Wizard's First Rule - Terry Goodkind [70]
“It’s my house. Darken Rahl is there.” Zedd smiled. “He looks to be angry.”
Kahlan touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Zedd.”
“Don’t be, dear one. It’s just an old house. It could have been us.”
Kahlan turned to Richard as they started out again. “Do you know where we are going?”
Richard abruptly realized he did. “I do.” He smiled to himself, glad to be telling the truth.
The three figures fled into the dark shadows of the trail, into the night.
Overhead, two huge winged beasts watched with hungry, glowing green eyes, and then pitched themselves into steep, silent dives. Wings tucked back for speed, they plummeted toward the backs of their prey.
CHAPTER 11
It was the cat that saved him. He yowled and leapt over Richard’s head in a fright, causing him to duck, not enough for the gar to miss him, but enough to deflect the full impact. Still, the claws raked his back painfully and knocked him sprawling facedown into the dirt, driving the wind from his lungs in a whoosh. Before he could take a breath the gar pounced on his back, its weight preventing him from breathing or reaching his sword. Before he went down he had seen Zedd sent tumbling into the trees by a second gar, and now it went crashing through the brush after him.
Richard braced himself for the claws he knew would come. Before the gar could rip him open, Kahlan heaved rocks at it from the side of the path. They bounced harmlessly off the beast’s head, but it was distracted momentarily. The gar roared, mouth agape, seeming to split the night air with the sound, and held him pinned like a mouse beneath a cat’s paw. Richard struggled mightily to lift himself, his lungs burning for air. Blood flies bit his neck. He reached behind, pulling out handfuls of fur, trying to get the great arm off his back. By its size he knew it had to be a short-tailed gar; it was much bigger than the long-tailed gar he had seen before. The sword was under him, digging painfully into his abdomen. He couldn’t get to it. It felt as if the veins in his neck would burst.
Richard was beginning to black out. The sounds of yelling and roars from the gar were growing fainter as he struggled. Kahlan got too close in her flurry of rock throwing. The gar reached out with frightening quickness and snatched her by the hair. Doing so caused the beast to shift its weight enough to let Richard gasp desperately for air, but not enough to allow him to move. Kahlan screamed.
Out of nowhere, the cat, all teeth and claws, sprang to the gar’s face. The cat howled, clawing furiously at the gar’s eyes. With one arm holding Kahlan, it lifted the other to swipe at the the cat.
When it did, Richard rolled to the side and sprang to his feet, drawing his sword. Kahlan screamed again. Richard swung in fury, severing the arm that held her. She tumbled back, free. Howling, the gar backhanding him before he could bring the sword up. The force of the blow sent him flying through the air, landing on his back.
Richard sat up, the world spinning and tilting. The sword was gone, thrown into the brush somewhere. The gar was in the center of the trail, wailing in pain and rage as blood gushed from the stump. Glowing green eyes searched frantically for the object of its hate. They locked on Richard. He didn’t see Kahlan anywhere.
Off to his right, in the trees, there was a sudden blinding flash, illuminating everything with intense, white light. The violent sound of an explosion hammered painfully into his ears as the concussion from the blast tumbled him against a tree and knocked the gar from its feet. Rolling flames whirled through gaps in the trees. Giant splinters and other debris hurtled past, streaming trailers of smoke.
Richard began a frantic search for the sword as the gar came to its feet