Foundation of Courage (Shadow of the Dragons Book 1), page 26
“I am not dreadful!” Lady Petrification snarled in annoyance, green flames blazing over Vounée’s body.
“She didn’t like that, huh?” Euddán asked, grinning. “Doesn’t like that we’re going to beat her.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Vounée said.
As they headed down the trail, Vounée grew hopeful. They were almost out of the Echo Mountains. The reverberations were growing less and less common. She hummed to herself. Keeping closer to the cliff face, she followed Euddán confident they would remove Lady Petrification from her soul.
The charismatic hounds barked as Tshar Ruan stood where Vounée and Euddán had camped. It had taken her three hours to descend from above. It had been deceptive how many ridges she had to cross, but she had found their campsite.
The coals were still warm.
The dogs sniffed around. They seemed to have gotten Vounée’s scent again. That was hopeful. They were becoming more and more useful again. She watched them moving around while she pulled out her canteen and the small tin. She filled it up with enough water so the needle could float. It swiveled for a moment and pointed nearly due east.
She smiled and put it away. She refilled her waterskin then they tramped across the ford. The trail split almost immediately. Her hounds began sniffing around. They still whimpered, shaking heads. The occasional echo reached her ears. She studied the ground. The dirt was too hard packed to take footprints. To the left, it ran north and then bent to the east. To the right, it went south as far as she could see.
Three hounds trotted down the south trail and two the north. She frowned. “Still not in agreement?”
One whined, shaking his head, the blue afterglow of his spiritual head chasing it.
Tshar Ruan sighed.
She went north, taking the left branch. Vounée was to the east of her, and this was the trail that would take her in that direction. So far, her compass hadn’t failed her, so why would it now? The hounds were still too unreliable.
She jogged down the trail and rounded the corner. The roar of falling water grew. The trail bent to the south a tad then turned onto a canyon that split the land here. A waterfall tumbled before her, the trail running beneath an outcropping of stone. Wet mist spilled over her as it crashed down into the canyon far below where it formed a deep pool. From it, a river flowed east.
She led her hounds beneath the outcropping, the deafening growl of the waterfall hammering her ears. She emerged with water dripping from her hair, every bit of her damp. Fresh frost coated the lead blade of her glacial glaive.
She jogged down the trail. She had to catch up to her prey. She followed the canyon for a half-hour and then paused to check the compass. Vounée was still ahead of her and a bit to the right. She frowned at that and peered ahead. The canyon seemed to run mostly straight, but it was curving. The gray face, riven with black veins, had a meander to it, weaving back and forth. There could be a spur jutting out she just wasn’t seeing.
Then she noticed a trail ran on the other side of the canyon. It was a large gap. A good-sized sheep paddock could fit in between the two halves of the canyon. She rolled her shoulders, hating this itch that had formed, and kept on jogging.
They were ahead of her.
They had to be.
She didn’t dump the water. She merely capped the tin and clutched it in her hand. Some liquid escaped out the sides, but she didn’t care. A quarter of an hour later, she checked the bearing again. Vounée was still mostly in front of her, but just to the right.
I have to be on their trail. They are trying to get out of the mountains. Why would they have possibly gone south where the trail had branched?
She pressed on, her legs stretching to a run. Worry mounted in her. The fear that she had made a mistake, and it would cost her finding them. That galled her. She couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. She had to be perfect.
Fifteen minutes later, she checked again.
The compass pointed more to the right.
She could no longer swallow her doubts. Vounée and Euddán were on the other side of the canyon. She bit her lip, studying the other trail. The compass was clearly pointing across the wide gap to it.
I must be closing in on them, she thought. That’s why the compass is pointing more and more to the right. Should I backtrack?
She was already over a half-hour down this trail. She would lose another hour or more, and she wasn’t quite sure how they’d gotten to the other side. It must involve the south trail, but if she’d missed the way . . .
There has to be a way over to the other side eventually. This canyon can’t run forever. The slopes will become manageable. I will be able to get at them then.
