The Banned and the Banished #02 - Wit'ch Storm by James Clemens

Author:James Clemens [Clemens, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780345417084
Amazon: 0345417089
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 1999-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

extracted two parchment-wrapped packages. She called Elena to her side. “Crush these leaves and berries,” she said, tossing her two tiny packages.

Er’ril realized he would get no further information from Mycelle, not until some attempt was made to revive their companions. “How can I help?” he said.

Mycelle tested the water in the pail with a finger. “See if you can raise Tol’chuk a bit. When I dose him, I don’t want the elixir to drown him.”

Er’ril nodded and slid to the far side of Tol’chuk’s bed. He pulled the blanket lower so he could get to one of the og’re’s arms. He freed the thick limb from the blanket. As Er’ril gripped Tol’chuk’s wrist, he noticed two things: Tol’chuk’s flesh was as cold as a day-old corpse, and the claws of the og’re’s hand clutched a large object in their sharp grip.

Er’ril immediately recognized the glinting object still stubbornly clasped in the sleeping giant’s fist. It was the Heart of his people. Though unconscious and half dragged here, the og’re had never let it drop.

Curious, Er’ril attempted to pry open Tol’chuk’s massive fist; perhaps here lay some clue to what had occurred in the warehouse. It took the strength of all his fingers to drag open a single claw.

“What are you doing?” Mycelle asked sharply.

Er’ril continued to fight the og’re’s grip. “Trying to free Tol’chuk’s heartstone.”

“Why?”

Er’ril glared up at her, swiping away a fall of his black hair from his face. “The stone might give us some clue to the threat we face.” Er’ril went back to freeing the stone. Finally, with sweat on his brow, he pried open the last of the claws. Fully exposed in the og’re’s palm, the facets of the heartstone seemed oddly subdued in the lamplight. Er’ril reached for it.

“Don’t!” Elena suddenly cried. She had stopped crumbling the dried herb and stared at Tol’chuk with a studied expression.

Er’ril’s hand froze. His fingers hovered over the stone.

“What is it, honey?” Mycelle asked, drawing nearer.

“The Heart usually glows with at least a trace of og’re magicks,” she said, waving at the stone. “In the warehouse, as he lay sprawled, I

saw his pouch ablaze with magicks. I guessed it was just the stone! But if he held the Heart in his fist, then it must… must be something else.“ She pointed to his blanket-covered waist. ”Something in his pouch.“

Er’ril pulled his hand back from the stone and grabbed the blanket’s edge. He swept down the woolen covering. The goatskin pouch was still tied around the og’re’s broad thigh. The pouch bulged with something other than its usual sacred object.

Glancing briefly to the others, Er’ril reached for the leather draws. He tugged them open just as something in the pouch suddenly thrashed. Startled, Er’ril yanked away his fingers, accidentally striking the heartstone with the edge of his hand.

As the stone knocked free of the og’re’s palm, the opening of the thigh pouch suddenly burst forth with a sharp brilliance. Blinded for a heartbeat, Er’ril backed a step. He blinked away the dazzle.

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