Emberhawk - Jamie Foley Page 0,37
strands that held his right arm in place. “Kira,” he whispered.
She hung there, motionless, like an upside-down scarecrow to ward off humans from d’hakka territory.
“Kira!”
She didn’t respond.
Perhaps it was for the best. If she woke up like that she could panic, making enough noise to summon the beast back from whatever corner of hell it was hiding in.
The silken strands refused to break. Ryon gritted his teeth and poked his fingers through the sticky webbing that bound the silk threads together. He searched for his dagger and mentally thanked his leatherworker for designing the strap that prevented the blade from slipping out of its sheath and plummeting to the earth below.
He kept an eye out for the d’hakka as he carefully cut himself free. Just because I’m alive by some miracle does not mean Felix will be forgiven. This is all his fault.
Click, click, click.
Ryon froze. He couldn’t see it.
Then the d’hakka crept into view, slinking through the trees to his right.
Daylight revealed much more detail than he’d been afforded last night. Thick hairs sprouted from each of its eight legs and claws from its mandibles. Half of his arrow shaft still stuck into one of its black eyes, and its front leg had bled over into a misshapen stump.
Ryon’s heart beat so loud he worried it would draw the creature to him like a beacon to finish its task. He pulled out his dagger, but his arm didn’t have full range of motion yet. And he wouldn’t be able to dodge any of its strikes—could he kill such a massive creature with just a dagger, anyway?
Kira stirred and her dangling arm twitched. The cocoon buckled and muffled a scream.
The d’hakka paused, then shot toward her.
Ryon thrust his hand out and willed a branch near Kira to burst into flame. It popped and smoked.
Bleed you, Felix!
The d’hakka halted. Five glittering eyes seemed to turn and focus on him.
Ryon snarled at it even as terror squeezed him tighter than the silk. “Come here and I’ll lop off another—”
A branch beside him erupted into flame, then one beside Kira as well. The d’hakka shrieked and reared back as another fireball exploded in front of its face. It jumped, smacked into a branch above it, and skittered away at a disturbing pace.
Ryon watched it go, incredulous, then looked around for the fluffy orange fox that had surely returned to save him.
“Ho, there!”
Two men appeared through the emaciated trunks, each with long silver hair, though one was young and the other old. The elder hobbled with an outstretched cane, clacking it on the earth and brushing it across his path as the younger man led the way.
Confusion squelched Ryon’s relief. Everything from their gold-lined clothing to bright orange eyes indicated that they were Emberhawk. But the Emberhawk tribal lands were far to the west—a tropical paradise on the southern coast that couldn’t be more different from this accursed forest.
“You all right?” called the older tribesman.
Ryon swallowed to clear his throat. “I think so,” he replied. “Kira, it’s okay!”
She muffled something between a panicked cry and a heart-wrenching sob.
“Don’t worry.” The younger man gestured at each fire and they snuffed out in turn, leaving only blackened patches on the trees. “It’s gone.”
“Let’s get ’em down, quick. Poor souls.” The older one hobbled forward, clacking his cane against branches and avoiding them cautiously.
Ryon squinted at the man’s eyes. Though they shone with a vibrant orange hue, they had no pupils. He’s blind.
“Thank you,” Ryon said as they approached. “You have perfect timing.”
“Oh, no.” The older man chuckled. “Well, yes, lucky for you, at least. But we’ve been ruining this d’hakka’s schemes for quite some time now. Normally we’ll find a nest quick-like after a hunt.” He reached his cane up and tapped Ryon’s head with it.
Ryon looked for weapons among the man’s slim tunic and cloak but found none. “You hunt d’hakka?”
“Oh, no. Only crazies do that.” His toothy grin was wide and bright. “If we can stop ’em before they stick their prey full of poison, we normally get a good meal and plenty of silk, ya see.” He nodded to himself. “And then the silk’s not so hard to clean.”
They’re silk traders. Ryon eased his grip on his dagger and continued awkwardly cutting himself free. He watched the younger man climb Kira’s tree and speak something to her that Ryon couldn’t discern. That explains some of it, but still . . .
“This is the most dangerous place to be harvesting silk,” Ryon said. An