An odd thought occurred to him then. Gerard might actually find all that power he longed for in the depths of the Dragon Spire, like the old soothsayer crone had said he would. The thought had come from out of nowhere, and was lost again as Talon sent a shrill warning through him from the sky above.
Hyden looked up, searching for the bird, but the large, dark shape of the beast that had killed Lord Gregory swept past overhead. Suddenly, true panic set in.
Mikahl’s first thought when he saw the beast gliding by overhead, was of Loudin, but when he reached for Ironspike, his heart sank. It was lying in the grass, back in the clearing, like so much dead wood. The guttural urge to get to King Balton’s blade, and protect it, was almost washed over by the shame of his carelessness.
Vaegon saw the look of despair come over Mikahl, and after only the briefest of glances at the boy’s hip, did he understand what had happened.
“Go!” Hyden screamed from below, saving Vaegon the trouble of thinking of what to say.
Hyden’s concern was for Loudin. He had no idea that Mikahl had left the sword out in the open.
“Talon will show you the quickest way! Follow Talon!”
When Vaegon set out, he was three steps behind Mikahl. Mikahl had spotted Talon, and was already headlong in his charge to get to the sword. It was all the fleet and nimble elf could do to keep up with him.
Chapter 37
In the pit of his stomach, Mikahl felt a certain icy dread, as he ran toward the clearing where Ironspike lay. Talon’s direct path spared him the short jaunt through the overly thick forest. Using the semi-dry stream bed, they went around it. The way was faster, but rockier. Even through the sparsely treed area Mikahl was charging through, the footing was loose and gravelly. At one point, a hook-thorn vine ripped at his face, and now his cheek was bleeding freely from the wide open gash the vine had caused, but he paid it no mind.
The last stretch of the way was uphill and through trees dense with undergrowth, which threatened to trip him up with his every stride. He’d left Vaegon far behind, but he didn’t dare wait for the elf to catch up with him.
Ahead, he could hear Loudin’s voice cursing defiantly over a deep, snarling growl, and the heavy thumping of wings. He had to hurry. He had to secure King Balton’s sword.
By the time he came stumbling into the clearing, he was out of breath, but that didn’t matter to him. He was forced to reorient himself because he entered the clearing from an entirely different point than he had left it. The tree he had felled was aiming in the direction they had gone to find the wolf. It lay across his path now, pointing off to his left.
To his right, by the trunk, was the hellcat that had killed Lord Gregory. It was hovering on slow, flapping wings, while clawing down at Loudin. The tattoo-covered hunter was shirtless and bleeding, but doing a fair job of keeping the creature at bay with the ax Mikahl had left behind. Somewhere, under Loudin’s bare feet, was the sword. Mikahl wasted no time charging across the clearing after it.
As he approached, he saw that Loudin’s injury wasn’t mortal. It was only a gash across his tiger-striped back that was bright and glistening with blood, even in the valley’s morning shadow.
The Seawardsman yelled, and swung the ax up wildly at the huge, menacing beast. It appeared to Mikahl, that the creature wasn’t trying very hard to attack Loudin. Surely, it could maul the hunter to pieces if it really wanted to. It became clear that it was after the sword. The hellcat was too big and too bulky to go crashing into the forest. Ironspike was at the clearing’s edge, and Loudin was right there with it.
Roaring with frustrated determination, the hellcat put its hind legs on the ground, and while folding in its wings, lashed out savagely with its fore claws. Mikahl was only ten paces away and closing fast. He didn’t even see the other dark shape swooping through the shadowed clearing at him. He heard Vaegon cry out a warning from somewhere behind him, but by the time the elf’s words registered in his brain, he was off his feet, and flailing through the air, sideways.
As the world cart-wheeled before his eyes, pain tore through his shoulder. He caught a glimpse of a sleek, shiny black scaled thing, just before the grassy earth came up, and slammed the air from his lungs.
Hyden, still lying exhausted in the ravine, cringed at Mikahl’s rough impact. He saw it all through Talon’s eyes. He wanted nothing more than to raise himself up and go running to help his friends, but his body wouldn’t cooperate with his will. The wyvern had been a surprise. At first, he thought it was a small dragon, with its sinuous body and great wingspan, but the memory of seeing a half-rotted thing in the snow as a young boy came to him.