The Shadow Companion - Laura Anne Gilman [25]
Newt just didn’t trust magic…at all.
But he did trust Ailis. Usually.
She raised her face to the sky and began speaking more loudly, but the sound barely carried to where the boys were hidden.
“Time to get moving,” Newt said, elbowing Gerard, who merely nodded.
A powerful breeze suddenly rose, blasting out of the trees behind them and rushing down into the village, then swerving suddenly and rushing back up to where Ailis was now standing. She was rock-steady, even in the winds, her arms outstretched to direct where the air should go. Her hair blew madly about her face, keeping clear of her eyes and mouth so that she could continue working the spell, but it wound around her neck and shoulders like live snakes.
She looked like a sorceress.
The spider-things, at first oblivious to the magic, started jittering nervously when the first wave of Ailis’s conjured air hit them. Then, like hunters scenting blood, they turned almost as one and started up the hill.
“If they rush her, all at once…”
“Don’t think,” Gerard said. “Move!”
As stealthily as they could, the two boys moved across the line of demarcation and into the village. There was a moment of quiet and then, while the little black creatures remained fixated on Ailis, and nothing new rose from the discarded dogs’ bodies to challenge them, they raced to the nearest knight.
It happened to be Sir Brand. He was conscious, but barely, and in no shape to even try to break free of the bonds. Newt slung him over one shoulder, staggering a little under the weight, and started back out of the village.
Behind him, Gerard grabbed Sir Daffyd, planning to do the same thing. His hand made contact with one of the white bonds, and he jerked it away, disgusted by the cold, sticky feel of the webbing. Something made him look up then, just in time to see a handful of the spider-things finally turn and head in his direction. His touching the web must have somehow alerted them.
Uh-oh, he thought, then started to lift Daffyd, planning to make a run for it.
“Teine!” Ailis called in a strange language, one hand pointing directly at Gerard. “Teine!”
The wind curled around Gerard, shoving him uphill. Then it seemed to thicken, and it heated to an almost unbearable level until sparks flew and a burst of flame erupted from the gust, scorching one of the spider-things, and driving the others back in a skitter of legs and bodies.
It gave him only a few breaths of safety, but he used them, making a mad dash, running faster than he ever thought he could move. He stopped only when Newt reached up and grabbed him, pulling the squire and his knightly bundle down to the ground.
“We have to go back for the others…” Gerard was already twisting his body around to get up on his feet again when Newt’s hand on his shoulder held him back.
“Let Ailis do her thing first,” Newt suggested. “And we need to see if we can get these ropes off them.”
“You do that—I have to try and get them out of there!”
Newt swore under his breath, then turned to Sir Brand. He placed his hands on the spider silk, curled his fingers around the strands and tugged. Behind him, the winds of fire Ailis was directing seemed to falter, but then surged again. The spider-things dodged out of the way. Her lack of control was evident in the near misses, but she was still able to keep them from trying to attack her directly.
“Come on!” Newt muttered, pulling on the threads. He could feel his frustration and anger rising, and tried in vain to ignore it.
“Break already!” he commanded the threads. He closed his eyes and put all his strength into the muscles that years of working in the kennels and stables had given him. He might never swing a sword the way Gerard did, but he knew ropes, and he knew