A Sword from Red Ice

Ash stood in the stirrups and yanked the weight forward— The beast leapt its muscular hind legs propelling its body like springs. Shocked by to speed, she realized her shot had fallen short Hot pun coursed along her shoulder as the weight reached the end of ife tether with momentum to spare. It snapped with a crack— The chain crumpled in the middle as the weight shot back toward her. Ash flicked her wrist with force, sending tension back into the chain and throwing the weight wide of herself and her horse. As she did this she was aware of a series of soft retorts.

Thuc. Thuc. Thuc.

Three arrows were loosed in quick succession. The creature dropped as soon as the first one hit, collapsing into the snow with a dull thud. Its flesh began to hiss as the other two arrows struck the big ridge of muscle on its shoulder. The creature rippled. The outline of its body softened, as if it were somehow losing its form. Air crackled like a sheet of breaking ice. Ash breathed it in and wished she hadn't. It was empty of whatever her lungs required for fuel.

A soft hiss escaped from the creature's gut. All was still for a moment, and then shadow discharged from its carcass in an explosive rolling ring. The shock wave blasted Ash's face and riffled through the fur on her cloak. It was cold in different ways than the snow, coating her skin with the substance of another world. Even as she struggled to make sense of it, the substance smoked away to nothing, tingling as it ceased to exist. It smelled like the thin air-starved atmosphere at the top of mountains.

Shivering, she turned her horse. Lan Fallstar stood on his stallion's stirrups, resting his eared longbow. His chest was pumping rapidly. He had a fourth arrow ready and unused in his hand. He sat back in the saddle as Ash looked on and scooped up the reins from his horse's neck. Slinging the bow over his shoulder, he said to her, "It was foolish to get so close." His voice was low and loose, and she was glad to hear the fear in it. It made her like him better.

"It was a good shot. The first one. Must have been a heart-kill."

His eyes went blank for the briefest moment before he nodded. 'This Sull had a good arrow."

Ash smiled at his modesty. She had traveled with Raif Sevrance: she knew all about the cost and difficulty of heart kills. "Come," she said, drawing abreast of him. "Let's make camp away from this place."

Lan Fallstar returned the unused arrow to its case, and actually allowed Ash to take the lead. The gelding was panting and a bit scuddy around the neck so she spoke soft words to him and set an easy pace. She did not look back at the blasted remains of the creature in the snow.

As soon as they found a place away from the carcass, they set up camp. Ash picked a clearing between the cedars—the towering spruces made her feel too small. She brushed down both horses while Lan built a fire and prepared food. The stallion held itself perfectly still as she combed through its long silky tail. When she was done it delighted her by presenting its right foreleg for inspection. She checked and discovered part of a pine cone wedged under its nail. Using her letting knife, she winkled it out.

When she raised her head, she found Lan Fallstar staring at her through the flames. She smiled, and although he did not smile back she imagined she saw a softening in his face. His skin was deeply golden in the firelight.

He had pitched the wolfskin tent. The sight of it made heat come to Ash's face. Water spilled from her cup as she drank. Fear had left her muscles and tendons humming. As she ate her simple meal of cured horse meat and wafers, she tried to calm herself. She'd felt better with the horses, she realized. Less jumpy.

Lan had heart-killed a creature that had forced its way out of the Blind, and somehow that meant she had misjudged him. It seemed more believable now that he was what he claimed: a Far Rider. Why had she doubted him when he drew the bow? What did she know about Sull and all the ways they had of fighting the Unmade? Mal Naysayer was a giant, solid as a block of granite and terrifying in battle, but she doubted that even he could have disposed of the carrion feeder more efficiently than Lan Fallstar. One arrow, shot at distance. She would not have been able to bring down the creature herself. It was too fast and strong to be held by a chain. It would have dragged her from the back of her horse. A Reach did not have physical power, it seemed. She could track the creatures of the Blind, but not much else.

Briefly she looked north and wondered where the Naysayer rested this night. She would have liked to talk to him just then.

Ash held her hands over the fire, letting its heat warm her palms. The cedar logs were riddled with pitch holes and the flames turned ameythst as they bumed. Snow had stopped falling but ice crystals moved through the air like pollen. Lan Fallstar reached out and took Ash's hands in his. "Come."