The Prophet of Panamindorah - Complete Trilogy by Abigail Hilton

Author:Abigail Hilton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: epic fantasy series, box set, young adult fantasy
Publisher: Pavonine Books
Published: 2010-12-22T16:00:00+00:00

They were moving again in an eighth watch. The wolflings had found enough extra clothing for Chance, and he was no longer shivering. They had given Laylan a sword. We’re going to be alright, thought Laylan. He still wouldn’t allow himself to think of Shyshax.

The wolves hadn’t been trotting for more than a quarter watch when they froze, listening. Then everyone heard it: high yips and howls from behind. The animals began to run.

Laylan noticed the rising grade of the road. Harn-beng. I haven’t been this way in a season.

The wind picked up, lashing the rain across their bodies and driving leaves and small branches in its wake. Thunder rumbled in the distance. At last Laylan heard the rush of water above the beat of the rain. He saw gray sky beyond the trees ahead, and suddenly they burst out onto the brink of a precipice.

The Tiber-wan flowed through a gorge here—a small mountain that rose gradually all the way to old Canisaria and sank again as one approached the cliff. The river had carved itself a low road, deepening the chasm until it lay like a wound on the landscape. The walls of the canyon were steep. At the bottom the river roiled in its narrow cage.

Over this expanse leapt the magnificent arc of Harn-beng: the ancient bridge of the wizards. Two stone dragons arched their heads in the center as if in combat, their noses nearly touching over the bridge, their wing tips reaching almost to either end.

Dance led as they started across, with Enden close on his heels, followed by Xerous’s wolf, Jaunt. Loaded down with two riders, Barbet came last.

A streak of lightning lit the northern sky. Laylan saw the water gushing off the stone on either side of him. Through the pouring rain, he could barely discern the opposite forest. Then he looked back and saw the hounds. They were running onto the bridge. One dog was well ahead of the others. Laylan watched it come. He had seen Anduin hounds only twice in his life. They were a little over half the size of a wolf, leaner, shorter of coat like the desert dogs.

Looking ahead, Laylan saw that the first wolflings had reached the far side. He looked back at the hound and knew he would never outdistance it. His wolf was looking over her shoulder, too. He felt her slowing, tensing for the inevitable battle. Laylan gripped his sword. I will have to stop and kill this one. He was only a little past the center of the bridge when the hound closed the gap and sprang.

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