She put the compass away and jogged on, her long legs stretching out before her. The sun shone down on top of her head. Sweat gleamed on her red-brown brow. Her yellow eyes flicked from the trail before her to the other side of the canyon and back again.
Over and over until . . .
She spotted movement. A young woman with blue hair vanished around a bend in the canyon. Hope surged in Tshar Ruan. She broke into a full run, boots smacking on the trail. She had found her quarry again. Now she just needed to figure out how to get to the other side.
Her dogs bayed as they loped after her.
Euddán frowned as he heard something echoing through the canyon. It sounded like . . .
“Hattuna’s poisoned teats,” he cursed, throwing a look over his shoulder. “Those are dogs, Vounée!”
“What?” she gasped in alarm. “Tshar Ruan? She’s found us?” For a heartbeat, admiration flickered across Vounée’s face before her fear swallowed it. “What do we do?”
“We fight,” Euddán said, his back stiffening. “I have the sword and . . .” His words trailed off. A smile spread on his lips.
Tshar Ruan appeared, running down the trail on the other side of the canyon. Five of the strange hounds bounded behind her, the blue of their other heads flashing when they darted into shadows. The running woman slowed as she came abreast to Euddán and Vounée, separated from them by the canyon.
Euddán burst into laughter.
“Euddán!” Vounée gasped. “What are you doing?”
“She’s on . . . the wrong . . . side . . .” he said between his guffaws. He couldn’t help it, his mirth echoing over the canyon.
Tshar Ruan stopped and stared at them, her black hair tumbling in a tangled mess. She looked more travel stained than Euddán did. She held her enchanted glaive in her right hand, but Euddán wasn’t scared.
He had Stone Defender.
He waved to her.
“Euddán!” groaned Vounée.
“How’s it going, Tshar Ruan?” he shouted. “Sunny day, isn’t it?”
“Now how did you two get over there?” she asked.
“Carefully! We took a running leap and cleared the chasm. I think you can make it.”
Tshar Ruan slammed the butt of her glaive on the earth. Her frustration sent more laughter from Euddán. He shook his head and then turned to strut down the trail. She had made the mistake that Brother Big Nose had warned Euddán and Vounée about.
“Good luck getting to us,” said Euddán as he walked away, Vounée hurrying behind him. “It was nice seeing you, Tshar Ruan.”
“Don’t provoke her,” Vounée hissed. “And move faster. She can still backtrack.”
“Yep. It’ll take her the rest of the day to get here,” Euddán said and broke into a longer stride as they followed the canyon around another bend. “Hopefully, she’ll think she can get to us by going straight. That’ll waste more time. So let’s keep her attention. Wave to her next time we see her.”
There was something in Euddán’s confidence that worried Tshar Ruan.
She gazed down her trail. They are on that side for a reason. They must have been given directions by the monks. Is this side a dead end?
She gazed back the way she had come and realized that it must have taken the pair several hours to get to the other side of the canyon. She would waste the rest of the day trying to find what paths they had taken.
But Euddán had given her an idea.
She smiled and was glad for his suggestion. She pulled out her spellbook and turned the pages fast. Tshar Ruan was so close, her mouth salivating to capture Vounée. She would end this today. Delight burst inside of her when she stopped on the spell.
This was perfect.
41
Despite Euddán’s assurance that keeping Tshar Ruan distracted was the right decision, Vounée couldn’t stave off her fear. It simmered in her stomach like she’d eaten spoiled meat the blowflies had crawled over. She clutched at her belly and kept glancing across the canyon to spot their hunter.
“She’s not continuing down the other side,” she muttered. “You shouldn’t have taunted her. She’s backtracking.”
“It’s fine,” Euddán said. “We’ll be nearly out of the mountains by the time she gets to this side. We’ll get into civilization. Blend in. And she won’t. How many Saongese are on this side of the world? Not that many.”
“Still . . .” Vounée rolled her shoulders. “Let’s go faster. We can jog the rest of the day.”
