The Queen of Stone_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [22]
A thought brought Steel into her hand, and Thorn could hear the dagger’s protests. Grabbing hold of her victim’s hair, Thorn drew the blade to the side, slashing through flesh. Steel had a supernatural edge; he couldn’t cut though iron or stone, but he tore through the harpy’s neck like soft cheese. Warm blood spattered across Thorn’s arms, and the bird woman fell from the bridge, plummeting toward the bodies of those drawn to their deaths.
You might have—Steel didn’t get to complete the sentence. As soon as she’d completed the stroke, the dagger was back in her glove. Thorn was just another gargoyle among the others, and she had just enough time to cast a quick spell. She could see the dawning confusion on the faces of the creatures around her, and looking toward the southern end of the bridge, she could see a distant harpy staring at her fallen sister, face frozen in shock. In a moment, the foul creature would gather her wits and begin her song anew—if Thorn gave her the chance. Trying not to think about the broken bodies that lay below her, Thorn leaped out into the space between the struts.
Thorn couldn’t fly, but anyone watching might have guessed that the gargoyle could. Her recent spell enhanced her momentum when she jumped, allowing her to cover great distances. Even so, a standing jump to a narrow beam was a terrible risk.
She’d hoped for a safe landing on the strut, for the chance to fight the harpy on her own terms. Instead, Thorn slammed into the creature itself, sending them both tumbling off the beam. The harpy was at home in the air, but Thorn had the advantage of surprise. Before her enemy could shake her free, Thorn wrapped her legs around the harpy’s waist and dug fingers into the tough flesh of the creature’s throat. The harpy’s wings beat against the air as it struggled to push her away; fortunately, the claws on its fingers weren’t as long or as sharp as the talons on its feet.
Above them, Thorn saw gargoyles swarming over the third harpy under the bridge. If it had managed to continue its song, it hadn’t captured the minds of the gargoyles in time. Thorn had achieved her goal—the only question was whether she’d survive.
The two spun through the air, the harpy beating her wings wildly to counter for the unbalanced weight of her enemy. Her chest heaved from the exertion, and her fingernails dug furrows in Thorn’s stomach. But Thorn kept her hands locked around the creature’s throat, denying her air.
The creature was desperate, weaving erratically through the sky. Thorn squeezed harder and felt the harpy’s throat collapsing under the pressure. Then an unexpected impact forced the air from her lungs. The harpy had smashed into the wall of the gorge, ramming Thorn into the rough stone. Sharp rocks tore at her flesh, and her right leg slipped from the harpy’s waist. She just needed a second to catch her breath, to regain her grip …
She didn’t have time. The harpy was mad with pain and only wanted to take its foe with it into the darkness. Thorn saw a rocky outcropping rushing toward her, and then the world went white. When her vision cleared, she caught a glimpse of the harpy crumpled against the ledge above her, blood smeared around her crushed skull. Thorn’s head throbbed, and her left arm was in agony. Was it broken? Dislocated? Distracted by the pain, it took her an instant to realize the greater concern.
She was falling. And the bottom of the gorge was only seconds away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Korlaak Pass Droaam
Eyre 12, 998 YK
For a mad moment Thorn tried to spread her wings, to reach out and catch the howling wind. The delusion passed quickly. Her cloak was flapping around her, and jagged rock lay directly below. She had only moments before impact … plenty of time for a woman trained in the City of Towers. The spires of Sharn stretched thousands of feet into the sky, and she’d learned to leap between the bridges, descending