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"Timka!" Pegwai's voice had an urgency that brought her quickly to his side. "Go after them," he said, one word tumbling on top of the next, "They're going for the Aggitj. They want to trade us for the Boy." "I hear you." She tugged at the ropes about his ankles. "Knife, I need& " She jumped to her feet and ran out. The guard she'd defaced was still clinging to life and groping weakly. She wrenched the knife from his hand, slashed it across his throat, then ran back inside. She cut Pegwai's hands free, dropped the knife beside him. "Take care of Skeen. When I get a minute, I'll send transport for you." In the short time she'd been on the ground the winds had strengthened and the clouds thickened; the threatening storm was no longer threatening but on them. She switched from owl to sea eagle and fought her way north after wasting several minutes trying to find a stratum of contrary flow; battered, tossed about like a rotted leaf, she struggled toward Sikuro, flying a lot faster than the vo, but far slower than she wanted. Unless she missed them when she passed through the fringes of a cloud, they were already in Sikuro. Though the gusts of wind and rain were dangerous, she dipped almost to roof level so she could find her way in the confusing maze of the Quarter. A too-familiar cart was tied up outside the tavern where the Aggitj were staying. Timka dived for the second-floor window of the Aggitj's room. She clipped her wings tight, plummeted through, snapped them out and shrieked a warning as the door ghosted open and the Chalarosh came sweeping in. The Aggitj tumbled out of their quilts, caught up their weapons before they were fully awake and were immediately in a silent but vicious battle. Scuttling to get from under trampling feet, Timka managed to reach a free corner of the room where she shifted to cat-weasel. Before she could start peeling the attackers off the Aggitj, a Chalarosh landed on her back, got a sinewy arm about her neck and began squeezing; his other hand drove into her side, probing for her life organ. A flash of wonder, why not a knife? and she was struggling frantically. This was worse than the time Angelsin had her; the way he was positioned (by luck or planning) she couldn't get at him; her limbs were too stiff, too awkwardly placed, the loose tough cloth of his sleeves baffled her claws; her brain was burning, her lungs were on fire, she could feel life slipping from her grasp. Grasp. Hands. Need hands. Need need need in her desperation she did what she thought was impossible; the seed planted days before by Domi's question ripened to fruition. Her paws swelled into broad strong hands, her neck shortened, thickened and resisted the pressure on it more effectively. Using a skill she'd never learned, a skill that came into her mind and body from Skeen's memories, she drove her thumbs into the nerve plexus of his elbow. When the crushing hold loosened, she twisted around, got hold of his little finger and snapped it. As he screamed and sought harder to dig his hand into her body, she got her hind paws on the floor and pushed off, breaking free to switch ends and clap both hands hard over his ears; using another move that flashed across her mind's eye, she drove a handspear into his throat. Leaving him crumpled on the floor, she leaped onto the back of a Chalarosh Page 86 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html attacking Hal, jerked his chin up until his neck snapped, bounded away. Movement was a little awkward in this hybrid shape, but that wasn't much of a problem. She didn't have to run any races and the powerful hands combined with the skills transferred from Skeen were a deadly addition to her natural strengths. The fight was fierce, but short. Movement stopped. The noise died except for the scrape of harsh breathing. Hart spoke, the single word shocking as it broke the silence. "Light." He went into the hallway outside the room, came back with a lamp. He took the chimney off and lit the lamps in the room. Timka shifted from hybrid to Pallah, sighed with pleasure as she resumed the more familiar form. She was astonished by what had happened but not ready yet to think about it. The floor was littered with Chalarosh bodies. Timka started counting them. One. Three. What? A slim white form among the robes. She dropped to her knees beside the Aggitj boy, lifted his head, turned it. Domi. Very gently she laid his head down and felt for his pulse. There was none; she didn't expect to find any, not with the loose boneless way his neck moved. Hands trembling, she got to her feet. Hal came to stand at her side, clutching a ragged gouge in one arm. "Domi?" The word cracked in the middle. "Domiiii!" It was a wild shriek. Ders flung past her and threw himself down beside the body. He lifted its head, shook it, wailing in unrestrained grief. He wrestled the body around and lifted it into his lap like a mother holding a sleeping child, rocked back and forth, sobbing and babbling in Aggitchan. Looking grim. Hart reclaimed his knife, and began moving from Chalarosh to Chalarosh. Not all of them were dead; he dispatched them with a quick neat pass of the knife. One. Three. Five. The sixth was conscious enough to spit his corrosive poison at Hart who twisted aside and jerked up a fold of man's robe to block the flight of the spittle; he jerked more of the robe up, wrapped it around his fist, shoved it in the Chalarosh's face and drove his knife up under the man's ribs. He wiped the knife on the robe, got to his feet and stood watching Hal trying to quiet Ders. He cleared his throat. "Ti, that all of them? Six." She rubbed her arms. "No." She shivered. "No, there were eight of them. Ahhh& " She closed her eyes, did a rapid report of what she'd learned, why she'd coming winging in just in time to wake them. "Pegwai is waiting out there. I expect Skeen's still under." She looked over her shoulder at the window. "If you could get that cart and the vo& " She permitted herself a small tight smile at the feral grin on his square face and gave him directions for reaching the hut. "It's a bad night out there; I imagine they'll head straight back, they think they've still got Skeen and Pegwai to bargain with, you were just insurance." She crossed to the window, grimaced at the solid curtain of rain, that was going to be a misery flying through. She shifted and backed off so she could get a running start. Behind her Hart was bending over Ders, shaking him, talking to him in a low voice, a flow of Aggitchan that interrupted the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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