Page 68 of Tusks & Saddles
“What?!” Beatrix eyes widened.
That explained why Welborn hadn’t warned her of the Sand Slither’s approach. His eyes were already trained on the one thathad been following directly behind them. Most Giant Slithers weren’t pack animals so why were there more than one?
“How many dust trails do you see?”
“I—” Welborn’s voice dropped as the horse took a sharp leap over a cluster of dried tumbleweeds.
“How many?!”
“Four!” he shouted.
Four.
Shit.
That meant if Beatrix tried to take a shot, she would have to make it count. There would only be room for two corrections if she missed.Bad Companywas a powerful weapon in her hands, but even the firearm came with limitations. She would most likely have to—
“Wait, wait! There’s two more!”
“What in the Dauntless Verity—”
“There!”
Welborn pointed, arm outstretched to the right. Sure enough, there were two large dust trails approaching them from an angle. The subtle vibration of the earth was beginning to grow with every hoof fall of the horse.
“Now would be a great time to ask your god for some aid, Welborn!” Beatrix shouted with a tinge of urgency.
“Okay, okay, okay!”
Beatrix hadn’t been lying when she had told Welborn that they had to trust each other. Trust was a fine line between life and death in the Wastelands. A thin bit of string that Beatrix was entrusting to Welborn. If things got really bad, she had a back-up plan. Except Beatrix would have to give over the reins to the horse, something she was not willing to do as she was the better rider. They desperately needed the aid of distance. Whatever miracles Welborn had up his sleeve, he needed to do itnow.
Welborn shifted behind her, body swaying as he lifted a hand from her. She was worried he may fall, but he firmly encircled her waist before lifting his other hand off her hip. If he were to fall, at least he wouldn’t go alone.
Can’t lose him, won’t lose him.
The air was already filled with dust, but something electric made Beatrix’s hair stand on end. It was the familiar spark of magic that her father had always told her to be mindful of. She couldn’t see what Welborn was doing, but as she urged the horse forward, Beatrix knew she trusted him. Trusted that he could handle the very large problem behind them.
All six of them.
That same current of magic was being gathered by the cleric, energy pulsating just behind Beatrix’s shoulder. All magic had a tangible sense to it—even to non-casters like herself. That feeling of something being just slightly off but not being able to place it was a good indicator of such. However, Welborn’s magic was vastly different from the arcanists and sorcerers she had encountered. Whether it was the divine source or just a peculiar element of the man himself, she couldn’t say. Whatever it was, Beatrix welcomed it as the spellwork made her ears ring.
The crack that broke through the sound in her ears made the horse neigh in fright. It was as if a bolt of lightening had struck them, but there was no pain, no fire came to set them ablaze. For a moment, Beatrix wasn’t certain what happened until Welborn let out a whoop of triumph.
“Holy shit. Holy shit!”
“What? What’s happening?”
“I did it! I did it!”
He sounded gleeful, the way Beatrix had felt the first time she had successfully shot an apple off her brother’s head. Only it had been with a sling shot and notBad Company. Mother would have scolded her for ages for playing with firearms at that age. Father, on the other hand, would have approved under the proper tutors.
“Did what?!”
“I—it’s something I was reading about while I was in Port—”
“Just spit it out!”
“I banished it, Miss Eaves!”
