The Song of Andiene - By Elisa Blaisdell Page 0,76

of the path.

“Listen, Kare,” he said. “We must play a game. Your father is waiting for you at the end of this path. Run as fast as you can, and I’ll try to catch you. Don’t go off the path. Just see how fast you can run, and how soon you can reach your father.”

She was puzzled, not quite understanding this new game.

“Do you think that I can catch you?” he asked.

“No!” and she giggled.

“Very well then, run!”

She ran forward lightly and Kallan followed. The sun had passed its crest. Fool that he was, he had not wakened her to leave at first light, thinking that he had all the time he would need. The sword swinging at his side made him clumsy, but he could not leave it behind. Some of the forest creatures, the grievers, the rardissian, were mortal, for all their magic.

The child had outdistanced him and was out of sight, far ahead, he hoped, on the winding path. He ran on, and tried not to glance up at the sky, to see how little daylight he had left. Horseback riding, sword fighting, they did not make for swift running. “Though men know the ways of the forest well, they all walk down one path too many.” Someone had said that long ago.

He saw the child far ahead, walking. “Kare, run!” he cried out. Instead, she stopped and waited for him.

“My side hurts.”

“Run anyway!” He caught her by the arm and pulled her along. “If you want to see your father again, run!”

She ran, but not so swiftly. He could keep pace with her easily, now. He could have outdistanced her. Then it was twilight, dimming quickly, and she realized the danger, child of the forest that she was, and ran willingly. “Do not speak,” he gasped. They might buy a little time, even after nightfall, if they went silently.

But the song of death already echoed in the distance.

“Run!” Kallan said, and pushed her on. The howling was very near. He turned and drew his sword, though it was a hopeless gesture. These were the dark ones, the shadow hounds that no sword could touch.

They flowed out of the shadows, running single file, so sure of their prey, so hungry for the taste of death. The leader sprang, and Kallan raised his sword in a futile reflex. In mid-air, a tongue of fire lashed past him and struck the hound. It screamed as it fell to the ground, shadow-body outlined in flames. The second one sprang and fell and burned the same. The hounds sang louder, but slowed their pace.

“Come,” Kare said. She was the leader now, pulling at Kallan’s hand, and every minute, she turned and stared, and behind them was another flash of flame and keening wail.

A bend in the path, another one—the paths of the forest have no end. The safehold was linked to Kallan by his blood, but he had ridden from it on horseback, traveling far faster than he could run. He did not know how far they had to go.

The dark ones stayed well back, but sang still louder, calling their masters to the fight.

But the safehold was ahead now, a sturdy and welcoming pile of stones. Kare saw her father standing at the foot of the steps, between the wide-spreading dragon’s paws, and summoned a sprinter’s speed to outdistance Kallan. A thought of grim irony went through his mind. If she forgot him at the sight of her father, he might be slain yet, so close to safety. But she turned, and again flame crackled through the air, and another hound screamed and was silent.

The rest hung back and were afraid. He needed no more help. When he reached the safehold, Ilbran stood on the bottom step, holding his daughter in his arms. She smiled to see Kallan, then closed her eyes, her body going limp.

Kallan reached out and touched her throat, to feel a steady pulse, then regarded her father. Nothing but bewilderment in his blue northerner’s eyes.

“Why did you not tell me that you had raised one of the wise ones?” Kallan asked.

Ilbran shook his head. “I did not know, though I feared.”

“Why fear? We would have died. Alonsar snapped a bone in his foreleg; I had to kill him. She saved her life and mine. In all my life I have seen only one other like her.”

Ilbran carried his child up the steps. Silently, he laid her down on the safehold floor. Clumsily, he tried to pick