though.”
“Because
we’re using lifeforce?”
“Yes.
It doesn’t take that much, and we can draw a little from everywhere. At least,
I think—I hope—that’s what I did.”
“Show
me. I’ll watch.” Wendra glanced forward at the flock, then back at Alucius.
Alucius
extracted a cartridge from the Northern Guard belt he had taken out that
morning—for the first time in years. He held up the cartridge. Then he began to
infuse it with the same kind of darkness that had brought down the pteridons so
many years before. Once he felt that the cartridge was charged, he leaned
toward Wendra and handed it to her.
She
studied it, then handed it back. “It didn’t seem to take much.”
He
passed a second cartridge to her. “You try.”
Wendra
took the cartridge. Seemingly effortlessly, she eased the darkness of lifeforce
into the bullet, even making sure that none was wasted in the area of casing
and powder.
“Have
you been practicing that?”
“Me?”
The corners of her mouth quirked. “Only a few times.”
Alucius
shook his head. “I didn’t need to worry about that.”
“I’m
glad that you worry. I just don’t want you to worry too much.”
He
laughed. “You’re very good at salving my pride.”
She
grinned. “You’re good at recognizing it.”
Alucius
couldn’t help but smile in return, even as he hoped that she wouldn’t need the
skill with the cartridges anytime soon. Unhappily, he had the feeling that was
a vain hope.
The
slightest frown crossed his brow.
“Did
I do something wrong?” asked Wendra.
“No.
I was just wondering. About the darkness. I’m drawing it. So are you.”
“Do
you feel that we’re taking it from something living? Can you tell if there’s
any lifeforce missing from around us?” asked Wendra.
Alucius
studied the area around them and around the flock. He could not feel any
difference. Then, he worked on infusing the cartridge in the rifle’s firing
chamber with the lifeforce darkness, trying to sense from where he was drawing
that darkness.
“It’s
coming from everywhere, a little bit from everywhere,” observed Wendra. “I’ll
try it again, and you watch.”
As
Wendra charged another cartridge, Alucius observed.
“From
what I can feel,” he said, “you’re right.”
“So
that means you shouldn’t worry. Not too much. I’d wager that some of that
lifeforce regenerates itself within a few days, just like we do when we work
hard and get tired, then sleep and eat and feel better.”
Alucius
glanced at the lead nightram, but the flock had not spread too much. He looked
back, but the trailing ewes weren’t straggling that much, not yet. “But the
Talent-creatures sucked it right out of everything. Or they seemed to.”
“Could
that be because they’re not from Corus? They’re not linked to the land the way
we are, or the way anything that grows here is.”
“It
must be.” Her suggestion made sense, and he couldn’t think of a better
explanation. That also might be why there were so few ifrits. But the soarer
had suggested that there had once been far more, hundreds of them, if not
thousands.
Alucius
shivered at the thought of ifrits and the wild Talent-creatures from elsewhere
sucking the very life out of Corus. Yet… at the moment, what could he do? He
didn’t even know if there would be more of the creatures appearing in Corus… or
where that might happen. There was certainly no reason for them to appear on
the stead, not that he knew of.
“You
look worried.”
“I
was just thinking about the ifrits. Not that there’s anything we can do now.”
He looked forward, then stood in the stirrups. “One of the young rams has
headed off. You want to check the stragglers?”
“I’ll
take care of them.”
Alucius
eased the gray forward. Talk of ifrits and Talent-force would have to wait.
Chapter 10
Tempre, Lanachrona
The
warm golden light of late afternoon poured through the west-facing window of
the Southern Guard