Part 9 (2/2)
Carefully, she lowered her defenses, just by a bit, in the direction of Kord and his sons. Carefully, she lowered her defenses, just by a bit, in the direction of Kord and his sons. None of them were afraid. None of them were afraid. She could feel nothing, with a casual reaching out of her senses, but a mild tension from Aric. She could feel nothing, with a casual reaching out of her senses, but a mild tension from Aric.
Thunder flashed again, and she knew she would never be able to raise her defenses again in time. She struggled to anyway-and again, the tide of terrified emotion came a beat later than she expected, enabling her to hold steady against it once more.
She found herself swaying on her feet, and then a hand gripped her arm, another her elbow. She looked up to find Fade standing beside her, holding her steady.
”Mistress,” Fade said, ducking his scarred head in a clumsy little bow. The blood on his cut lip had begun to dry, blackening. ”Mistress, Stead-holder hurt.”
”I know,” Isana said. ”I heard that you found him. Thank you, Fade.”
”Mistress hurt?” The slave tilted his head to one side.
”Fine,” Isana breathed. She looked around at the families, huddling together and listening to the fury of the storm outside. ”Fade. Does this storm frighten you?”
Fade nodded his head, his expression absent, eyes focusing elsewhere. Fade nodded his head, his expression absent, eyes focusing elsewhere. ”But you're not very afraid?” ”But you're not very afraid?” ”Tavi,” Fade said. ”Tavi.” ”Tavi,” Fade said. ”Tavi.”
Isana sighed. ”If anyone can find him in this, it's Bernard. Brutus can protect him from the wind-manes, and Cyprus will help him find Tavi. Tavi needs Bernard.”
”Hurt,” Fade said. ”Hurt bad.”
”Yes,” Isana said, absently. ”Stay near for a moment. I may need your help.”
The slave grunted, without moving, though his distant expression left Isana uncertain that he had heard the command. She sighed and closed her eyes, reaching out to touch her fury.
”Rill,” Isana whispered. She focused intently on an image of Bittan in her mind, picturing the young man as he sat against the wall. The water fury was a ripple along her spine, across her skin, as she focused her concentration- weary, but willing. ”Rill. Show me.”
Fade abruptly stepped away from her, mumbling, ”Hungry.” Isana watched him go, frustrated but unable to divert much attention from directing Rill. Fade edged toward the fire, looking at the Kord-holders apprehensively, creeping toward the stewpot again, as though he expected to be driven away from it with another swift blow. Then he stepped out of her immediate view.
Isana sensed the fury's movement through the moisture-heavy air, brus.h.i.+ng against her and then flowing outward. Isana felt the fury's motion almost as though it was her own arm reaching out toward the young Kord-holter against the wall.
Rill touched on Bittan, and a jolt of vibrant fear lanced back to Isana through the fury's contact. She let out a gasp, her eyes widening, finally understanding what was happening in the room.
Bittan was working a fire-crafting on the room, sending out a subtle apprehension to almost every person in it, heightening their fears and drawing their anxieties to the forefront of their thoughts. It was a subtle working- more subtle than she would have thought possible from the young man. He must have called his fury into the fire near him, which explained why he had claimed the s.p.a.ce in front of it as his own.
With the realization, a wave of dizzying weariness pa.s.sed over Isana. She lost her balance and stumbled forward, to her knees, lowering one hand to the floor to balance and lifting the other to her face.
”Isana?” Aldo's voice came to her clearly, and talk in the room dropped away to a near silence as the folk of Bernard-holt turned their attention to her. ”Isana, are you all right?”
Isana looked up to find Kord's sons looking straight at her, their expressions startled, guilty. Bittan hissed something to Aric. Aric's face hardened.
She looked up to tell Aldo about Bittan's fire-crafting-and suddenly found that she couldn't push the air out of her lungs.
Isana lifted her head, eyes sweeping around in a sudden panic. She struggled to speak, but couldn't, her throat unable to expel a breath-or, she realized a moment later, to draw it in.
People crowded around her, then, Aldo leading the other Stead-holders over to her with quick, fearful steps. The diminutive man picked her up and said, ”Help me. Someone help!”
”What's wrong with her?” asked Roth. ”Good furies, she's terrified.”
Voices mingled and blended around her in a worried buzz. She struggled, reaching out for Rill, but the water fury only clouded around her, pressing close, in nervous reaction to Isana's own wild fear. As her helplessness increased, her mental defenses eroded, and the fear of those in the room flooded over more and more thickly as they pressed closer. She lost track of who was speaking and reeled in confusion.
”I don't know. She just fell. Did anyone else see?” ”I don't know. She just fell. Did anyone else see?” ”Mistress?” ”Mistress?” ”Isana, oh great furies, she and her brother both-this is an evil day!” ”Isana, oh great furies, she and her brother both-this is an evil day!”
