Page 49 of Court of Shadows
They traded blows until Khent earned a lucky slash, catching the thing’s sword arm, forcing it back to scream and chant and hold its gushing wound. It was only a temporary victory, as the other two came to retaliate, screaming their chant at us in arising chorus, slashing blindly with the swords.
“Agh!” Khent staggered into me, cut. “The book. Protect the book...”
“I won’t let you die,” I shouted, taking the knife and propping him up.
But they were too strong. The creature Khent had wounded dove again, this time revealing its clawed, hideous talons. It risked flying low enough to duck beneath the stone gate, and crashed into us with so much force my lungs felt as if they would explode. We were being crushed into the stone, Khent scratching and punching at the thing’s back. Then it scrabbled in the dirt at our feet until its talons found the satchel. It released us, mud splashing as it kicked up, satchel clutched in its feet, and climbed high into the air.
“No!” I lurched after it, running, arms flailing as I cried and cried. “No!”
We had come so far! How could we come so far only to lose the book now? A year. A year of evading death and starvation, nations and tribes found and crossed, seas braved, only to stumble and fall with victory in sight. My knees gave out and I fell, defeated, not caring now if those things slashed me to pieces.
Behind me, Khent roared in agony. They were going to kill him.
I stood and decided to face them, for I should rather die defending my friend and on my feet. The creatures had descended, dancing in and out of range of the knife, taking easy, cruelslashes where they could. Khent leaned against the pillar, bleeding badly, and I could see his strength fading as he weakly jabbed with his weapon.
“Leave him alone!” I shouted, throwing myself in front of Khent.
Their huge mouths grinned as they readied their swords, preparing to give the death blow. We all four of us paused, for the sound of humming bees had dimmed with the departure of the monster who had stolen the book. That sound returned, and fast, too fast. I turned just in time to see a ball of white slam into the earth beside us, cratering, a shower of white feathers filling the air.
The book tumbled out of its grasp, abandoned and intact in the mud.
But how? I would not release Khent but ducked us both down as a shadow draped itself over the stone circle. The cry it gave deafened me as it descended, like a hawk the size of a mountain screaming to its hatchlings. Through half-lidded eyes I saw the colossal red-and-black tail flecked with yellow. I saw its clawed hands, its wings the size of clouds, its pointed face, beaked like Horus, a decoration of feathers and scales cresting over its forehead.
Steam rose in sinuous gray ribbons from its nostrils.
The Sky Snake. It stamped the ground, shaking the pillars. Khent’s eyes rolled skyward, and he nudged me, weak but alive.
“The book,” he whispered. “We run. Now.”
I pitched forward, scooping up the book into my arms and putting every last ounce of strength into my legs as we pelted away from the stones and into the wide field beyond. There was no solid earth to run on with the Sky Snake pounding out its anger. I heard the screaming chants and glanced behind, watching as the monsters were flung through the air. The Sky Snake was toying with them now, and snatched up one with its beak, tossing it up before snapping it clean in half, a rain of liquid gold pouring to the sacred stones below.
“I cannot... I cannot go any farther,” Khent wheezed, tumbling to the wet grass and rolling onto his back. The cuts were everywhere. I shrugged off my shawl and began tearing strips off it, binding his wounds as best I could, listening to the stones creak as the Sky Snake slammed one of the monsters into a pillar. It was right of us to run—for the very gate we had been sheltering under collapsed, the cross stone sliding faster and faster until it smashed into the ground, pulverizing the winged thing beneath it.
“I will not leave without you,” I said. “We will find a village and rest until you are healed.”
“Don’t be stupid, that will take too long. You must go on, Bennu, you must take the book north.”
“No!”
That same massive shadow drifted over us again, and I watched through the drizzling rain as the Sky Snake launched into the air again and then coasted across the field toward us,landing lightly, though even that shook the ground like a clap of thunder. It lowered its head, watching us with its intelligent bird eyes, a high chittering chirp vibrating out of its throat.
“Thank you,” I said to the creature. It had come close enough to touch, and carefully, with nervous and shaky fingers, I put my palm on its feathers just above the black beak.
The Sky Snake shook off my hand and craned its long neck, touching the tip of its beak to Khent’s head. It bumped him as gently as it could, then flung its nose backward, gesturing from where we lay to its back.
“I... think it wants us to go with it,” I murmured. “Can you stand?”
Khent groaned and coughed as I got to my feet and urged him up, up, balancing the book satchel under one arm and him with the other. My clothes were stained heavily with his blood, and his eyes drooped as I helped him limp toward the Sky Snake. He put one hand on its scaled and feathered belly, giving a wan, exhausted smile as he patted it in thanks.
“Well, friend, it appears you will be Bennu the Flier after all,” he growled, and climbed onto the great beast’s back. He grew still there, his breath just a weak flutter. Blood soaked into the Sky Snake’s back as Khent stared up at the rainy heavens, dying.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Residents returned to the house. I heard them scratching and scraping outside my door, moving up and down the corridors, back to their usual evening prowls. I picked anxiously at the bandage on my finger. The spider had drawn no more than a drop of blood. The stinging had stopped, but the damn bite itched like mad. It was time to keep my appointment with Croydon Frost, and I could only hope he would leave his nasty little pet somewhere else.
“Go,” I breathed, pressed to the crack in my door, waiting for the Resident outside to grow bored and float away. “Just please, go.”
I hadn’t left myself much time to get down to the pavilion. The Court had been postponed for that evening, giving the shepherd time to look over the translations Mr. Morningside provided. From everything I had heard of courts back home, this one seemed to function much the same—slowly and inefficiently, with constant stops and starts. That suited me just fine. I dreaded the moment I would be called upon to lie or tell the truth.