“Yeah, sure,” Euddán said and broke into a jog.
Vounée followed, her skirts rustling about her ankles. She glanced over her shoulder, looking to see Tshar Ruan. The woman was relentless. Terrifying and awe-inspiring all at the same time. Lady Petrification brimmed with eagerness, sensing that Tshar Ruan would help her take over Vounée’s body.
That was something that Vounée couldn’t allow. She didn’t want to lose herself. This was her life. She was finally free of her father’s shadow only to stand beneath the dragon’s. Lady Petrification’s presence hovered over her, a dark cloud blocking the sun on a summer day.
A sudden chill falling on the world.
Nettles ran beside Vounée, the thorny cat’s legs flexing. Lumi bounded before Euddán, whose hand rested on the pommel of his sword. Stone Defender. A lost artifact. It had to turn the tide. How could Tshar Ruan stand up against that and Euddán’s strength?
How could she withstand his Foundation sorcery?
Yet the fear gnawed at Vounée’s stomach. She kept glancing over her shoulder as they jogged down the trail. Vounée kept thinking she would see Tshar Ruan on their side of the canyon. That would be insane, but . . .
“We should run,” she said, her boots thudding on the ground. Her backpack bounced with her motion, shifting the straps on her shoulders. “Euddán.”
“And tire ourselves out faster?” Euddán asked. “That’s the mistake I made, remember?”
She couldn’t deny the irony of her being the one urging them to move faster, but Tshar Ruan frightened Vounée. She glanced over her shoulder, wishing she could still see the woman. With Tshar Ruan out of sight, her stomach churned worse. The woman was resourceful. Dangerous. They had to flee from her. Escape.
“You’ll never escape her, Vounée,” Lady Petrification whispered. “You’re just causing yourself so much pain and anguish. All this fear you’re carrying . . . Don’t you want to let down your burden? Let me soothe the fear away.”
“Noooooo!” she snarled at the voice.
Euddán glanced back at her. “We’re going to get away, Vounée. I promise you.”
Triumph blazed through Tshar Ruan as she found the spell in her book. She had used it on the ship traveling up the Blighted Woods to attack those damned bloated insects. She refreshed her mind on the words and geometry. It was the reason wizards had spellbooks. Your memory was never good enough to recall it with the precision you needed.
Memory was like clay. Moldable.
Yes, if she used a spell every day, she would have no problem recalling the ways she had to shape the energy and speak the words, but a spell she hadn’t cast in a week, even a Foundation spell, she had to rely on her notes. Reading refreshed her mind.
Excitement suffused her.
Today, she would kill Euddán and capture Vounée. The world would be restored. The pain and suffering to come would be regrettable, a tragic necessity to free humans, shrubmen, drakekind, and even the wyrms from the tyranny of the gods. From the lies told by those who won the Dragon Wars three thousand years ago. She smiled and closed her book.
It was a simple spell to cast. She poured Foundation energy into her legs, hands moving with powerful and confident motions to fill the arcane construct. Her hounds paced around her, ignored. She wouldn’t need them for this next part.
This was a dangerous spell to use over and over again. It stressed the body out immensely. But she only needed to use it once. Her legs grew stronger, her muscles strengthened and empowered beyond what the human body was meant for. She violated natural law.
She would miss wizardry, but it was built on the pain and suffering of the innocent.
She opened her eyes and grabbed her glacial glaive from where she had leaned it against the cliff face. Euddán and Vounée had vanished. She pressed herself against the rock wall to give herself as much space to run as possible. She stared across the canyon.
At the gap she had to clear.
If she jumped too far, she would slam into the black-veined rock wall and bounce off. Maybe she’d land on the trail. More likely, she’d plummet to her death in the canyon below. She had an idea to deal with that, but it was by no means a certainty she would survive.
And if she jumped too short . . .
She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Risks and sacrifices had to be made. A calm fell on her. A zealous belief in her mission. The Apostasy would restore the world to what it was meant to be.
