Keyes, Greg - Kingdoms of Thorn and Bone 01 by Keyes Greg

Author:Keyes, Greg
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

The greffyn seemed in no hurry to finish him. Aspar ran as if in a nightmare, his feet cloying to the ground.

If he could only escape the greffyn and find his bow, he might have a chance to save Winna.

He clung to that thought, to keep him going, to keep his heart pumping blood and his legs moving. He didn’t look back, but he could hear the greffyn behind him now, hissing along through the grass. Enjoying the chase, perhaps, like the cat it resembled.

He knew where he was, now, anyway. In his madness, he had gone farther along the canyon wall. Ahead he could see the Briar King’s weird, living barrow. If he could reach it, the greffyn might not be able to squeeze through the narrow opening. And his bow was in there.

He ran on, but his legs called a halt, and his body left his feet behind. With dull surprise, he found his face pressed into the earth.

He managed to roll over, with the dirk held up.

The greffyn was there, looking down at him with saucer-size eyes.

Aspar’s other hand strayed to his belt, and found his ax.

The greffyn came a step closer and lowered its head. It sniffed at him. It clacked its jaws, then came even closer and sniffed again.

"Just a little closer," Aspar said, gripping his ax. "Come on, what are you waiting for?"

But it sniffed once more, and then drew back.

Aspar didn’t know what that meant, but he took the opportunity to regain his feet. He turned and continued on, staggering often, but the greffyn didn’t follow.

Its gaze did, however, the sweet, hot sickness that he had known three times already. It wasn’t as bad, this time. Maybe the medicine Mother Gastya had done to cure him back in Rewn Aluth was still working. Maybe that was why the greffyn hadn’t wanted to touch him.

Whatever the case, two arrow wounds and the greffyn’s deadly gaze proved finally too much. He fell into the tall grass and slept, and dreamt foul Black Marys.

He awoke smeared with his own vomit. His wounds were no longer bleeding, but they were throbbing and red, and felt hellishly hot.

He got up anyway, thinking of Winna in Fend’s hands. He started a small fire and plucked out the remaining arrow, then seared out the wounds with a glowing coal. He pressed the paste Mother Gastya had given him into the cauterized holes and bound them with scraps of his shirt.

The night came and went before he could manage to stagger more than a few yards at a time, but the sun seemed to bring him new strength, and he grimly rose to search for Fend, and his men, and Winna. Most of all, Winna.

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