Thornwyn Mossbrook's Arc

Chapter 24 of 38

The trees held their quiet after the chimera was gone. Thornwyn sat against the piebald deer's shoulder and listened. Her thigh throbbed under the packed moss. Her staff was gone with the girl. Without it she could not shape a ward or lift a root. She had a knife and a fire burned down to coals. The two riders would come back with more, and she had nothing to slow them. She looked at the deer. His patchwork coat was streaked with dried blood. His long tail lay flat in the dirt. His breath came in short pulls. He turned one eye to her and did not move his head. "I sent your work west with them," she said. "I have one more thing to ask." She dragged herself around to face him. The moss on her leg pulled and wept. She put both hands on his neck where the fur was still clean. "Not guard," she said. "Go. West. Follow the chimera's track. Reach the girl before dark." His ear twitched. He had been bound to the ground where she lay. Binding words held until she spoke new ones. She leaned close and spoke into his fur. She named the girl. She named the elf. She unmade the command she had given him and gave him a new one. Find them. Stay with them. Do not turn back for her voice. The deer tried to rise. His front legs shook. He got his chest up and stopped. He tried again and got his hind up under him and stood. He swayed. He steadied. "Go," Thornwyn said. He walked. Slow. One hoof and then another, testing the ground. He did not look back. His long tail dragged a line through the leaves. She watched the white patches of his flank until the trunks took him. She was alone. No staff. No deer. No chimera. No cast. She dragged herself to the fire and pulled a burning branch from the coals. She banked the rest with dirt so the smoke would drop. She pushed leaves and needles into a low mound between two roots and lay down behind it, the branch smoldering under her hand. She would not slow them with magic. She would not slow them with the deer. She had traded the last of her defense for the girl's chance to reach the trees thinning westward. She heard hooves then. Far. North. More than two. She closed her hand around the knife and pressed her cheek to the cold ground and waited. She had bought the girl distance. She had spent everything to buy it. What came for her now would find her with nothing left to give.