A Plague of Giants (Seven Kennings #1) - Kevin Hearne Page 0,164

bones felt traumatized, and for good reason. Ponder must have seen the pain on my face.

“The shock will wear off after a few minutes,” he said. “Give it some time.”

“Did we just age, too, or was the burden borne entirely by Jubal?”

“We aged a little, yes,” Ponder said. “Riding the wind is always expensive. But Jubal paid for most of it.”

“I think I’ll sit, then, and wait to feel better before moving on.” I half fell down and took my first good look at Möllerud below. The Peles Ocean was to our left, the green swells of Brynlön were to our right, and a gray, empty city watched over by blackwings squatted like a memorial instead of a home to many thousands. Even the bright blues and whites the Brynts favored had faded in the absence of life, and the hammered bronze domes on some of the buildings were dull and lusterless.

Dark smears fouled the grass outside the walls. Parliaments of blackwings feeding on corpses or else the rags and leftover blood of those already eaten.

“Look at that, Ponder.”

“It’s horrific.”

“I can’t imagine why anyone would do that to other people.”

“That’s what we’ve been sent to find out, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is. How much were you told about this mission?”

“Very little. We’re supposed to locate the invaders, report what we see, discover if they intend to attack us, and find out why they attacked the Brynts and Raelechs.”

“Correct. And you’re to stay with me unless we find an imminent threat to Kauria; is that right?”

“Yes. Messages sent by ship otherwise.”

The closest port was Setyrön, and the road to it, well worn by traders’ wagons and horses, beckoned to us along the coast. But we had no messages to send yet beyond what the mistral already knew: Möllerud was no more.

A fleet of anchored ships with their sails furled bobbed in the ocean outside the city. That looked like a good place to start looking for clues about the Eculans’ intentions. Perhaps there would be written orders that I could read.

Catching Ponder’s eye, I pointed to the port, determined to get the mistral’s work done and make my brother’s end mean something. And maybe being driven like him was not so bad. Maybe my obsession with language would help me save lives as he had with his kenning, except through peaceful means. “Shall we begin there?”

We walked slowly, still recovering from the journey, and the smell from the city only grew in our noses as we approached. I saw bodies rent by violence and gnawed on by animals and connected it to Saviič’s lunges at my person from his cell. I had felt sympathy for his imprisonment before, but seeing what his countrymen did to these innocent people without provocation, or anyway without any efforts at diplomacy, left me satisfied that he was where he should be.

A narrow, bumpy trail forked to the left to travel directly to the port, skipping the city gates. We took it and shortly discovered that the city was not empty after all. A party of six Eculans sprinted toward us from the gates, their bone armor clapping against their bodies as they moved. Their faces were painted, and they held large bent swords. We had no weapons because we never used them.

“Ponder?” I said.

“I see them.”

“They do not look peaceful.”

“They will be whether they wish to or not,” he replied. “Stand firm here. Call out to them in their language. I will leave one with breath to speak.”

“What do you mean? You won’t kill them?”

“No. But neither will they kill us. Be patient and trust me.”

I fumbled at the clasps on my bag and then plowed my hand into the oilskin pouch to find Zanata Sedam. Seizing it and holding it aloft, I cried out, “I am a follower of the Seven Kennings!”

They slowed, shot glances at one of them who must be their leader, and he barked at them, “It’s a trick! Kill them!” and they resumed their charge at full speed.

“He said they should kill us,” I mentioned to Ponder, feeling that might be relevant to our interests.

“Very well. Let’s calm them down.”

The tempest stretched out his hands to the Bone Giants, fingers splayed, and then he turned them palms up and crunched them. I don’t think the gesture was necessary, but such movements helped the blessed sometimes visualize what they wished to accomplish. In this case, he pulled all the air out of the Bone Giants’ lungs. They gasped to refill them