He smiled. “When you found the dead Wolfsman, was it this close to the river?”
“I…I think so. I couldn’t find it in the dark. Not now. You know where it is?”
Thealos squeezed his arm. “Follow me.”
They went forward and came to another gully. Peering down into it, Thealos saw the glow coming from the water of a small pond at one end. Bracken swirled on the surface and the gully water trickled slowly on the far side of it, passing around a thick mesh of mud and leaves that bulged from the pond. Something was damming the gully, creating the little pond. His eyes grew wide. Rising from the earth nearby, he heard the mournful sound of death before jerking his head. He saw the crumpled skeleton of a dead Shae not twenty paces away. Gripping the fringe of swamp grass for support, Thealos lowered himself down the gully wall. He landed with a little splash in ankle-deep water and his feet sank in the mud. He pulled the arrow back, bending the bow quietly with a broadhead arrow ready to fly.
Thealos walked a few paces. “The Wolfsman is over here,” Thealos said, hurrying to the body. He breathed faster, listening to the sounds of pursuit in the woods. It would take Tannon and the others a little while to track them.
“How in Pitan did you find it?” Tomn muttered in astonishment. He followed Thealos down and crouched down in the mud. “This is it! Sweet hate, you found it!” His grin was triumphant.
Thealos examined the body quickly. It had been robbed of all value and recognition. Its bones moldered in the damp swamp. A small dusting of leaves and leeches covered it, and Thealos quickly brushed them off like roach moths on a cloak. He traced the bones with his finger, feeling the potency of the Wolfsman’s agonizing death sting his nose like pepper. His eyes watered.
“We didn’t kill him,” Tomn promised, seeing the tears in Thealos’s eyes.
“I know. Looks like the Sinew dragon surprised him. Took his leg off.” The bone was snapped and splintered, mid-thigh. “He must have dragged himself this far before collapsing.” Thealos sighed. “He bled to death, Tomn. Quickly.”
“Oh. Did he die…right?”
Thealos shook his head. Kneeling quietly in the mud, he crossed his hands before him. “Keasorn in Eroth,” he prayed softly, using the ancient tongue of his people, “Welcome the soul of Jade Shayler back to your light and face. He died with your love in his heart.” He swallowed, steeling himself. “Shenalle protect us from the Firekin. Shenalle protect us and keep us. Shenalle bring peace to the troubled…”
A bobbing streak of light went through the trees at the top of the gully. Thealos could hear Tannon’s band fighting the twisted maples, searching their direction. Cropper’s voice was raw and furious.
Thealos clenched his teeth and hurried the rest of the prayer. “Keasorn guide my arrows. Keasorn give me courage to strike my enemy. Vannier grant me luck. Vannier give me cunning. In the name of the three gods, grant my prayer.”
“Thealos,” Tomn warned. “They’re coming!”
Opening his eyes, Thealos swallowed his impatience. He left the broken skeleton in the gully brook and went back to the pond. From above, he hadn’t seen it very clearly. From the bottom, he could easily see the mound blocking the flow of the brook. It looked like a tree had fallen into the gully, but its long shape was twisted and contorted. Raising the bow, he aimed for the bulge. He let it fly.
The arrow penetrated the mud, sticking into something solid. He waited and Tomn watched curiously. “The dragon is dead. Come on, Tomn, help me dig it out.” He slid the bow around his shoulder.
Crossing into the pond, the two dug into the earth with their hands. Mud slid down Thealos’ arms, but it also fell away from the stiff bony hide of a Sinew dragon. There was no Life magic pulsing beneath the shell-like scales. Turning, he plunged his hands into the mud at the bottom of the shallow pond. The water went up to his elbows and then up higher. Dropping to his knees, not caring how wet he got, he dug his fingers toward the eye sockets. The light grew brighter as he sifted through the water and debris. And then, between two bony knobs, he touched the hilt of a sword. Silvan magic screamed in his ears.
“They went this way,” Jurrow panted. “See? Two sets of tracks. Can’t be far, Tannon!”
“I’ll kill that rook,” Tannon roared. “I’ll split his head in half!”
“Quit gabbing!” Hoth seethed. “Beck, over here. I think I see something.”