She charged forward in a burst of speed. She took four steps and leaped.
Her black hair streamed behind her as she soared over the gap. Her shirt ruffled and even her wool pants rippled from the speed of her passage. She gripped her glaive as the deep plummet passed beneath her. She reached the arc of her magic-enhanced jump and then hurtled down. She stared at the trail. For one mad moment, she didn’t know if she would make it.
She had never felt more alive.
She landed with bent knees. Pain burst in the soles of her feet and the joints of her knees. She sprang up and stumbled towards the cliff wall. She thrust her left arm out to brace herself, palm smacking on the gray stone with a stinging impact. She sucked in great lungfuls of air as the exhilaration rippled through her.
Should have adjusted the spell to protect the knees, whispered through her mind as she groaned at the pain sizzling in her joints.
But that didn’t matter. She had made it.
Ruan wanted to scream out her success. She had cleared the huge gap. Now she was only minutes behind Vounée and Euddán. They had nowhere to go. No avenues of escape. This ended today.
“. . . today . . .”
Tshar Ruan charged down the trail, streams of cold bleeding off the lead blade of her enchanted glaive.
Unease itched at Euddán’s shoulders.
I have the sword, he kept telling himself.
“. . . sword . . .”
He gripped the pommel as he jogged down the path. A pace that ate distance without pushing either of them too hard. It would take Tshar Ruan hours to backtrack to find her way to this side of the cliff. Hours for them to get away. By then, they would be out of this canyon. They just had to stay ahead of her. Get into civilization.
Lose her in the bustle of Doforá.
From there, they would find a ship. Get across the Winding Steps. Reach Vumaidinhu. Once they’d arrived at the Blessed Lake, Vounée would be safe. He kept telling himself that. Over and over again.
At Vumaidinhu, she’ll be cured.
“. . . cured . . .”
Still, the fear itched at him. Tshar Ruan had caught up with them. All the effort he put into running and running and running hadn’t given them much of a lead. Nearly killing himself hadn’t been enough. But he had the sword. The sword had to make the difference.
It would make the difference.
Magic swords always did. It had helped Ishéen Stonetooth in the Dragon Wars. It would help Euddán today. He felt like he was all those mighty heroes from the Dragon Wars, called to defend the innocent. Ishéen Stonetooth, Sir Shunz Copperhammer who slew the Lord Radiance, Tshan of the Crystal Waters and her Midnight Spear, Eimza, Thorned Byuuud, Rhiim Draketongue, and Shaubhadz the Red Comet wielding Starfall Ax. Euddán would join their ranks by stopping Lady Petrification from possessing Vounée.
She won’t get you, Vounée!
“. . . Vounée . . .”
The wind shifted, blowing at his back and ruffling his black hair. Lumi, racing before him, paused. She turned her head and stared back at him, the edges of her form bleeding off into glowing mist. He slid to a stop. Vounée gasped behind him.
“Euddán?”
He turned and looked back down the trail past her. He had heard . . . something. Just for a moment. What was it? Vounée stepped up before him, a stray lock of her blue hair, escaped from her braid, dancing along her tan cheek. She trembled, her eyes wide.
“What?” she asked.
“I don’t . . .” His words trailed off. Did I hear footsteps?
“. . . footsteps . . .” his thought echoed.
Vounée stiffened. She scooped up Nettles into her arms and stared back at the path. A rhythmic sound thudded louder and louder. Euddán’s stomach sank. Someone ran down the trail. Somehow, Tshar Ruan had caught up to them.
“Run!” he shouted as he drew Stone Defender.
The granite armor sprang over his body. Gauntlets and vambraces of rock covered his hands and arms. Pauldrons, sabatons, greaves, cuisses, fauld, and the breastplate and backplate armored his body. The stone clad him in protection, his defense that he wore with ease. Foundation poured through his body, strengthening limbs while cold excitement spilled through his veins. Every hair on his body stood on end.
