s [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

men in mourning. One knelt next to his fallen comrade, face turned down but palms to the sky.
 He s praying, she whispered.
Marek followed her gaze.  To Xenia, the death goddess.
 Look. She pointed to a pair of soldiers who were studying the tracks of their horse.  Maybe they ll
think we went back to Tiros.
One of the soldiers called over several more, and they all headed into the ravine, fully armed, following
what must be fresh footprints. Marek cursed and pulled Rhia to her feet. They ran.
The trail twisted and narrowed as it climbed the hill, which provided no caves or crevices for shelter.
They rounded the corner of a large red rock wall, and the trail suddenly shrank to a narrow ledge. Rhia
skidded, nearly slipping over the edge of the cliff. Marek grabbed her around the waist. Panting, she
peered into an enclosed ravine at least twenty feet deep.
 Careful. He stepped sideways along the ledge, his back to the cliff.  Don t look down.
Rhia heard voices on the trail behind them. She took a deep breath and followed Marek, keeping her
eyes on him and the other edge of the ravine, where the trail widened.
She reached the other side and gave a heavy exhale. Marek took her hand.
They rushed around the next bend, and her heart sank.
A dead end.
Marek swept aside the branches of a thick bush.  Get down.
 There s no room for you.
 Doesn t matter. He pushed her, gently but firmly, inside the shrub.  Whatever happens, don t make a
sound.
She shook her head.  You can use your Fox camouflage.
 If I hide, they ll find you. They ve seen our footprints. They know there are two of us.
 Then what good does it do me to hide?
 So you ll be out of the way while I kill them. He put his fingers to her lips.  They won t take me alive.
She clutched his hand and held back a sob.  Don t do this.
Marek kissed her softly.  I love you.
He stood, unstrapped the bow from his back and moved the hunting knife in his boot to the back of his
waistband.
Rhia shrank back into the brush and waited.
With a rush of feet and clanging swords, the Descendants appeared. She heard the wooden squeak of a
bow stretched taut.
 Get out, Marek snarled to them.  This is your one warning.
 Throw down your weapon! one of the soldiers yelled.
A snap, then a whistle, and someone gave a strangled yelp.
 That was your one warning, Marek said.
Someone shouted the order to charge. Marek s bow snapped again and again, but Rhia heard only the
thump of arrows hitting shields as the soldiers advanced.
He backed up until his feet were next to the bush where Rhia hid. The soldiers were almost upon him.
She wouldn t let them take him from her again.
Just as she was preparing to leap out and shove his attackers into thin air, one of Marek s heels slipped.
He backpedaled, kicking up dust and small stones, then tumbled over the edge of the ravine. His scream
lengthened and faded, cut off by a sickening thud.
Her heart slammed to a halt. No sound came from below.
No. He couldn t be dead. Not Marek.
She clutched her hair and held in her shriek, longing to hurl herself over the edge, to join Marek forever
on the Other Side. Her heart demanded it, but her legs remained frozen in place, the weight of the silence
crushing her into the hard, cold earth.
Rhia opened her eyes. The silence.
She listened with the depths of her soul, but heard no wings. Crow wasn t coming.
Marek was alive.
 Is he dead? one of the soldiers said.
 You two, go find out, said another with a commanding voice.  If he s alive, he ll have information.
 Sergeant, there s no way down except jumping off the edge ourselves.
A pair of feet came close to the bush, boot toes brushing the bottom leaves.  The tracks stop here.
The branches swept back, and Rhia stared up at the face of a blue-eyed soldier.
 Look what I found. He gave her a satisfied smile, then grasped her under the armpits and yanked her
from the bush. He dragged her to the edge of the ridge and dumped her on her knees.
 No! she shrieked when she saw Marek lying sprawled on the rocks below. He looked so lifeless, she
didn t have to fake her fear.
She spit on the boots of the closest Descendants.  Murderers!
Another man seized her braid and yanked her head back.  How do you know he s dead? His voice
belonged to the one they d called  Sergeant.
She tugged the crow feather out of the front of her shirt.  I hear Him fly. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]