A Plague of Giants (Seven Kennings #1) - Kevin Hearne Page 0,78

took off his head, then the hound snapped at his horse and killed it, too.

“Use your nets!” I shouted. Pak Sey ben Kor didn’t have one, but Pen and the mushroom enthusiast did. They pulled out their launchers, turned, and fired at the final houndsman as their horses struggled uphill. The young clansman’s shot sailed high, but Pen’s net settled around the hound’s head, and it tossed about, trying to shake it off. Its legs remained unbound, and if given enough time it would win free, especially with its rider’s help, and resume the chase.

“Kam! Your nets!”

My cousin wrestled his horse from a full panicked gallop to a canter, then turned it around and whipped a launcher from its sling. The houndsman was trying to free his hound from the net, but the creature thrashed around so much that he couldn’t get a grip on it. I slowed my horse, coming up behind him, and brought up my own bow to bear, pulling an arrow out of my quiver. My shot, though carefully aimed, missed the houndsman because of a last-second lunge by his hound. I’d do better to aim for the beast.

Kam had two launchers, like me. He shot his first net at the houndsman, which prevented him from swinging his axe, and then he drew closer, pulled out his second launcher, and aimed for the hound’s front legs. Once it was tangled up and it went down, both it and its rider howling in frustration, ben Kor and I poured arrows into its vulnerable side and into the houndsman until their struggles ended. The other two houndsmen had died along with their mounts, the force of their collisions with the earth snapping their necks or something else vital. Large beasts moving that fast weren’t meant to stop that suddenly.

Tip and Yar and the trader boy whose name I am ashamed to admit I could not recall were all dead. I wanted to sing the songs and give them back to the roots but knew we wouldn’t have time to do it properly. Our clash surely had been heard by others, and they would be coming soon, or else they would when the patrol did not report in. Pen’s chest was heaving and tears streamed down her face as she saw Yar and his horse lying downhill. I felt the pricking of tears in the corners of my eyes, too, but they would have to wait.

“We have to keep going,” I said. “The Canopy must know as soon as possible that the Hathrim have a military presence here.”

“What?” ben Kor said. “What about our people?”

“We have to leave them. We still have a mountain to climb and can’t be sure we’ll make it without a significant lead—you saw how fast they moved. If we don’t make it back, then that gives the Hathrim more time to dig in, more time to plot an invasion of our shores.”

“We can’t simply leave!” Pak protested. “Tip was my friend!”

“And Yar was my clansman!” I yelled at him, refraining from pointing out that he had not fought at all to save the friend he cared so much about now. “And Pen’s brother! But it’s Canopy first, benman; you know that! We have to get back to Forn and let them all know through root and stem that we have been attacked by houndsmen, and what’s more, there’s a whole host of Hathrim just a few hours away from our border. Imagine the damage a few firelords could do to the northern hardwoods before we’d have time to muster a response.”

He spluttered, “They would never attack us.”

“I’m sure you thought they would never settle north of the Godsteeth either. And now they have this incident that they can use as an excuse to retaliate. Because of course they won’t say that they attacked us; they’re going to say we attacked them! What if this isn’t just Gorin Mogen, ben Kor? What if this is a plot among all the Hearthfires to wrest the Fifth Kenning from us to fuel the First?” Both Pen and Kam gasped at the thought. It was an ancient fear among us all. The Black Jaguar squinted at me. “You’re saying this was planned?”

“Yes.” It galled me to have to fertilize his ego, but prudence dictated that it was the only way to get the harvest I wanted. “You’re good at this kind of thinking. What would the plan be?”

His eyes fell to the back of his horse’s neck as