Rasnake(32)

Where the hell was Milton? Wasting precious energy, Tallant reached into the bond, across it, feeling out Milton—and realized that Milton was unconscious, and in pain. Damn it. Tallant moved closer to Cecil, so that his mouth just barely brushed Cecil's ear as he murmured, "He attacked them, knocked them both out, left Milton and took her. What shall we do?"

Cecil shifted, whispered in thieves' cant to his wolves. After a couple of minutes, the wolves slunk out of the forest and crept toward Marden, soundless shadows stalking their prey. Cecil shifted, clearly meaning to speak in Tallant's ear—but instead they wound up face to face, mouths only breaths apart. "Wait for Bite and Raze," Cecil said, and Tallant would bet all he owned that Cecil was red-faced. The situation was dire, and he should not be so amused, but he was anyway. "After they attack, we'll rush in. Get Irene out, I'll deal with His Grace."

"All right," Tallant, and brushed a soft kiss across Cecil's mouth. "Be safe, kel."

"Now is not the time for nonsense!" Cecil hissed.

"Calling you lover and wishing for your safety isn't nonsense," Tallant replied, but relented and pulled away. Cecil pointedly turned away from him, and they watched the wolves in silence as they struck, snarling as they launched themselves at Marden, growling and biting. Marden roared in surprise, then cried out in pain, fighting to get free, trying to run in all directions at once, obviously trying to use magic but too scared and in pain—

He fell, dropping Irene. Almost as one, Cecil and Tallant sprang from the trees and ran full tilt toward Marden and Irene. As they drew close, Tallant shouted in warning, "Light!" He gathered his magic and tossed it out, into the air, and brilliant, blinding light flared high in the sky, illuminating the immediate surroundings as clearly as daylight. Marden cried out in pain, blinded, and then Cecil was upon him.

Tallant left him to it, focusing solely on scooping up Irene and bolting back to the safety of the trees. He heard shouting, growling, but did not stop, simply trusted Cecil to do his part and focused on his own. Once safely in the woods, he settled Irene beneath a large tree and called up a smaller, softer light. He sighed in relief as she proved to have nothing more severe than a bump on her head.

Rising, he drew his sword and raced back to the field to help Cecil. Bu as Tallant reached him, just in time to catch Cecil, a terrible roar split the night. The wolves snarled and growled—then abruptly howled, calling for help as a large, dark-scaled dragon broke from the trees on the far side of the obelisk. "Shit," Tallant swore.

"Run," Cecil said, grabbing Tallant's arm and dragging him back, away. "We aren't equipped for a night fight with a fire-breather. Come on."

Tallant went, but couldn't resist sending up another burst of light for better to see what proved to be a nightmare, as Marden strove to get away, but proved too slow, too exhausted, too wounded. Tallant did not look away, but he badly wanted to, as he watched the dragon snatch up Marden in its massive jaws and bit down hard.

Cecil made a strangled, pained noise, and his fingers bit painfully where they still held fast to Tallant's arm. Tallant tugged him close, burying Cecil's head against his chest, whispering soft words of reassurance and comfort.

The dragon dropped its victim and roared in triumph—then screamed in pain as an arrow pierced its sac, and as suddenly as that, the night exploded into chaos. Torches, men, arrows, shouting, screaming, barking. Tallant and Cecil rushed to join the fray, Tallant casting all the light he could, then pouring the rest of his magic into the fight itself. He grinned as he saw and felt Milton, and then there was simply no time to do anything but act.

How much time passed, Tallant did not know, but when the dragon finally screamed its last, night was taking on the gray haze of morning. He wiped sweat and blood from his face, then sheathed his sword. Everyone seemed wounded, but none seriously, thank the fates. Only Marden…

Marden, or what remained of him, just barely lay along the obelisk. Tallant bolted toward the obelisk before he gave himself a chance to think about what he was going to do, heart pounding in his chest as he reached them. He pulled what was left of Marden's body up onto the obelisk completely, smearing as much of it as he possibly could with Marden's blood. He placed his own hands on the obelisk and the body, trembling as the heavy magic began to pulse through him.

Not knowing what else to do, he closed his eyes and simply tried to pour his wants and will into the obelisk. He screamed as it all suddenly went from nothing to far too much, the magic flooding his mind, his body. Hot. Dizzy. He couldn't see. Couldn't think. Couldn't breathe.

Then, mercifully, everything went black.





~~*





"Tallant!"

He grunted, tried to shift, and instantly regretted moving. It was dark, but was that right? Why couldn't he see? Tallant realized his eyes were closed. Mentally rolling his eyes at himself, he dragged his eyes open and stared up at Cecil. "What?" he croaked, and wondered why his throat hurt so damned much. Why did Cecil look so pale, so scared?

"You're a fucking jaske!" Cecil snarled, trembling with anger—but also with fear.

Only then did Tallant realize that he was lying on the ground, and that his head must be in Cecil's lap. "That's not very nice," he said, only belatedly noting the slur Cecil had used. "My mother is irritating, but she's a respectable woman."