The Faerie Lord by Brennan Herbie

Author:Brennan, Herbie [Brennan, Herbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Adventure, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Young Adult, Romance, Magic, Urban Fantasy
ISBN: 159990120X
Amazon: B001O2SDGQ
Barnesnoble: B001O2SDGQ
Goodreads: 650883
Publisher: Bloomsbury
Published: 2007-12-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifty Six

The ground beneath Henry’s feet was rough as he ran; he couldn’t see more than a yard or two ahead. In normal circumstances, he would never have tried to run in a situation like this. In normal circumstances if he had tried he’d have stumbled. But he was encouraged by the howling behind him – and by the speed at which the white shapes were gaining. Henry ran fast.

The faster he ran, the clearer his mind became. He knew he was about to die. There was no way he could outrun the vaettirs, no way he could survive so many of them when they finally caught up. But, oddly, the realisation caused no fear. In fact, the dread he’d felt earlier had been replaced by calm. He found himself thinking about his mother and Charlie and school and his exams. He found himself thinking of Blue and what a mess he’d made of their relationship. He found himself wondering how he’d gone through so much of his life not knowing what he really wanted, let alone how to get it. It seemed he’d been pushed around by his mother for years and pushed around by circumstances when he wasn’t being pushed around by his mother. He’d spent so much time trying to do the right thing, but mostly what he thought of as the right thing was just the thing that other people wanted him to do. He’d never liked upsetting people, so usually he just went along. He wished Mr Fogarty were still alive. Mr Fogarty had somehow managed to do the right thing without giving a toss about how much that upset other people. Mr Fogarty robbed banks for cripe’s sake, when he thought it was the right thing to do.

Now he was about to die, Henry suspected he might have wasted his entire life.

Except maybe he wasn’t about to die after all. He wasn’t quite sure, but the pursuing vaettirs seemed to be dropping back a little. Maybe they were like cheetahs -very fast in short bursts, but not much stamina. If he could just keep up his pace he might outrun them.

With his new-found clarity, he realised this made sense. Lorquin might be weird, but he was a decent kid. He’d hardly ask Henry – his Companion – to commit virtual suicide just so he could become a man. There might be risk – people who lived in the desert were used to that – but it probably wasn’t much of a risk, however dangerous it looked. After all, it was Lorquin who had to prove himself a man. For Henry there was probably hardly any risk at all. All he had to do was keep up a steady pace and wait for the vaettirs to get tired and …

The earth convulsed.

Henry lost his stride, then his footing, then his balance. He hurled forward and struck the ground, hard. He was on a mix of rock and desert that hurt his injured leg and filled his mouth with sand, but he hardly noticed either.

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