Isana struggled to look around, pus.h.i.+ng away Otto as he tried to open her mouth, to look down her throat and see if she was choking.
”Hold her!” ”Hold her!” ”Isana, calm down!” ”Isana, calm down!” ”She's not breathing!” ”She's not breathing!”
Kord came over through the crowd, but Isana looked past the big Stead-holder-to where his sons still sat by the fire, unnoticed. Bittan had looked up at her, and a cruel smile had twisted his handsome mouth. He clenched his fingers abruptly into a fist, and Isana felt an accompanying spike of blinding panic flash through her, driving away thought for a moment.
Beside Bittan sat Aric. Aric, Isana thought. A wind-crafter. The quiet son of Kord wasn't looking at her, but he had his fingers bridged together and his expression was set in concentration.
Darkness swam in front of her eyes, and she struggled to mouth words to Aldo, who held her, his eyes wide with panic.
”Isana,” he breathed. ”Isana, I can't understand you.”
Everything wavered, and Isana found herself laying on a table, the world spinning above her. Kord arrived, a sudden odor of stale sweat and roasted meat. He looked down at her and said, ”I think she's panicked. Woman, calm down. Don't try to talk.” He leaned over her, his eyes narrowing. ”Don't,” he muttered softly, eyes malicious and threatening. ”Don't try to talk. Calm down and don't talk. Maybe it will go away.”
Isana tried to push Kord away, but he was too big, too heavy, her arms too weak.
”All you have to do is nod,” he whispered. ”Just be a good girl and agree to let things go. It doesn't have to be this way.”
She stared up at him, feeling her own helplessness and fear wash through her, felt herself losing control in the face of that terror. She knew that Bittan was making the fear worse, making her more afraid, but that bit of knowledge seemed to have no particular relevance before the wild, animal panic. If she did not give in to Kord, she was certain, he would stand by and let her die.
Fury flashed through her, then, a sudden fire that evaporated the fear.
Isana raked her nails at Kord's eyes. He drew back from her before she could do more than leave a set of small, pink weals on his cheek, his eyes sparkling with anger.
Isana forced herself to sit up as her vision grew darker and darker. She pointed a finger, weakly, toward the fire. Isana forced herself to sit up as her vision grew darker and darker. She pointed a finger, weakly, toward the fire. Everyone turned to look-and Aldo's eyes widened in sudden comprehension. Everyone turned to look-and Aldo's eyes widened in sudden comprehension. ”b.l.o.o.d.y crows!” he snarled. ”That b.a.s.t.a.r.d of Kord's is killing her!” ”b.l.o.o.d.y crows!” he snarled. ”That b.a.s.t.a.r.d of Kord's is killing her!”
There was a general gasp. Confusion spread rapidly through the room, the heightened emotions already present making it flare up like a wildfire through dry gra.s.s. Everyone started crying out at once.
”What?” Otto looked back and forth. ”Someone's what?”
Aldo turned and started shoving his way toward the fire. Then he yelped and fell forward, clutching at his foot where the stone floor had suddenly folded up and over it like a heavy cloth. The young Stead-holder whirled and barked a word at the heavy wooden bench beside the table. The wood shuddered and then twisted, snapping with the brittle sound of old bones, sending splinters as long as daggers flying toward Kord.
The big Stead-holder ducked toward Isana, away from the splinters, though one of them had opened his cheek in a sudden spilled sheet of scarlet blood. He lifted his fist and drove it toward her.
Isana rolled off the table and felt the big Stead-holder's blow shatter the heavy oak like kindling. She crawled away from him on her hands and knees toward the fire and the man whose fury was smothering her.
She saw Fade at the fire, staring at all the confusion with a baffled expression, still half-bent over the pot, a ladle in one hand. He gabbled something and turned to flee, whimpering high in his throat. His feet stumbled over Bittan, as the young Kord-holder stood to his feet, knocking the young man down. Fade let out a screech and fell to one side, steaming stew flying from both bowl and ladle.
It splashed all over Aric's frowning face, drawing a sudden scream of surprised agony from the slender wind-crafter.
Isana drew in a shocked breath, even as she felt the wild confusion of emotion in the room vanish as suddenly as the shadow of a bird flying by overhead. People looked around for a moment, unbalanced by the sudden release from the fire-crafting, backing toward the walls.
”Stop them!” Isana gasped. ”Stop Kord!”
Kord let out a furious roar. ”You barren b.i.t.c.h! I'll kill you!” The big man turned, and Isana could all but feel the stirring in the earth as he drew upon his fury for strength, lifted the broken trestle board of the table as though it did not weigh as much as a grown man, and swung it toward her. Aldo, his foot twisted and dragging, hauled himself to his feet and threw himself at Kord's legs. The smaller Stead-holder hit the larger man low, dragging him off balance and sending the trestle plank sailing wide of Isana, cracking into the wall. Kord kicked Aldo away, as though he weighed no more than a puppy, and turned toward Isana once more.
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