Ankle,” he said shortly, his voice thick. “There was a hole.”
Ekhaas looked to the foot he had drawn up close to himself. His boot was stiff leather and showed no sign of the injury beneath, but it was surely a sign of how hard he had fallen that the metal greave above was wretched sideways, one leather strap snapped in two.
Geth, well ahead, came trotting back to them. “What happened?”
“I think his ankle is broken.”
“Grandfather Rat!” Determination crossed his face. “Chetiin, Midian—watch for those trolls! Ashi, scout forward and find the edge of the thorns. We’re close.” He squatted, dropped his voice, and spoke to Dagii and Ekhaas. “Can you walk, Dagii?”
“With help,” Dagii said. “But I can’t run. Maabet! You’re almost out—leave me!”
“No. Ekhaas, can your magic get him back up?”
The shifter had some idea of the capability of her songs to heal. She’d used them on him before. Ekhaas looked down at Dagii’s ankle, still encased in the boot, trying to guess at the damage. “I don’t know how bad it is, and I don’t think we have time to get the boot off to look. It would need to be set—”
Geth dropped Aram, grabbed Dagii’s foot by toes and heel, and pulled hard.
Dagii roared in pain. He reached forward, lashing out, but Geth rocked back away from his punch. “It’s set! Do what you can.”
“Geth!” shouted Midian. “The trolls have gone quiet!”
The crashing had stopped. The trolls must have realized they weren’t fleeing anymore. The monsters were stalking them again.
Ekhaas looked at Dagii. “I can heal it partially. You’ll still be in pain and you might hurt yourself more by trying to run.”
“Do it,” Dagii said through his teeth.
She wrapped his hands around his ankle and drew on the song again. She heard Dagii gasp and knew that he’d felt the touch of healing magic, as wild and sharp as if her song had drawn on the beginnings of life itself. His eyes opened wide. His ears rose again. Ekhaas held on as long as she dared, letting the magic do its work of knitting bones and flesh together, then released him. Geth was already standing, and he helped Dagii to his feet. Dagii put his weight on the ankle and winced, then nodded. “It will do. Where are the trolls?”
“Too close,” said Chetiin. He stared into the darkness, ears twitching, then pointed. “That way. They’ll break if we run, and I don’t think the thorns will slow them down. They’ll catch us before we’re through.”
Geth cursed. “We need to slow them. Ekhaas, can you make another phantom lantern?”
“It wouldn’t fool them again. I have an idea, though.” Her throat was raw from the power that she had channeled through it—from Dagii’s healing and the illusions she had cast, from the sustained song that had gained them ground on the trolls—but she had the strength for one more song. She focused her attention in the direction Chetiin had pointed and shaped her voice into bright and rippling notes.
Bright sparks of light condensed out of the air, like sunlight given form. The sparks drifted and floated, leaving a glittering dust on the undergrowth, but especially on the trolls.
The lurking monsters were caught off guard. Five of them stood confused among the sparks. They swatted at the glimmering cloud as if at insects, but the whirling lights only seemed to get thicker. Dust stuck to them, turning rubbery flesh golden. One of the trolls wailed and scrubbed at its eyes. An instant later, they were all doing it, blinded by the dust. The trolls didn’t stop, though. With eyes watering and arms groping ahead of them, they kept coming.
“It won’t last,” said Ekhaas. Her voice was a croak. “It will buy us time, though. Come.” She gestured at the lantern glow that was Ashi, waiting at the edge of the thorns.
Geth bared his teeth and his hand tightened on Aram. “It won’t buy enough time. You, Dagii,