In a desperate defense, she released an unfocused wave of magic, a rippling shock wave of compressed air in every direction. The invisible explosion flung the feline attacker away from her, but the blast seemed oddly diminished. Bleeding badly, Nicci staggered to her feet.
Bannon had pressed his back against the slickrock wall for protection while he jabbed with his sword. One of his blows scored a bloody gash in the ribs of the second panther. Thistle dodged and darted as the third beast tried to trap her, playing with her like a cat with a mouse. Angry at seeing the girl threatened, Nicci reached out and aimed her gift, intending to burst the heart of the attacking panther.
Nothing happened.
Nicci felt the flow of magic go out of her, but somehow her spell bounced off the sand panther like a stone skimming over the surface of a pond. She tried again, also with no effect. She had control of her gift—she had not lost it, like Nathan—but this big panther was impervious to her strike.
As the beast prowled in, Nicci saw that its hide was branded with arcane designs, glyphs that were all angles and swooping curves. She recognized it as a spell-form of some sort, perhaps a kind of magical armor.
These were not merely wild beasts.
Nicci crouched to defend herself as the first panther came back to attack. She hurled fire that should have incinerated the big cat, but the magical flames rolled off of its fur. Undaunted, the snarling cat sprang toward her, and Nicci had no time to consider what alternative magic might be effective.
She pulled the long dagger at her side, ready to fight. She realized the branded arcane symbols might give the sand panthers a kind of protection against magic, but surely a sharp knife would cause damage. She sliced the air with her dagger, then sprang to one side as the lunging cat missed her. She did not have time for finesse, nor did she mean to taunt these creatures. She needed them dead.
Thistle ducked behind a fallen slab of slickrock and a twisted pi?on. Bannon defended himself, wildly flailing with his sword, forgetting the intricate moves that Nathan had taught him. The panther was also a flurry of feral rage.
Nicci watched the big cats move together in an oddly coordinated attack. The three big cats moved in eerie unison. They had separated their prey, and each panther seemed to know what the other two were doing. Although she couldn’t read the symbols branded on their hides, she had heard of spell-bonded animals before. These three panthers were a fighting triad, a troka, their minds connected to one another to make them a perfect fighting force.
Nicci wondered if the Lifedrinker had sent these predators to attack them, but that didn’t seem right. Sand panthers were not part of the Scar, or the original fertile valley here from years ago. They must have been raised and trained somewhere else, by someone else.
Regardless of their origin, the cats were perfect killing machines. The reasons didn’t matter. Not now.
She diverted her attention to see Thistle duck under the pi?on boughs and scramble out the other side as the cat lunged into the tangled branches. The girl rolled on her back and came up with her own knife in her hands. She wrapped both hands around the hilt as the panther pounced.
Nicci caught her breath, knowing that she couldn’t reach the girl in time—and then she realized that Thistle had intentionally lured the overeager predator. As the cat lunged, Thistle brought the knife up under its chin, driving the blade through its jaws, the roof of its mouth, and into its brain. The panther convulsed and shook, then collapsed on top of the scrawny girl, nearly crushing her.
When the big cat fell dead, the other two panthers shuddered and reeled, as if they, too, had suffered a painful blow. They howled in eerie unison.
Bannon used that moment to charge forward, thrusting his sword straight into the rib cage of the second panther. The tawny predator thrashed and roared, opening its mouth wide, but the sword point had pierced the creature’s heart and protruded from the opposite side of its chest.
Nicci raked her own knife across the ribs of the last panther, which was momentarily stunned by the deaths of its two spell-bonded partners. The maddened creature slashed at her with its claws, and Nicci sliced again with her knife. The injured beast thrashed its tail and came back in a wild attack, as if ready to throw away its life. The heavy creature drove her to the ground, but Nicci stabbed upward, deep into its belly.
Soaked with blood, Thistle squirmed out from under the body of the panther she had killed and flew like a demon to Nicci’s rescue. The girl stabbed the last panther several times with her own knife, and with a great heave, Nicci pushed the dying beast away. She extricated herself and stood covered in blood, both the panther’s and her own. The skin of her back had been torn to ribbons.
Bannon was in shock as he slid his sword from the carcass of the panther he had killed. “I’m surprised the Lifedrinker didn’t send giant scorpions or centipedes.”
Nicci shook her head as she stood bleeding, beginning to feel the fiery pain of her multiple wounds. “I am not certain the Lifedrinker is the cause of this.”
The last sand panther was not dead. It lay on the ground heaving great breaths, rumbling with deep pain and bleeding from numerous wounds.
Bannon stepped up behind her, gasping at the deep bloody furrows in her back. “Sorceress! Those wounds! We have to heal them.”
Nicci looked down at her scratched arms. “I can heal myself.” She bent next to the dying sand panther. “But this one is nearing its end. I should put it out of its misery.” She looked around. “With those spell symbols shielding it from magical attacks, I’ll have to use my knife.”
The dying panther emitted a loud rumble that sounded more forlorn than threatening. Bannon’s face fell and his lip trembled. “Do you have to kill it? Can’t you heal it, too?”
Nicci narrowed her eyes. “Why would I tend this creature? It tried to kill us.”
“What if it was trained to do that? Shouldn’t we know where it came from?” Bannon asked. “We already killed the other two, and it’s…” The words caught in his throat and he choked out the rest. “It’s such a beautiful cat.…” He couldn’t say any more.
As the adrenaline rush faded, Nicci began to feel the raging pain of her own wounds. This panther’s claws had torn her back down to the muscle and bone. “It is not a helpless kitten like the ones your father drowned.”
“No it’s not.” Bannon shook his head. “But it is dying, and you can heal it.”
Thistle squatted next to the heaving panther and looked up at Nicci with her honey-brown eyes. “My uncle and aunt said that you shouldn’t kill unless it is absolutely necessary.” Smeared with blood, she looked waifish and forlorn.