Read The Destiny of the Dead (The Song of the Tears Book 3) for Free Online Page B

to their survival.
    ‘Clech,’ Nish said to the huge fisherman, who was propping
up a tree, panting, ‘can you bring Yggur? You’re the only one strong enough.’
Though not even Clech could carry him for any great distance.
    Clech heaved Yggur over his shoulder like a net full of fish
and grunted, ‘Which way?’
    ‘Down through the forest, across the lower clearing and
through the gorge – if it’s still open.’
    Flydd stumbled out of the fog, bent double and holding his
belly.
    ‘Xervish?’ said Nish. ‘Are you –?’
    Flydd straightened up painfully. ‘When the lightning flashed
from the caduceus, it felt as though I was being torn in two.’ He peered into
the foggy clearing. ‘What’s the plan?’
    Nish explained. Flydd frowned. ‘Any hope is better than
none, I suppose.’
    ‘I reckon they lost two hundred up there,’ said Nish,
‘mainly to our arrows. And if half their troops were illusions, that means
Klarm only had five hundred, not the thousand we thought –’
    ‘It still leaves them with three hundred crack fighters to
our two hundred novices. If they get among us, they’ll massacre us.’
    ‘They’re coming,’ someone yelled.
    The downpour had not abated but the fog was clearing to
ground-hugging patches of mist, between which Nish made out a dark mass moving
down the clearing. ‘This way.’
    He pushed further into the forest. The tangle of vines and
creepers made it impossible to run except to his left, where deer had opened a
winding trail wide enough for two people to move abreast.
    Behind him, bowstrings twanged as his archers fired. He felt
a trickle of hope – for the moment, he had the advantage. His troops
could fire on the enemy from cover, while they could not fire back for fear of
hitting him or Maelys. It would help to even the odds, and gain vital seconds.
He began to jog on the slippery path.
    Maelys slipped in beside him, wearing a huge knife in a
scabbard on her right hip. He was pleased to see that she was armed, though she
could be killed as easily as Gi had been, and he could not bear to think about
that possibility.
    ‘I’ve never seen such rain,’ she panted, her breasts
bouncing as she ran. ‘I didn’t think the sky could hold so much water.’
    ‘The Range of Ruin is the wettest place on Santhenar –
and the really wet season is yet to come.’
    Could this be the beginning of it? If it was, every gully
would become impassable and they would be trapped here until it ended five
months later – or, rather, until they starved to death.
    She picked a leech off her forearm and flicked it aside, the
puncture ebbing a thin trail of blood. ‘I reckon this rain has something to do
with Yggur’s spell – and the caduceus. What if they’re feeding on each
other?’
    ‘Mmm.’ He did not have time to think about that, though he
felt sure the same interaction had temporarily heightened his dormant
clearsight.
    ‘How far is it to the gorge?’
    ‘Half a league, I’d guess.’
    As they hurried along, they brought each other up to date
– what Nish had been doing since Vivimord had carried him to Gendrigore
through the portal nearly six weeks ago, and where Maelys had been with Flydd
and Colm. She told him about her visits to the Nightland; her encounter with
Emberr and his tragic death, for which she felt responsible, though she did not
say why, and her relentless pursuit by the Numinator and Yalkara.
    Nish said little, for there was little he could say, but
when he put an arm across her shoulders he sensed that it was a comfort to her.
    She stopped for a moment, looking up at him as if she wanted
to tell him something important. ‘Nish?’
    ‘Yes?’
    Maelys gnawed her lip, flushed, then looked away. ‘It
doesn’t matter.’
    They ran on. ‘So did you find it?’ he said. ‘I expect you
didn’t, or someone would have told me.’
    ‘Find what?’ said Maelys absently.
    ‘The antithesis to the tears. That’s what you went to the
Tower of a Thousand