The Sundering: The Sentinel Part 16

Arietta tossed the robe to him, then instantly lost sight of him as he dived to the ground and rolled into the shadows at the base of the wall. Seeing that Joelle had already taken a position about three paces from the stairwell, Arietta stopped next to her and turned to face their pursuers-only to discover the shades had changed directions and were already sinking into the shadows behind the nearest horse line.

Kleef, down to just two foes, was standing his ground no more than five paces from Arietta and Joelle. Beyond him, the battle against the orcs seemed to have stabilized, with wizards and mounted caravan guards working the perimeter of the fight, slowly forcing the enemy back toward the well.

Malik was nowhere in sight.

Realizing that the shades did not necessarily need to go through her and Joelle to reach the top of the citadel wall, Arietta spun around and looked up the stairs. Near the top, she saw a line of dark silhouettes emerging from the shadows, then continuing upward toward the top of the wall.

"Joelle, above us!"

Without waiting for a reply, Arietta charged up the stairs. Set into the wall itself, they were steep and narrow, with no handrail to offer support. Still, she managed to climb quickly and was more than halfway up when the fifth shade emerged from the shadows near the top and turned to face her.

A trio of Joelle's white darts came flashing up from the courtyard below. The shade managed to dodge one and catch two on a shield of shadow. By then, Arietta was on him, hacking at his knees, then driving her sword up into his torso. She angled the tip of her blade toward the citadel interior and sent him plunging into the courtyard below.

"Go!" Joelle called. A wet crunch sounded as she brought her blade down across his neck. "They're after Malik!"

Arietta nodded, then traded her sword for her bow. She nocked an arrow and, expecting to see a shadow disk flying toward her at any moment, crept the rest of the way up the stairs.

The attack never came, and when she reached the top, it was to find herself alone. The last four shades were moving along the wall in both directions, their gla.s.sy swords probing shadows and crannies as they searched for Malik in every conceivable hiding place.

Arietta stepped onto the top of the wall, then crouched in the shadows of the parapet. She heard Joelle's voice down at the base of the stairs, calling out to Kleef.

When Malik did not reveal himself, Arietta whispered, "Malik?"

Her only reply was the sound of Joelle's boots pounding up the stairs behind her, and the faint rustle of leaves, coming up from the trees on the other side of the parapet.

Or were they leaves?

Arietta rose high enough to peer over the parapet and found herself looking down on the vast Chondalwood forest. The canopy was perhaps twenty feet below, a billowing blanket of moonlit leaves that came up tight against the base of citadel walls. She saw no sign of niches or crannies in which the little man might hide, but the walls were rough enough that he could have climbed down to conceal himself among the trees.

Arietta leaned over the parapet, then called again, "Malik?"

This time, a soft scoff sounded behind her. Arietta turned to see a gray blur charging toward her, two outstretched hands leading the way.

"Malik!" Arietta let go of her bow and raised an arm to defend herself. "What are you-"

Then he hit her, and Arietta felt herself going over the parapet. She grabbed a handful of coa.r.s.e wool, then realized it was too late to save herself, that she would only pull her attacker down with her. She tried to open her hand, but her feet were already in the air, Malik already coming down atop her.

"Thief!" he cried. "Harlot!"

They tumbled apart and crashed into the forest canopy, and the last thing Arietta saw before sinking into the leaves was Joelle's stunned face, peering over the parapet after her.

CHAPTER 13.

KLEEF PLUNGED INTO THE FOREST CANOPY WITH HIS FEET together and his arms held wide, s.n.a.t.c.hing at branches and boughs as he dropped through the tangled darkness. He managed to grab hold of only twigs and leaves and began to realize just how reckless he had been to jump. But what choice had there been? He could not be sure that Arietta and Malik had survived their fall, and in the confusion of his dream, Kleef had revealed the Eye's hiding place. If Malik was dead and Yder located the body before Kleef did, Malik's robe would be lost.

Kleef's boots came down squarely atop a limb. Then the limb bounced and his knees buckled. He toppled off backward and went tumbling down through the branches, falling from bough to bough almost gently, his descent gradually slowing until he felt almost under control. Finally, he landed face-down on the tip of a particularly long limb, which slowly dipped until it had deposited him feet first on the forest floor.

Once the branch had risen out of the way, Kleef found himself looking at the base of an enormous duskwood tree. Though he stood less than five paces away, the forest gloom was so thick that he could barely make out what he was seeing and thought his eyes must be deceiving him. With a heavy beard of moss and a pair of horizontal ridges that looked like lips, the trunk resembled the profile of an old man's face-complete with a heavy brow ridge and crooked branch-stub that looked like a hooked nose.

Then something stirred above the branch-stub nose, and a pair of pale ovals appeared beneath the brow and swung in Kleef's direction.

Eyes.

