Lightning branched across the sky, struck the earth, and a water spirit burst out from between two rocks. It rose higher and higher, the watery shape of a serpent with wings. A water dragon. As it reared, it knocked boulders from the top of the ridge, and water gushed over the edges. “One of yours?” Ven asked.
Naelin didn’t answer—she was concentrating.
He saw ice spirits dart at the water dragon, and ice crystallized along its wings. Howling, it stretched, and the ice shattered. He heard the cracks from where he stood. The dragon spirit lunged forward, and water gushed over the ridge. And then Ven realized something else: the camp of humans was in the water spirit’s path.
“Naelin, the children are safest with you,” Ven said. “There’s something I have to do.” He adjusted his grip on the handle of his sword. He bent his knees, trying to convince himself he was still good for one more outnumbered, terrible-odds fight.
“No, Ven! There are too many. I won’t let you!”
“Not your job to protect me.” He kissed her quickly on the cheek.
“You know I can stop you if you make me.”
“There’s a camp full of people down there,” Ven said. “And this time, I’m not too late to save them. I’ve been too late so many times, Naelin. Let me at least try.”
Naelin’s hands were in the air, sketching patterns, and her spirits were obeying her, flying the patterns she sketched, holding back the air and fire spirits. “Fine. Stubborn idiot. I can keep a path clear for a little while, but you have to move fast.”
He didn’t wait to discuss it any further. He leapt forward, bounding across the rocks that shifted beneath him. Slicing his sword at spirits that whisked over him, he ducked, dodged, and ran toward the camp where they’d left the people.
He found it besieged: men, women, and children were running through knee-high water, trying to find a safe path out. “To me!” he called. He sheathed his sword and unhooked his bow. Notching an arrow, he aimed it at a fire spirit that was diving toward an older man. He shot it through the forehead, and the arrow incinerated, but not before the fire spirit reared back.
Ven leapt down into the valley, splashing into the icy water. “Come on, this way, follow the rocks up!” He guided the people into a line. A stream of fire shot over them, and he charged forward, firing another arrow into the cometlike core of light.
Above, the water dragon screamed. It clashed with a host of fire spirits that flew at it. Steam billowed from its body, and Ven lost sight of it. The mist rolled across the camp. “Grab hands!” Ven ordered.
His command was repeated by the people, and he hoped they were obeying—those nearest him were clutching one another, at least. “Follow me!” he called, and he hurried to the front of the line. “Toward the cave! Head for the grave!”
He pointed them in the right direction and then hurried down the line, ensuring there were no stragglers. As he did, an earth spirit burst from the rocks beneath him and grabbed his ankle. Other earth spirits, made of rocks and shaped like small men, burst through the rocks, seizing the legs of people, yanking them down. He drove the butt of his bow into the face of one, knocking it back, and then he leapt between people, whacking spirits with his bow as if it were a staff. As soon as he caught his breath, he reached for his sword. As he sliced, he heard the sound of pebbles, and then a louder rumbling.
“Avalanche!” one of the women cried.
And then it got worse.
Water slammed into them, waist-deep, and people screamed. They grabbed the children, who were crying and shrieking, and lifted them out of the water.
He’d never fought so many on such unstable terrain—the air, the earth, the sky, it was all his enemy. But he wasn’t going to fail these people.
Never again.
Naelin felt as if her mind were fracturing. She knew what she had to do: keep a channel clear until Ven returned with the villagers, and then escape, all together, to Aratay. Her spirits could hold off the untamed spirits long enough... Couldn’t they?
They’ll die,she thought.
She squashed the thought as quickly as she could.
But she was so closely linked to the spirits that they felt her think it. Despair rippled through them, flowing back to her.Don’t leave us,they whispered back to her.Please, don’t leave us to die.
It disturbed her, hearing their pleas. They were killers. Their kind hunted humans. Hated humans. Wanted everyone dead and gone, so they could have their world back the way it was before the Great Mother of Sprits died, before the humans came too soon.Why should I save them?
Spirits like these had killed her parents while she’d huddled, hidden. She’d lived in fear for so many years—
Through her bond, Naelin felt a spirit torn in half, its limbs ripped apart, by an untamed earth spirit, and her knees buckled. She looked up, and there was no more thought about helping the spirits.Herspirits.
Remembering how she’d practiced with the spirits before she left for Semo, she pushed her mind out, forcing them to work together, guiding the ice spirits to freeze the wings of a water dragon. She sent her fire spirits skittering over the ice crystals of ice spirits. Her wind spirits whipped faster, creating a wall of wind on either side of Ven and the people. They were making their way toward her, step by step. She couldn’t tell if he had them all and couldn’t spare the attention to look. An untamed fire spirit was clinging to one of her tree spirits, and she felt its pain as the flames scaled his barklike skin. She directed a water spirit to douse it, freeing it, and she felt a shiver of gratitude as the wounded tree spirit scuttled away as fast as it could.
There were too many of them, though.
Don’t let us die, the spirits whispered.
