Wind Rider by P. C. Cast

Author:P. C. Cast
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

CHAPTER 16

PRESENT DAY—TRIBE OF THE TREES

“My Lord! I present to you Dax and his Lynx, Mihos.” Thaddeus bowed to the God and then stepped aside so that the Lynx Companion got his first full view of Death.

To his credit, the Lynx man’s only sign of shock was that the color drained from his face. His Lynx stayed close to his side, yellow eyes fixed on the God. Dax bowed deeply, following Iron Fist’s example.

“My Lord, I come in answer to your signal beacon.”

“Ten days! It has been ten days since the signal fire was lit calling for a guide from your people.” Death faced the Lynx Companion, who had been led to the platform in the tree that the God rarely left.

“I apologize for the delay, but spring is a busy time, my Lord,” Dax said after he took several steps back, looking startled and out of sorts. The fur on his Lynx’s back lifted, though the big male feline remained eerily silent. “Mihos and I came to you as soon as we completed our previous job.”

Ralina felt sorry for Dax, whom she knew because he was one of the older mercenaries who had been hired by the Tribe several times over the past decade. She’d been called to the God’s platform to witness this next chapter in Death’s obscene conquest of the Tribe, and she sat in her usual shadowy corner of the platform, with Bear lying behind her while she attempted to shield him from Death’s too curious gaze. But this evening Death only had eyes for Dax—and was more interested in His plan to flee the poisoned forest for the untainted lands of the Wind Riders than He was about obsessing over male Shepherds.

Death’s attitude shifted instantly, as His mercurial temperament was wont to do. Ralina’s stomach clenched. She knew His smile always foretold something terrible.

“Ah, I have been too passionate. Dax and Mihos, you are welcome here, among my People. Please, sit.” Death gestured to the floor of the platform in front of Him, and after only a slight hesitation, Dax sat, Mihos at his side.

Death was, of course, the only person on the platform allowed a chair. He’d had an enormous, water-whitened log dragged up to the platform for Him. Its bleached white roots reminded Ralina of the skeleton of a throne. On it the young women who were Death’s Attendants kept a pallet of pelts so that He could recline in comfort while everyone else either stood or was forced to sit at His feet.

Just looking at Him sickened Ralina.

“I do understand how frustrating it is to wait for a guide,” Dax said.

It seemed to Ralina that the Lynx man was doing his best to recover quickly from what must have been a terrible shock at being brought into what he had to have thought was a normal job for Sol and the prosperous Tribe of the Trees. Finding the city decimated, the Tribe either poisoned and dying or healthy and mutated, and Skin

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