The eyes seemed to study him for a moment, then blinked and swung away, looking in the opposite direction.

Kleef was too stunned to react. He had heard of treants, of course. But in the tales sailors told, treants were not kindly beings who caught hapless men as they fell from the sky. They were huge walking trees who guarded their forests against loggers and farmers and all manner of fire users-and who always seemed to be attacking some poor ship's crew as it tried to replace a broken mast.

An impatient rustle sounded from the far side of the treant. The pale ovals swung back in Kleef's direction and lingered on him expectantly, then a low creaking noise came from within the moss beard. Kleef may not have been able to understand the word, but its meaning was clear.

Go.

Kleef drew Watcher from its scabbard and started in the direction the treant had indicated. After a moment, a wall of dappled light appeared through the trees, and he soon realized it was moonlight reflecting off the cliff beneath the citadel. Standing in a small clearing at the base of the cliff were two figures, both holding swords and facing each other. They were not fighting, but the shorter figure was waving his blade around angrily and complaining in a whiny, nasal voice.

Malik and Arietta-both alive.

Kleef was about to call out to them when he glimpsed silhouettes moving through the undergrowth around them. He feared for an instant the shapes were orcs or shades, but they had curled horns on the sides of their heads and a strange bouncing gait that seemed more beast than humanoid. Uncertain of quite what he was watching, Kleef dropped into a crouch and paused to study them-only to have the figures glance in his direction, then vanish as quickly as they had appeared.

When the agate on Watcher's crossguard remained dark, Kleef decided that whatever the creatures were, they weren't Shadovar. He started forward again and began to make out Malik's complaints.

"... almost killed me," the little man was whispering. "As it is, I can barely draw a breath."

"It's your own fault," Arietta hissed back. "You're the one who pushed me."

Pushed?

Kleef felt his stomach clench. He could not imagine why Malik would want to push Arietta off a cliff, but there was no doubting what he had just overheard-not with the pair holding weapons and facing off. Kleef stepped into the clearing and pointed Watcher at Malik.

"Throw down your sword," he ordered. "And stand away."

Malik looked in Kleef's direction, then his eyes bulged and he turned to flee. Giving the little man no time to use his ability to vanish, Kleef leaped after him.

"Kleef, wait," Arietta whispered. "Don't hurt-"

Kleef ignored the order and caught Malik by the wrist of his weapon hand. "Drop it, you worm."

When Malik shifted the sword to his other hand, Kleef lifted him into the air and heard a joint pop.

"Last chance," Kleef warned. He gave Malik a little shake. "Drop the sword."

"Stop!" Malik's voice was pained, but he continued to hold onto his sword. "You've broken my arm!"

Kleef doubted it was true, but the complaint was enough to make Arietta lay a hand on his arm.

"Stop," she ordered. "We still need him in one piece."

"A man can walk with a broken arm," Kleef said. "Right, Malik?"

Malik squirmed in Kleef's grasp, trying to swing his body around so he could bring his short sword to bear. Kleef brought Watcher's blade around to guard himself-and heard a female voice call out from near the base of the cliff.

"Kleef, no!"

Kleef glanced over to find Joelle stepping out of the undergrowth, Arietta's bow slung across her shoulders. She was still breathing hard from the long climb down the cliff, but that did not prevent her from rushing to protect Malik.

"You can't kill him," Joelle said. She took the sword from Malik's hand. "You can't even hurt him."

Kleef frowned. Joelle was the one who had told him that Malik and Arietta had fallen into the forest, just before she slipped over the parapet to climb down the cliff face. But she had not said anything about Arietta being pushed-and she did not seem all that surprised to find Kleef ready to lop off an arm.

After a moment, Kleef said, "You knew."

"That Malik pushed her?" Joelle hesitated, then reluctantly nodded. "I thought it was possible."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"I was afraid of how you would react." Joelle waved at Malik's still-dangling form. "Apparently, I was right about that. Besides, I couldn't be sure of what I had seen."

"Because this is all a tragic mistake," Malik said, quick to seize on her doubt. "The shades were coming, and there was nowhere else to go. I was only trying to save her."

Kleef looked to Arietta for a denial, but she was studying the gloom-shrouded forest around them, clearly more interested in keeping watch than anything Malik had said. He turned back to find Joelle rolling her eyes at the little man's latest lie.

"I was right behind you, Malik," she said. "The shades were nowhere near when you went over."

Malik's gaze flickered away. "Perhaps not," he allowed. "But the oaf and his n.o.ble lady are a threat to the Eye. You saw how they worked together to steal it from me."

"First you're saving Arietta's life, then you're protecting the Eye?" Kleef demanded. He was beginning to understand why Joelle had wanted to protect Malik from his wrath-because he could feel himself growing angrier by the moment. He shook his head in disgust, then turned to Arietta and Joelle. "Under Helm's Law, a man who attempts murder can be cast out or have a hand taken. Let's pick one and be done with it before the shades show up again."

