Thornwyn Mossbrook's Arc

Chapter 20 of 38

Thornwyn opened her eyes. The fire had burned lower. The elf was sitting back against a stone with his hand pressed to his thigh. The girl still held her fingers. The piebald deer had not moved from her ribs. The chimera stood at the edge of the light, ears turned north. She could not stand. She had tested it once when she woke. Her leg took no weight. Her arms shook lifting the cup. She could not cast a ward. She could not even walk the boundary to set one. The riders would come and find them beside a fire in a shelter with no door. "Help me sit up," she said. The elf slid an arm under her shoulders. The girl braced her side. Thornwyn got upright against the stone. Her vision went dark and came back. "I cannot cast," she said. "Not tonight. Not from the ground." The elf did not argue. He watched her mouth. "The deer," she said. "He can hold a line if I bind him to it. He did it at the cottage door." "He is torn open," the elf said. "He is still breathing." Thornwyn put her palm on the piebald's neck. The long tail flicked once against her knee. She spoke the binding words she had used before, low, six of them, and pressed her thumb behind his ear on the last. The deer's eyes did not close. He rose. He stood on three good legs and one that trembled. He walked to the north edge of the firelight and lay down across the gap between two trees. "That is one side," she said. "Not four." She turned her face to the chimera. The staghound shape of him, antlers wide, wolf in the shoulders, bear in the haunches. He had carried her west when she could not steer. She had recalled him once from a mile off. "Come here," she said. The chimera lowered his head to her hand. She spoke the same six words into the fur under his jaw. She did not know if binding would hold on a summoned thing. She pressed anyway. He stepped back. He walked a slow circle around the shelter, past the deer, past the fire, past the elf and the girl, and stopped at the south side. He lay down facing out. Thornwyn let her hand fall. "They will not pass those two," she said. "Not quiet. Not fast. When the riders hit the line, we will hear it. You take the girl into the trees behind us and go. I will hold what I can from here." The elf shook his head once. "I am not leaving you." "You are leaving with her." The girl's grip tightened on Thornwyn's fingers. She did not let go. North of the ridge, a horse screamed. The deer was on his feet.