First and Last Sorcerer (Noble Dead Saga 3, Book 4)
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This time, Wynn did glance back. The chest now sat on the street, along with the packs Osha had carried. Chane must have sensed something, for anytime those two agreed about anything it meant there would be trouble.
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Osha shrugged his left shoulder, and his bow slipped off and dropped down his arm. Wynn flinched around toward the gate and came face-to-face—or face-to-throat—with the sage in gray. He was tall for a Suman, and both metaologers still flanked him.
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Other than his accent, his Numanese was perfect, and up close it was easier to see his face. He was likely in his mid-sixties, at a guess, and his gray hair was cropped short beneath his cowl.
Dark-toned skin covered a slightly wizened and narrow face with slanted cheekbones. He pressed his hands nervously together, though his expression was unreadable. This is Shade, who is not a common animal and will harm no one. She travels with me for my protection, as do my other two companions. Both were middle-aged, which suggested they each held at least the rank of domin. In the brief silence that followed, she listened for the slightest sound behind her. At this time, you and your companions cannot be accommodated based on recent and unanticipated concerns for security.
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I am sorry you have traveled such a distance, but please seek lodgings elsewhere. Something here was very wrong. The metaologers turned to follow the high premin as the guards spread out to block the way in. Her thoughts raced for something to say that might stall the high premin for an instant. After an instant of confusion, she realized he meant Magiere, Leesil, and Chap, but she had to say something. That was the last topic she wished to raise openly, but it was the only thing she could think of in an instant.
She had to get in there and find the domin. Chane tried to still his mind amid the overriding sense—the stench—of fear emanating from the Suman sages. It was so strong that the beast inside of him, his inner feral nature, strained at its bonds. Fear made the beast hungry for prey, and Chane bit down until his jaws ached.
The high premin spun and fixed on Wynn. For an instant, fear was evident on his lined face.
This vanished as his expression became outwardly cold and measured. The metaologers had also turned, one eyeing Wynn, who retreated a step and bumped into Chane. The other looked over everyone with her, one by one. I wish to pay my respects. It would be rude to come all this way without doing so. Chane had no intention of enlightening him, and instead wondered how Wynn would answer.
Why would you force me to be rude in not doing so? The premin studied her long in silence, perhaps trapped by the cultural manners Wynn intimated. His expression remained flat, though the stench of fear had not lessened. Chane eyed the guards. The two metaologers worried him the most, but if anything happened, Osha could disable at least one while Chane readied to hold off the guards.
In the past, he and Wynn had used this odd ability of his. She would ask questions, and behind her, keeping his thoughts still, he would squeeze her shoulder when the beast grew wary or outright vicious. For whatever reason, his inner nature knew when it heard a lie. But the question—and its answer—had been too broken, mixed, and vague to know which part was the deception. Then he spoke openly to the high premin.
We will find all of you some comfort. The metaologers eyed each other. Both stepped forward, with the woman positioning herself behind the premin and the man to his left. Two guards nearest to each side column stepped forward to the edge of the street. He knew Osha had nocked an arrow and would cripple the left-side metaologer first. He disliked assaulting sages, but there was a hidden danger here, and Wynn came before all else.
Wynn dashed around behind, startling Chane, but he kept his eyes on the high premin. All four guards drew their curved swords. In panic, Chane froze over what to do. He would not hesitate to disable or even kill armed soldiers, most like city guards, but sages were another matter. Chane was about to order everyone to run when that first guard paused while looking beyond him.
He almost turned—and then her staff thrust out around his left side. The long crystal at its top end was unsheathed, and he swore under his breath. With an arrow drawn back, he had shifted his aim to the darkly robed man with a raised hand.
He did not wish to harm a sage, but neither would he allow anyone to harm his Wynn. Osha froze, knowing what would come next but not what to do about it. And too much happened all at once. Chane whirled away as he jerked up his cloak. All four guards drew their swords.https://tilsistbundsabge.ml
One made a rush forward quicker than the others. Shade lunged to intercept the man. He did not understand her words, but he knew what they meant. Brilliant light, like a sudden noon sun, made his eyes sting beneath his eyelids. Amid the sound of running feet, and just before Osha opened his eyes, he heard Chane utter a grating hiss.
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Wynn rushed for the packs nearby as Chane snatched up the chest, and Osha saw Shade ram a startled guard in the chest with her forepaws. That man went down, but. The male sage in dark blue still had a hand raised and outstretched. Unlike the others, that one did not blink his eyes in trying to clear his sight.
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He fixed on the dog. The dog wheeled, racing away after Wynn, as the arrow hit.
Osha spun as Shade raced by him. Only one of the packs he had dropped remained on the street stones. Grabbing its strap, he slung it over his shoulder and ran along the wall after the others. Wynn and Shade ran on ahead with Chane following, the chest in his arms. On his longer legs, Osha knew it would not take long to reach them—but even while carrying the heavy orb, Chane was just as fast.
There was no other choice—he would always put her well-being above all else, no matter what it took. I do not care what happens to the others, but bring her back alive. Glancing back, she saw Osha and Chane closing rapidly on her as Shade sped out ahead.