Darkborn (Shattering of the Nocturnai Book 4) by Carrie Summers

Author:Carrie Summers [Summers, Carrie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lonely Crag Press
Published: 2017-03-20T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

THE WOMAN’S HAIR was ratted. Dirt smudged her face. But beneath the filth, I recognized her. The cleaver in her hand confirmed it. Weeks ago, I’d known her as the head cook aboard the Evaeni. She wore ratty sandals, the soles woven from dried seagrass, strapped on by ragged strips of leather. As she advanced, the shoes folded under her toes, catching on sharp ridges of rock. I cringed. Any moment, she’d trip and go flying over the edge. Not that that would be terrible, seeing as she was attacking me.

But any deaths would only add to Mieshk’s power. Rotating the wooden handle of the rock hammer in my hands, I stepped to put my back to the wall and examined her for weaknesses. I needed to disable not kill her. It was critical.

With a shriek, the woman sprang. One of her shoes flapped when she left the ground, folding when she came down. She went down on a knee but turned the motion into a desperate scramble, beastlike toward me.

I raised my leg to kick her in the shoulder, maybe knock an arm out and send her sprawling. But she was faster than I expected and with a howl, wrapped grubby hands around my ankle. As I tried to shake her free, she yanked my leg and sank her teeth into my shin.

“Ow!” I yelled, kicking hard enough to dislodge her.

The cook landed on her butt and elbows and snarled, wide-eyed. Behind me, the rope leading from my anchor across the face snapped tight. People were shouting on the other ledge. I ignored them and kept my eyes on my attacker. She scuttled like a crab over to a boulder and used it to help herself up.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said. We were more than a thousand paces from Mieshk’s fortress. Her compulsion didn’t hold here. I just had to convince the cook that we meant her no harm.

At my words, her face screwed up in a mask of despair followed by rage. And then, her face stilled, looking almost dead. With uncanny calm, she stood and unstrapped the sandals from her feet. I recovered from my surprise at her sudden transformation. This was my opening. I jumped, hammer raised high. A blow to the head would knock her unconscious without killing her, provided I aimed it right.

I focused on her temple as I flew through the air, but suddenly a hard band jerked across my hips, stopping me short. I fell on my knees and hands, and the hammer skittered toward the edge of the pedestal, stopping just a hand’s width from the edge.

The woman laughed though her face remained as emotionless as before. Maybe she’d gone insane from so long suffering under Mieshk. Still stunned by the sudden loss of momentum, I patted my hips. Of course. The harness. When I’d tied the rope to the anchor, I’d given myself just an arm's length of slack to move around.

As the woman stood straight and hefted her cleaver, I back-stepped and pulled Tyrak from his sheath.

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