Page 164 of Witchshadow
Soon, Stix caught up to Kahina, now standing before a jagged doorway sliced into the limestone. It was one of only a few passages remaining into the Sightwitch mountain, though it was half destroyed. Blue light hummed around it. Nearby, Ryber shuffled her cards absently, watching Stix approach with a sympathetic slant to her brow. She never missed anything; Stix sometimes wished she would.
Fortunately, Ryber said nothing as she tucked away her cards. “Ready?” she asked, and at Stix’s and Kahina’s nods, she dipped low and stepped through. Static frizzed over Stix’s skin. Ryber disappeared.
Kahina went next, pipe still puffing even as she ducked through and her smoke winked away. Then it was only Stix who remained, Stix still lingering. All she wanted to do was run—sprint right back to Vivia and say,I’m so sorry I left. I’ll never go again.But that wasn’t her path. Not yet, at least.
There was work to be done. The rest of the Six were waiting for her, and strange as it was, she missed these people she didn’t really know. They were old family with Threads still bound to hers..
Yet before Stix could scrabble through the canted doorway, a familiar purr crooned over the jungle’s choir. Moments later, a furry cat rubbed against her calf.
And Stix laughed as she peered down at the six-fingered tabby. “I don’t know how you always find me.” She hefted up the creature. “But I’ll admit I’m glad to see you.” Then she hugged the tabby close, and murmured: “Though we cannot always see the blessing in the loss, strength is the gift of our Lady Baile, and she will never abandon us.”
Together, Stix and the familiar six-fingered tabby entered the Sightwitch mountain.
FIFTY-SIX
The prince awoke to a dog howling. He couldn’t say how he recognized the sound; he’d never had a dog, and they had been rare in the Nihar lands. With so many human mouths to feed, the only animals worth keeping had been livestock.
Yet somehow Merikknewas soon as he came into blurry consciousness that a tiny hound called for him. The sound scratched against his eardrums, part whimper, part wail. Sharp and hungry and alone. He wanted it to end as soon as he heard it.
With monumental effort, Merik forced open his eyelids. Cold scraped against the flesh. Ice whispered against his pupils. Then they were wide. Then he couldsee.Blue, blue, brilliant, glowing blue. No end, no beginning…
Except for that shadow.
No, three shadows, he realized the longer he stared. Two that were vaguely human, though small and lithe. And the final shadow that was the source of all that whining—a massive mound, far too large to be a puppy, yet keening like one all the same.
“She needs a master,” the taller of the humanlike shadows declared. She had to yell to be heard, and her voice was high and melodic.A child,Merik thought at the same time he realized the language she used: old Arithuanian. He’d never actually heard it spoken aloud before.
“She needs a master,” the girl repeated. Then the second shadow piped up: “And Sirmaya says that for now, it’ll have to be you.” She laughed, the delighted sound of a child feeling genuine pleasure, and for the first time since Merik’s awakening, the puppy’s cries faded to silence. Its shadowy form shifted. Then unfurled, stretching into a creature far larger than the two girls—and larger than Merik too.
“You’ll have to hurry,” the first girl said. “Because the ice is hungry, and if you don’t break free, it will eat the baby. But you can do it, Wind King. I saw it, and so it will be.”
“However,” the second girl inserted, “there’s one thing you have to do once you’re free: you have to find our father. Right, Lizzie?”
A shadowy nod. “Sirmaya tells me he’s in Poznin right now. He calls himself the Raider King, though I don’t believe it’s a name he gave himself. Find him and help him,” she added, no begging in her childish voice. Only command. “His goal is a noble one, if misguided in the end. Now come along, Cora. We have work to do.” She grasped at the smaller girl. Then together they turned, and together they left, vanishing shadows soon absorbed by blue.
Which left only the puppy still waiting nearby. It was whining again and beneath its shrill cries, a crunching, crackling sound tore out. It vibrated through the ice, juddered Merik’s whole body, and through the blue that clouded his eyes, he glimpsed frozen shards bursting up from the floor.
The child had been right: if he didn’t hurry, the ice would eat the puppy just as it had eaten him.
The puppy’s whines turned to screams, and without thought, Merik found himself fighting. Punching and kicking and calling to winds in a tomb made of ice. With each howl of canine pain, he clawed. With each wail, he slashed with tiny razors of wind. Until he too was howling and wailing and screaming, like the puppy being ripped apart.
Then abruptly he and his magic were free. One moment, the ice still imprisoned Merik. The next, he was erupting forth on a thousand vicious winds. Each of the winds was so small it was insignificant, but when corralled together, they had become a cyclone.
He toppled forward, his winds razing outward to crush any ice that chained the puppy down. Yet as he collapsed to the frozen floor, he saw it was no puppy at all—at least not in the traditional sense.
It was a storm hound.
And now, free of the ice, she stumbled toward him on long, loping legs. Floppy and golden-furred, her wings dragging and her tail wagging hesitantly. Then she was to Merik and nuzzling against him, bleating like a babe who’d lost her mom.
She needs a master,the strange girl had said. And then the second girl had added,And Sirmaya says that for now, it will have to be you.
“All right,” Merik rasped, his first words in what might have been only hours or might have been centuries. “Let’s leave this tomb and return to life.” As he clambered to unsteady feet, the storm hound helped him rise with all the enthusiasm of a puppy excited to play. And as he shuffled toward thetomb’s narrow exit, she galloped ahead, all memories of her near death forgotten. All fear of the ice erased.
Merik glanced back only once before trudging after her. Three empty holes now rested, gouged into the ice. One had been Merik’s. The other two, he presumed, had belonged to the strange little girls. The fourth and final hole remained filled with shadow.
“I’ll be back for you, Kull,” Merik said. “Come floods or hell-waters, I’ll be back for you.” Then he turned away, tugged at his ice-shredded cuffs, and followed the storm hound into a nautilus-shaped hallway beyond.
Aurora, he decided. He would call her Aurora.
