Read Curse: The Dark God Book 2 for Free Online Page B

white fletched arrows.
    Tenter rolled to his feet, but Talen already had the string to his cheek. He released again.
    Tenter twisted to the side, then came again.
    The horse was at a full gallop now, thundering down the moonlit road, leaving the house and barn behind. The animal’s gallop was strong and smooth and would have been a pleasure to sit if Talen hadn’t felt his rotted thirst for the animal growing.
    Talen shot the third arrow. It flew true and struck Tenter, but the angle of the shot and the metal of the cuirass were just enough to deflect it, and the arrow skittered off into the shadows by the barn.
    Talen grunted. He should have had that shot.
    Tenter came again, but he must have taken a wrong step, for he tumbled, rose, and tried to run again, but only managed to limp a few paces. He took a few more injured strides, then stood in the middle of the road, yelled, and gestured an insult.
    The dogs flew past Tenter, continuing the chase. Three others from the horse breeder’s house ran after them. But Talen nocked another arrow and shot one of them in the chest. The dog went down in a yelp. The other dogs slowed, and then the owners called the rest back.
    River urged the horse to the right, and they raced past a number of low-hanging branches that forced Talen to duck. When he came up again, he saw their pursuers had indeed given up the chase.
    He blew out a breath in relief, but knew it wasn’t over. Tenter would return to the village. Anyone who had been captured, and was still alive, was going to face a horror. And Sugar was still out there. He turned around and leaned in close to River.
    “We’ve got to go back,” he said.
    “It’s too dangerous,” River said.
    He said, “We’ve got to go back for her.”

4
    Water
    SUGAR PUT A good two dozen yards between her and the village gate, minding the road, for a number of wagons and horses must have come through after a rain, leaving ruts and tracks that had dried hard with deep edges that could break a toe or twist an ankle. But she couldn’t slow because she’d seen Solem’s dogs in competitions. Seen them run down deer, their teeth ripping into hamstrings and throats.
    Holy ancestors, she prayed, give me speed and immediately realized she could answer her own prayer. A candidate’s weave multiplied, but it also limited the Fire. It was given to those new to the lore to keep them from killing themselves. Her weave was a copper arm ring. If she took it off, she could multiply herself beyond the power the weave gave her.
    She grabbed the copper ring, knowing if she lost control, if she gave into the firelust, it would be the end of her. But she was going to die if she couldn’t run faster than those dogs. So she slipped the copper weave of might off her arm and shoved it into her sack.
    Immediately, her Fire began to diminish. The strength in her legs slackened. But this was to be expected. When the weave was on, it controlled the flow. Now that it was off, she was forced to manage it herself. She began to build her Fire in the way River had taught her: carefully, in increments, so that it didn’t flare and run away with her.
    A surge of life and vigor rushed back into her limbs. But it wasn’t enough at her current speed.
    The dogs galloped behind her, quickly closing the distance. She was dead if she kept this pace.
    She increased her Fire. Felt it in her heart. Felt it in the quickening of her lungs. She measured her strides as she had practiced. She’d been warned that if she multiplied herself too much, she would overpower her breath. And then she’d fall to the ground panting or pass out completely. Breath was the key.
    But she’d never multiplied herself to that point. She didn’t know her limit. And she wondered, not for the first time, how she would know when she was approaching it. How could you tell when you were on the edge when you felt the surge of joy she did now? River had never been able to give a satisfactory answer.
    She pumped