and jokes. He heard his new elleryn being smashed beneath boot heels.
He closed his eyes. It was over for him.
Then someone gasped—a sound filled with fear and loathing. Bodies shifted, and from out of the darkness a figure emerged, blacker than the night, robes billowing in the wind, a wraith exuding terror.
“I warned you not to harm him.”
The voice was a crackle that rose above the sounds of the storm. Everyone went silent. For an instant the entire world seemed frozen in time. Costa Fortren turned. “We have no need to do as you …”
“You have every need,” the wraith replied. “But now it is too late.”
In the next instant the entire area lit up in sudden explosions of fire as huge torches burst into flame and screams filled the air. But the torches were neither of wood nor pitch, but of human flesh as the Fortrens and their allies caught fire, one after the other. Burning alive, unable to extinguish the flames, they ran screaming this way and that, rolling on the ground, flinging themselves into puddles of mud and water, beating at their flaming bodies helplessly. Their efforts failed. The fire was relentless. One by one, they were consumed, collapsing in charred heaps, their lives extinguished until all that remained were Reyn Frosch and the dark figure striding toward him.
“I told you to wait!”
The boy still couldn’t talk, his voice little more than a ragged croak. He pushed himself into a sitting position, trying to avoid looking at the bodies heaped all around him.
Strong arms pulled him to his feet. The black-cloaked stranger from the Boar’s Head leaned close, his features bladed and hard. “We’ll talk about this later. For now, hold tight to me.”
Aching and worn, the boy held on for dear life.
TWELVE
REYN REMEMBERED LITTLE OF WHAT HAPPENED NEXT. THE strong arms guided him through the dark and the rain to where an airship waited and then helped him aboard. His body was battered and bloody from the pummeling he had taken at the hands of the Fortrens, and exhaustion and weakness combined to cloud his thinking. He stumbled several times and almost fell off the ladder once, but eventually he was settled in a corner of the vessel beneath a canopy, and wrapped in blankets with his head pillowed. Drowsiness overcame him, and he was asleep almost instantly.
But just before consciousness faded, he was aware of someone else moving over to sit next to him. Soft hands loosened his clothing, and wet cloths were applied to his injuries. A voice whispered, soothing and low, and he was infused with a sense of peace.
He remembered, too, the sound of the airship powering up and lifting away, of the rush of the wind and the whisper of the rain continuing to fall, and finally of terrifying images of men turned into human torches.
After that, he slept. In his sleep, he dreamed and his dreams were dark and haunting. He was fleeing once more, pursued by a nameless terror, a black wraith cloaked and hooded that appeared each time he thought he had left it behind, thwarting his every attempt at escape. It neither spoke nor acted against him, yet he knew it was evil and intended him great harm. He fought hard to evade it, to place obstacles in its path and hide from its coming. But nothing worked. It was an inexorable force intent on crushing the life out of him.
At one point, men tried to stand against it. And as it was with the Fortrens, they were set afire and turned to ash, their lives extinguished in the blink of an eye.
When he woke again, it was dawn. The first of the new day’s light was just a faint glow on the horizon. The airship had landed, and the diapson crystals were silent within their hooded parse tubes. The light sheaths rippled and flapped softly in a gentle breeze. The rain had moved on. Overhead, the sky was clear and offered the promise of a sunny day.
He lay where he was for a few moments, not wanting to disturb the feeling of comfort that cocooned him. Hints of his injuries surfaced when he tried to move, so he chose not to. Not right away. He began thinking of what had happened the previous night, the horrific images resurfacing as his memories returned. He had been chased and hunted and nearly killed before the black-cloaked stranger had rescued him and the Fortrens had all burned …
A shadow