Tomas Kyriel's Arc

Chapter 7 of 7

The spring lay in a hollow of black rock. Green light poured down its face in a slow waterfall and pooled below, bright as a lantern. Six soldiers stood between Tomas and the water. He had counted them from the ridge. Elara crouched beside him. Between them knelt Reginald, bound and gagged, his bald head slick with sweat. Tomas understood the trap now. He could fight the guards, or he could guard Reginald. He could not do both. If he charged, the old man would crawl free or take a stray blade. Either way, the one voice that could break the curse would be lost. Elara saw it too. "You go for the water," she said. "I hold him." "You can't fight six alone." "I don't have to fight." She drew a quiet breath. "I only have to keep them off you." Reginald grunted behind his gag. His eyes were flat and patient, the way they always were. He was waiting for them to fail. Then the fox came. It slipped from the rocks with no sound, white fur and faint red marks along its side. Tomas had watched it burn Reginald once and steal his voice. Now it walked past the old man and lay down at his feet, calm. It looked at Tomas. It looked at the soldiers. Elara went still. "It's guarding him," she whispered. "It doesn't want him dead either." Tomas made his choice. He drew his sword and ran down the slope. "The fox holds Reginald," he called back. "You come with me." Elara came. The first soldier turned and Elara flicked her hand. His sword tore from his grip and spun into the dark. Tomas took the second man with his shoulder and drove him down. A third swung; Tomas caught the blade on his armor and cut him at the knee. Behind them, the fox sat over Reginald like a stone. The old man did not move. He could not. The animal's marks glowed a low red warning every time he shifted. Elara disarmed two more with a wave. Tomas felled the last. It was over fast. The soldiers lay groaning in the snow, weaponless, beaten. Tomas dragged Reginald down to the pool. The green water hissed and glowed. He forced the old man's face toward the light. "Drink," he said. "Get your voice back." Reginald pressed his lips shut. Tomas pried the gag loose and pushed his head under the shining surface. When he pulled him up, the old man coughed, gasped, and spoke. "You fool," Reginald rasped. His voice was raw but whole. "You should have let me die." Tomas felt his chest go cold. The seal was broken. Reginald could speak again. He could unmake the curse now, with a word. And he had just made it clear he never would.