Concord 4 - The Jaws of Menx - Ann Maxwell by Elizabeth Lowell

Author:Elizabeth Lowell
Language: bg
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-05-14T17:36:05+00:00

The sound of a flyer slicing through the thin atmosphere woke Rhane. For an instant he thought he was back on Siol, waiting at the shuttleport. Then pain came to him and he remembered. He shook his head. The pain was like the flyer’s scream.

The next time Rhane woke it was to ice water dripping slowly down his face. He tried to open his eyes, but could not. He moved, then cried out in pain. He remembered, and tried to raise his knife but could not.

“Don’t move yet,” said a voice, dry and hoarse yet somehow familiar.

“Shiya?” His own voice was a croak, unrecognizable.

“Yes.”

Rhane tried to look toward the voice, but his eyes would not open. Turning his head brought a white stab of agony.

“Be still,” said Shiya curtly.

Shiya’s hands moved over him, probing deftly, causing no more pain than was necessary in her search for major injuries. She found none. With a muttered phrase of thanksgiving, she turned her attention to his bloody face.

“I can’t see,” said Rhane.

“Wait. I think it’s just blood crusted over your eyelids.”

Rhane felt a wet cloth across his eyes. Gently, patiently, Shiya washed away the caked blood.

“Open your eyes.”

Rhane blinked. Light the color of blood flooded his senses. For a moment he thought his sight had been damaged, then he realized that it was sunset.

“Can you see?” asked Shiya anxiously.

Rhane glanced around. The first thing he focused on was the green-wrapped child. He reached out toward the blanket, only to withdraw at Shiya’s single word.

“Dead.”

“Dead?” said Rhane, still dazed. He remembered the rending terror that was cut off and the bottomless peace that had followed. “Why?”

“They couldn’t control her.” Shiya swore with a coldness that was more shocking than any hot anger. “There was no right, no serat necessity. The shazir know that. Her murderer will die in the Jaws of Menx.”

Rhane remembered another scream that had ended too soon. “Jul?”

“Dead. Her throat was slit.”

Rhane closed his eyes, afraid of seeing too much. “Lor Jastre?”

“He drugged us and then he ran,” said Shiya bitterly.

“He had no reason,” began Rhane, then stopped at the sound of Shiya’s anger.

“He did not want you to go into the Jaws! You wouldn’t listen!” Shiya laughed again, a sound as bitter as the wind. “Well, you won’t be going through the pass now.”

“No, nor Lor Jastre. Jul’s dead.”

“What’s a latlik to a T’aeln master?”

“By the Silent God, Shiya, think what you’re saying! The child, too, was murdered!”

“The latlik meant more to him than any ‘mongrel child.’” Shiya’s lips twisted over for Jastre’s words.

Rhane made a sweeping negative gesture. “I don’t believe it. We must look for him. He could be in the rocks, hurt, dying. Even dead. And then all of Menx would answer.”

Shiya’s smile made Rhane uncomfortable. “The reskans are tracking him. If he is here, they’ll find him.”

“Where else would he be?” asked Rhane, impatient with her hints and hatred.

“I heard a flyer,” was Shiya’s only answer.

“It was the sound of pain, no more,” said Rhane harshly.

Slowly, Rhane tried to sit up.

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