"What?" Malik cried. "I need my hand to protect the Eye!"

"I can carry the Eye," Kleef said. He was still holding Malik up by the wrist.

Joelle shook her head. "Not for long," she said. "And even if you could, you're not a Chosen of Myrkul. When the time comes, how will you retrieve the Eye from the Fugue Plane?"

Kleef had no answer for that, of course. He hadn't even realized that was where the Eye went when Malik slipped it into his robe.

"And that would suggest we can't cast him out, either," Arietta said. She took Malik's sword from Joelle, then stepped close to the little man. "I can only imagine you attacked me because of some of the things that have pa.s.sed between us on the trail. For that, you have my regrets."

A look of triumph came to Malik's face. "Did I not warn you to watch your tongue?"

Arietta's eyes grew cold. "And I shall," she said. "But if you attack me again, I'll have Kleef cut out your tongue and feed it to you. Do you understand?"

Malik's face clouded with anger, but he reluctantly nodded. "Good." Arietta returned Malik's sword and motioned for Kleef to put him down. Then she turned toward the heart of the forest. "Because someone is trying to get our attention."

At first, Kleef saw nothing but gloom. Then, as he grew accustomed to looking into the darkness, he realized there were dozens of silhouettes ahead, standing in the undergrowth without trying to hide. They had the same curled horns as the figures he had glimpsed earlier, but now he could also see that they had large, heavy legs that seemed to bend backward at the knees.

"Satyrs!" Joelle gasped. "What a welcome surprise."

She started forward, until Kleef caught her by the arm.

"You know them?" he asked.

"Not by name," Joelle said. "But we'll be fine. Satyrs are special to Sune."

As she spoke, a tall satyr in the center of the clan stepped forward, then abruptly turned away and vanished into the gloom. The rest remained where they were, the dark silhouettes of their heads turned as though they were watching the four humans.

A moment later, the tall satyr returned and approached to within ten paces of the companions. Kleef could see now that he had a thin, rugged face with a tuft of beard on his chin. He carried a long, curved bow, and on his belt he wore a short, thick-bladed sword.

Joelle smiled and stepped forward to greet him.

The satyr quickly turned away, then ran a few steps in the opposite direction and paused to look back.

"He seems to want us to follow him," Arietta whispered.

"Then let's do it," Joelle said.

Before Kleef could object, both women started after the satyr. "That cannot be good," Malik said.

"It'll be worse if we lose sight of them." Kleef grabbed Malik's arm and shoved him forward. "You first."

They had taken no more than three steps before a distant crashing reverberated through the trees-no doubt an orc mob entering the Chondalwood in pursuit of Kleef and his companions. The satyrs turned toward the sound and started to string bows, then moved off one at a time, vanishing into the gloom as silently as they had appeared.

Kleef could only a.s.sume the tribe was rushing off to defend the Chondalwood from the Eye's pursuers. But were they also trying to protect Joelle and her companions? It seemed as hard to believe as a treant breaking his fall from the cliff top, yet there seemed no other explanation for the satyrs' behavior-especially the behavior of the tall one, who was clearly leading them deeper into the forest.

Kleef and Malik continued to follow, stumbling and staggering through the darkness as they tried to keep Arietta's blonde hair in sight. Malik maintained a constant litany of complaints, whining about the pain in his injured arm-even though he never shied away from using that same arm to break a fall. Kleef did his best to ignore the mewling and watch for shades, though the latter seemed impossible in so much gloom.

After a few minutes, a distant thudding rumbled through the forest, growing steadily louder and closer. Then the ground began to shudder. Their pace slowed, and Kleef and Malik came up behind Arietta and Joelle just as their satyr guide stopped entirely, his arms spread wide to hold everyone behind him.

Moonlight danced down through the leaf canopy, and Kleef saw the looming pillars of tree trunks crossing in front of them.

Treants, on the march.

As the last one pa.s.sed, he turned his pale eyes toward the satyr. He groaned something in a voice barely audible above his booming footfalls, then shook a leafy bough behind him. The satyr dipped his head in acknowledgment and, motioning for the companions to follow, angled off in the direction from which the treants had come.

A hundred steps later, the ground grew soft and spongy beneath their feet. The satyr spoke in a wispy language Kleef did not recognize, and a narrow band of soft green light arose from the mossy ground beneath their feet. The light extended for perhaps ten paces-just enough distance to reveal that they had entered a narrow forest corridor that ran through a thick stand of hawthorn trees.

And, just where the light ran out, the corridor ended in a tangled wall of th.o.r.n.y branches.

"Trap!"

Kleef reached past Arietta, grabbing for the satyr's shoulder-and met Joelle spinning around to push him back.

"I wouldn't do that," she warned. "Satyrs hold a grudge."