"The Dragon Isles Chapter 07 Grey" by Katherine Bates

“Duck!”

Tehal stooped just as a blade whistled over her head. Her mind was a blur as to how the sword had come into Marn’s possession; all she knew was that it was useful.

She staggered slightly as someone fired a bolt against her mind. Faster than any material one, it struck with surgical accuracy. She threw back a shot as hard as she could, but another struck her from the right, if there was a right and left anymore, breaking her concentration. She turned her mind, desperately trying to combat her attackers.

There seemed to be so many of them, their presences hazy and distant, but crowding her in, surrounding her. She needed a way out; but there was no place to ‘move’ in her mind.

She closed her eyes, knowing in her heart that she had to be aware of the material world as well and shouldn’t be doing this. The hazy blurs became sharper, features forming in the grey mist; she struck out at the nearest and span, feeling a ripple touch her skin. A mental bolt sped towards her and she ducked, and saw it sail harmlessly past. She stared, looked down at her hand. She knew she hadn’t moved, but still she had and here was her hand, solid and real, yet her eyes were closed.

The moment she had to think was gone and she turned without thought, defending herself with ease. Again and again she struck at her attackers, spinning on point as a dancer to avoid their arsenal; all the time feeling that she must be dreaming, this should not be possible.

Thunder boomed in her ears and a shiver ran through her mental body, momentarily taking down her defences. The bolts came at her from all around, leaving no time to react. The fear rose inside her and her inner eyes closed.

Silence.

Stillness.

She opened her inner eyes. The bolts had gone, as had the misty figures that she had seen; there was nothing but the perfect stillness of clean water. It sloshed gently around her feet whilst she stayed dry. Her inner eyes closed again and she swayed, soothed.

Tehal’s mental body dropped to the floor, hair spilling out in a black wave. Her hair stopped but the black kept on going, and going, drifting out into eternity.

“Tehal?” Marn lowered her to the floor as she started to twitch, “Tehal! Wake up!”

The sword in his left hand was slick with blood and Marn suddenly felt sickened by the sight of it. To kill like that, knowing what he was doing. How could he have done it?

The sky split with lighting and thunder rumbled over the darkening sky. Tehal shook violently and then fell still, head lolling backwards. Marn glanced around, hearing the Temple Guards rushing about in the forest nearby; they had to move quickly.

The scars on his face began to itch and he put a hand to his mouth. A dog’s bark made him realise that the argul would also be hunting them. For a moment he stared at the thick, red blood on his hand, knowing that at any moment an argul could come out of the undergrowth at them.

Realising that Tehal wasn’t going to get up, he lifted her, cradling her in both arms. He shook his hair of the excess water and started running.

The arguls howled, the sound mixing with the thunder. Marn ran faster, hearing his heart pound, the scars on his face turning white hot.

A figure leapt at them from the trees and Marn skidded round, only just holding his balance. Not even pausing for a glance, he ran again, charging blindly through the trees, turning again and again from blockades, dodging attacks, no longer knowing which way he was going.

He turned his head to look behind and fell forwards, feet seeming to trip over themselves. He fell though space for what seemed an age, and when he hit the ground it was hard and unforgiving. An elbow struck his jaw and his head lolled, eyes rolling. He slipped across the ground, tumbling down and stopped with a dull splash into cold water. Dimly he aware of Tehal lying next to him, mouth and nose just below the water line, and then she slipped away, sinking under the surface.

He struggled to stay awake, forcing his limbs to move. The arguls howled above them, but came no closer, and the thought gave him strength. Fighting against the current he pushed himself through the water.

Something was wrong with his right leg, it wouldn’t move properly. A shot of pain froze the muscles for a moment, making him choke as an unexpected mouthful of water slid down his throat. He pushed through the pain, struggling to reach Tehal.

He dragged her to the bank and lay in the mud, panting hard. His ankle was sore and when he looked down he saw that it bruised badly and there was deep cut just above his boot.

A dog howled and Marn looked up. A grey cloaked man stood at the top of a steep drop on the other side, accompanied by a scruffy grey dog. Marn thought about calling out for help, but something held him back, something in the man’s eyes terrified him. The dog howled again and then rushed away, closely followed by the man.

His scars were still itching, and Marn realised that argul scars must react to the proximity of arguls. He searched through his bag, grateful for the magic that kept it dry. He treated his ankle as best he could and pushed himself to his feet, heaving Tehal up.

It was difficult to put weight on his ankle, but not impossible, he could do it to save his, and Tehal’s, life.