Destiny's Star Elizabeth Vaughan

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.The rip in the sky exploded with light, and disappeared.“Muwap! Muwap!” The gurtles around her exploded into action.Gurtles feared what they did not know, and once feared, all they knew was “away,” as fast as their hooves could carry them.Gilla grabbed at the nearest rack and struggled to stay upright as the gurtles bolted by her, bleating their warnings and running straight through camp.Cries arose from the tents behind her, but Gilla did not glance that way.She kept her eyes on where the enemy had fallen, and warbled a cry to summon warriors to face this threat.She waited as the last of the gurtles ran past, then drew her dagger and started forward.The young grasses were already springing back as she moved, their flowers torn and shredded by the gurtles’ hooves.She got low, taking what cover she could, and crawled toward the enemy, the hilt of her dagger in her hand, the blade pressed to her forearm.She’d worn her armor this morning, as a warrior should, and her blade was sharp and ready.Her heart beat faster as she moved closer.The horse staggered to its feet, shaking its head.It was huge, a big roan, and wearing armor the like of which she’d never seen, although she recognized the saddle and saddlebags.The animal stood there, its legs splayed out, head low, as if exhausted.Amazing that it hadn’t broken a leg in the fall.Gilla watched for a moment, then eased the grasses back in front of her face, keeping a careful eye on the horse.There’d be others coming, but she wanted to be able to report the danger.She needed to see.Her blood singing in her ears, she slowly raised her head.Two people were sprawled in the grass.The one with the armor.Gilla winced at the sight of that one’s leg.Twisted like that, it had to be broken.The other figure stirred, groaned, and sat up, his hand raised to his head.He was hurt as well, but there was no blood that Gilla could see.No armor, no weapons, either.He saw the other person and cried out something, then crawled over to remove the helmet.Bright blond hair spilled out, and Gilla could see the still, slack face of a woman.The man grew distraught as he examined her, and raised his head to look around.Gilla sucked in a breath as his bright green eyes stared directly into her brown ones.EZREN Silvertongue awoke to pain.A dull pain, as if his entire body had been wrung out like a cloth.It hurt to breathe, hurt to move.He had known beatings in the time he had been enslaved, and thought he had learned every manner of ways that a body could hurt.He had been wrong.Ezren concentrated on breathing for a moment, keeping his eyes closed.He was conscious of the sweet smell of grass crushed beneath him, warm sun, and a gentle spring breeze on his skin.Which was wrong.He was not sure exactly why, but it should be cold.A rasping purr and a wet nose in his ear made him jerk upright.Lord of Light, that hurt.He wrapped an arm around his stomach and groaned.But the next breath was easier, and the next after that.The hideous cat from the barn, the one that had attached itself to Bethral’s warhorse, sat next to him.With its mottled coat of black, brown, yellow, and a kind of green, it almost blended into the shadows in the grass.Its watery yellow eyes stared at him unwaveringly.Accusingly.Ezren frowned, staring back.Last he recalled, he had been in the kitchens of the Castle of Edenrich, being presented with a bill for damages at the Flying Pig Tavern.He had taken it up, and gone to confront the miscreants, but now.He looked out on nothing but grass and wildflowers, as far as the eye could see.Wide blue sky that stretched from horizon to horizon and filled his vision.His heart skipped a beat at the sight.He had never felt so exposed as at this moment; one man in an ocean of grass.He looked down, trying to steady himself.The cat stirred, and slipped into the grass.Ezren watched it go, and then lifted his eyes and saw—Bethral, sprawled on the ground like a broken doll.“Bethral.” He lurched onto his knees and crawled to her side, ignoring the rough grass that cut his hands and the pain that lanced through his bones.She was still as death, and pale, so pale, under her helmet.He fell at her side, and pressed his fingers to her neck.Please, Lady of Laughter, let her not be dead.She lived.Her heart still beat.Relief flooded through Ezren as he fumbled with the chinstrap, then eased the helm from her head.Bright gold hair spilled out, covering the ground and his hands with its silken glory.Lady of Laughter, she was lovely.He had called her an angel once, one of the Angels of the Light, come to escort him to paradise.He had thought himself dead at that time, and had opened his eyes to find himself in a small hut with an angel at his bedside.He had never called her that again, unable, unwilling to try to place any claim upon her.But in all truth she was glorious to look on.Her lovely face, and those bright blue eyes.Eyes now closed, in a face pale and still.Crumpled, broken, her leg twisted.Ezren swallowed hard, and looked out at the emptiness around him in bleak despair.And straight into the startled brown eyes of a young girl hiding in the tall grass.GILLA lowered her head and started to scrabble back fast, crawling away from the man.She was so stupid, to be seen like that.She’d—A firm hand grasped her ankle, and Gilla froze.The hand squeezed once, and Gilla breathed again.She looked back and saw Urte’s calm face.Relief washed over her.Urte was an elder.She’d know what to do.Urte crawled forward, followed by Helfers, his dark face so serious.Both in leather armor, armed and grim.Relief flooded through her.Helfers was also a strong warrior, his skill with a sword well known.They came up on either side of Gilla, until their heads were level.“Report,” Urte whispered [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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