Nyphron pointed to Persephone. “Your chieftain is wise. The fane will not stop until your kind is exterminated. This war is winnable, if you’re willing to fight.” He took his seat once more, and all eyes went back to Persephone.
“In the morning we will begin preparations to leave our home and travel to Tirre. There’s nothing left for us here, and the farther we can get from Alon Rhist the safer we will be,” Persephone told them all. “Within the week Clan Rhen marches south.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Rapnagar
As far as I know, Suri was the first of our kind to use the Art. It must have been wonderful to do magic, except when it was not.
—THE BOOK OF BRIN
Bodies were broken in half, collapsed on one another or lying side by side. Hundreds were dead, maybe thousands. Many were strangers; some mere acquaintances; others friends, but a few Suri considered family. The horror was almost too much to bear as she moved through the forest of fallen trees ravaged by the storm. She’d seen storms before, windstorms, ice storms, floods, and fires, but those had always been the will of Wogan—this wasn’t.
And then there was Magda.
Suri and Minna led the way through the decimated forest; they traveled quickly, but Arion managed to keep up, so her headache must have improved. She moved with a nimble, youthful grace that contradicted Arion’s past comments about being old. She seemed anything but elderly. Even without hair, and perhaps because of its absence, Suri thought Arion was the most beautiful person she’d ever seen—on par with the big swans from the high lake or the snowy owl that used to winter near the mountain’s western face. Arion had that same smooth elegance and otherworldly serenity. And her skin was perfect: no pimples, blotches, wrinkles, or marks. Most of the time, she didn’t seem real at all.
Also with them was Nyphron, the leader of the Galantians. He wasn’t nearly so beautiful, but he was silent. Not that he didn’t talk—though none of them said much as they hiked the ridge—it was more that he made no noise at all. Dressed in layers of metal and adorned with sword and shield, he trotted up the forest slope with a ghostly quiet. Suri prided herself on moving noiselessly through the wood, and Minna was no slouch herself, but Suri had to stop occasionally to make sure Nyphron was still there. He always was, and closer than she expected.
Nearing the top of the rise, Suri found herself looking upon that holy glade where all other trees refrained from growing out of deference to the Grand Lady of the Wood. She stopped at the sight of Magda. The ancient tree, sheared in half, was naked, her leaves gone. One side of her trunk was blackened; on the other, bark-stripped wood splintered from the trunk. On the ground lay a severed limb. Suri stood staring, unable to move. Minna brushed her side and nuzzled her hand, but Suri couldn’t take her eyes off the horror that had been the oldest tree of the forest.
The wind blew, then blew again.
Silence.
A tear slipped down Suri’s cheek, and then another. Minna once more prodded her, whimpering slightly as she nudged. The wisest of all wolves knew it was best not to dwell on such horror. The two moved on, following Arion and Nyphron, who hadn’t bothered to stop and pay their respects.
“Who’s there?” The voice came from down the slope and through the thicket, where an enormous head poked out of the ground. Shifting into the Fhrey language, he added, “Come to finish me, have you?” The giant, still sealed in dirt, must have smelled them; he was facing away from their approach and unable to turn his head fully. Suri wasn’t an expert on giants and their ability to detect scents, but the four of them had made no more noise moving through the woods than a gentle summer breeze.
Nyphron took the lead then and marched down the length of the devastated hillside and right up to the colossal nose.
“Rapnagar, what a surprise…and by surprise I mean it’s not, and by Rapnagar I mean you son of the Tetlin whore.”
Arion followed the Fhrey warrior. “You know this Grenmorian?”
Nyphron nodded and put a booted foot on the bridge of the giant’s nose, leaning in toward his left eye. “Shouldn’t have left Hentlyn.”
“No food in our mountains.”
Nyphron frowned and put more weight on the giant’s nose. “Yeah, right. So, who sent you?”
“Go fill a pig,” Rapnagar growled back.
Nyphron drew his sword and pierced the giant’s left nostril, pinning it to the ground. The Grenmorian cried out.
Arion took a surprised step backward. “What are you doing?”
“I came here for answers.” Nyphron spoke just as much to the giant as to Arion.
“You won’t get any from me,” Rapnagar said through gritted teeth. “But why don’t you enlighten me? I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see my brothers’ destruction. How many did we kill? Was Grygor among them? How is it that you survived? Were you hiding like a coward?”
“Your brothers died before they even reached the dahl’s gate. They trampled some flowers and frightened a goat, but that’s all.”
“Liar!”
Nyphron twisted his sword and the giant cried out again.
“Stop doing that!” Arion shouted, stepping forward. “Listen,” she said, addressing the giant, “your attack did fail. That should be obvious by the fact that we are standing before you. When I told Nyphron of your predicament, he insisted on an audience. The only thing you have to bargain with is knowledge. I think it’s in your best interest to cooperate.”
Rapnagar didn’t answer right away. His big eyes blinked twice and his lips shifted once to the left and then to the right. At last he asked, “What’s in it for me?”
“How about an easy death and proper burial?” Nyphron asked. “I’ll slit your throat from ear to ear. Be real quick about it, and then the Miralyith will bury you so the animals won’t feed on your body…only the worms.”
“Not good enough. I’ll talk, but in return you have to let me go.”
Nyphron was shaking his head even before Rapnagar finished. “We don’t need to know that badly. I can already guess most of it. The storm was a pretty big clue.”
“I can tell you their next move.”
“No, you can’t. They thought this attack would succeed. Any plans already in existence have changed.”
“I can tell you who we were after. Who specifically.”
Nyphron paused and took a moment to think. “Was I singled out?”
“I’d nod but I have a sword in my nose.”
With a quick jerk Nyphron pulled his weapon free, causing the giant to grunt, his eyes to wince. “Who else? Did they mention any other names?”
The giant shook his head. “No, no. I won’t say anything else until you promise to let me go.”
“Okay, you tell us what you know and you can go free,” Nyphron said.
Rapnagar shifted his eyes and focused on Arion. “She agree?”
“Yes,” Arion replied.
“Okay. Okay. Arion of the Miralyith, Nyphron of the Instarya, and all the Rhunes in the wooden fort, especially the one called Raithe, the one known as the God Killer.”
Arion furrowed her brow, thinking. “And no one else?”