When Ravens Call: The Fourth Book in the Small Gods Epic Fantasy Series (The Books of the Small Gods by Bruce Blake (books under 200 pages txt) 📗

The leader—Jud-dah called him Birk, he recalled—pushed his way between the others to stand beside the prisoner and his captors. In response, the man twisted against the grip of the two holding him to look back over his shoulder at what usurped their attention.

The rain pelting against the glistening wall spattered bright patterns, then rolled along its surface as though it had struck a window. Behind the barrier, the woman—his companion in the barn and on their journey, the person who'd given him the ability to understand the world—knelt on hands and knees. She raised her head, cocked it to one side, listening.

"Howdshee geto verthar?" the fellow called Birk said in the gibberish the man hoped he'd never experience again.

None of the others responded. He wasn't sure Birk expected any of them to answer, but neither did Ailyssa act as though she'd heard. He leaned toward the green divide, pulling against the two robed men's grasp. They held firm, but his closer proximity to the wall allowed the nameless man to glimpse her between the spider webs of lightning cast by the rain hitting it.

It wasn't Birk she attempted to listen to, but the black-haired creature stalking toward her.

Its thick mane bristled and its yellow-white teeth stood out in stark contrast to its dark fur. The snarled mouth may have meant a growl emanated deep in its chest but, if it did, only Ailyssa and the beast's own ears detected it. It crept closer to her as she moved her head, sightlessly attempting to locate the predator.

His gut knotted, and he tugged hard against his captors' grasp, trying to free himself, though he didn't know what he'd do if he succeeded. She couldn't hear him if he yelled, couldn't see him any more than she saw the shaggy black beast. And the shimmering veil kept him from reaching her side.

How did she get over there?

The thought popped into his head, swallowed right away by swirling emotions. The two robed men held him fast, and Birk stepped up beside them, his face a hand's breadth from the wall.

"Gidub," he yelled. "Gidub anrun."

Again, Ailyssa made no sign the words found her ears. The urge to call out and warn her dropped the nameless man's mouth open, but no sound emerged. He realized the futility in trying. Despite having understood and being able to speak when in contact with the woman, his mind failed him as to what he'd say. Likely nothing more than a grunt.

The beast took one slow step after another, creeping through the brush toward its prey. She tensed, the cords in her neck prominent. It appeared the urge to flee gripped her body, hardening her muscles, but her lack of sight kept her in place like a plant rooted to the ground. Her nostrils flared as the animal moved close enough for her to detect its odor.

The nameless man imagined how it must smell: musty and musky, a mixture of damp fur and carrion breath. As much as he wished for her to run away and save herself, another part of him hoped for the beast to finish her quickly, minimize her pain. How awful for her to kneel in this strange place, helpless and awaiting her death at the fangs and claws of a fearful brute.

Less than the length of an arm separated the animal from the woman, the threat so palpable even Birk watched. The nameless man's jaw gyrated, grinding his teeth together, but he couldn't stop himself. His tongue pressed hard against the roof of his mouth, his hands curled into fists.

Ailyssa flinched with the waft of the beast's exhalation on her face. Her expression contorted, twisting with strain and fear. The nameless man held his breath, wanted to look anywhere else. Rain ran from his hair into his eyes, and he blinked it away, unable to remove his gaze from Ailyssa's impending death.

But the animal halted as though the aroma it detected did not lend itself to feeding. It got no closer, nor did it retreat. Ailyssa continued her prolonged flinch, recoiling from the hot breath on her cheek.

Time slowed. The rain grew heavier, more and more droplets pounding the green curtain until the near-constant fireworks playing across its surface hid Ailyssa and the beast from sight. He struggled to lean closer, blinked more water from his eyes.

Through the occasional break in the spidery, verdant lightning, he spied his friend raising her arm, reaching toward the animal. Its lips peeled back, exposing the sharp teeth hidden in its maw.

What is she doing?

Her hand neared the beast's mouth, its snarl appearing to continue, deepen.

"No," Birk called out. "Stawpid."

A gust of wind pushed a sheet of rain against the veil, the sudden explosion of gnarled green fingers obliterating his view of them. Raindrops slammed against his back, his captors' black robes snapping and waving. When it subsided enough to see again, it revealed Ailyssa standing, one hand on the animal's head. The beast's lips relaxed, hiding its teeth again, its demeanor noticeably different. Its hackles lay flat, the tension in its muscles diminished. Ailyssa's physical attitude mirrored the creature's, the fear and strain in her face gone.

Birk took a step toward the veil until his nose threatened to brush it. He raised his hand, slammed it against the shimmery wall. Green shot out from the impact, like cracks in thin ice, widening and lengthening as he left it resting upon the surface. Once again, the crawling light hid woman and beast from view. The nameless man wiggled and contorted, trying to peer between the arms of lightning, but to no avail. After a time creeping by at the pace of a snail working its way up a hill, Birk removed his palm, and the fissures dissipated.