Read Online 1.5 - Destiny Unchosen by Lindsay Buroker - Free Book Online
Authors: Lindsay Buroker
Ads: Link
startled her, and that alone was almost enough to upset her balance. He caught her wrist, as if to secure her to the tree. The hilt of his sword was clenched between his teeth. Another feline leaped, but Jakatra let go of Temi and intercepted it with his blade.
She was tempted to stay and help, but he clearly meant to buy her time to climb. And what good would she be if she fell into that snarling mass of animals, anyway? She would only get herself killed. With her eyes on that first branch, she returned to climbing. Instead of putting away the sword and plunging them into darkness again, she tried to use it as an aid. She drove the serrated part into the bark like an anchor, using it to help pull her body up foot by foot. Grunting and straining—and lacking all of Jakatra’s agility—she muscled herself up the tree through will and determination. She clasped onto the branch with a great sigh of relief and pulled herself astraddle it, putting her back to the trunk.
Jakatra was right behind her.
“We’ll be safe up here?” she asked, squinting into the gloom below. There was a bump halfway up the tree. That couldn’t be one of the creatures, could it?
“Safe? No. They can climb.”
Temi’s heart sank. “Then why...?” Why had they bothered scrambling up to this perch?
“Only one or two can come at us at a time, and we’ll have the advantage, the high ground.”
Temi grimaced, not sure how advantaged she felt, sitting on a branch. Even as she watched, Jakatra slashed and stabbed at a feline that must have weighed four hundred pounds. It made a tiger look small. The animal hissed and slashed right back at him. Those eerie yips came from the ground, and more creatures started up the tree.
“Turn off the light of your sword so I can see something,” Jakatra said, a strange note to his voice. “The glow is disturbing my night vision.”
As much as that notion went against her every instinct—surely light could only help her fight these beasts—she commanded the sword to dim, as she had been taught. After its illumination, the night was especially dark, and Temi blinked, willing her eyes to adjust. There were stars up there above the trees, but she hadn’t spotted a moon on this world yet.
Clangs and thuds came from below her branch. Temi shifted her weight, trying to find a position where she might help him attack. Standing or crouching on the branch might be best, but then what would she hold onto?
“Look down,” Jakatra said.
“I can’t see in the dark,” she said, though he had to know that by now. She squinted toward the ground, though she didn’t expect to pick anything out of the gloom. To her surprise, she spotted a few glowing blue dots moving around the base of the tree. Another was halfway up the trunk. “What the—”
“Command devices,” Jakatra said, his voice grim.
“Like the ones the animals that first night were wearing? The animals you said were domesticated?”
“Yes.”
“You were controlling those other ones, right? Who’s controlling these?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh.”
Chapter 8
Temi cut one of the shaggy felines between the eyes, then slashed at the paw gripping the branch she was standing on. The beast let go, tumbling into the darkness below. A startled cry came from it or one of the buddies it landed on. She slumped against the trunk, wiping sweat from her eyes and wishing, for the fiftieth time, she had her water bottle with her.
“I had intended to pit you against a number of different types of animals tonight,” Jakatra said from a branch on the other side of the trunk. They had climbed up another ten feet to find separate perches for each of them—and in hopes of deterring the giant cats. That had been two hours ago. They hadn’t spoken much; there hadn’t been many lulls. “Nothing else will approach while the saru are here in such alarming numbers.”
Temi wouldn’t want anything else to approach. She was so tired that she no longer
She was tempted to stay and help, but he clearly meant to buy her time to climb. And what good would she be if she fell into that snarling mass of animals, anyway? She would only get herself killed. With her eyes on that first branch, she returned to climbing. Instead of putting away the sword and plunging them into darkness again, she tried to use it as an aid. She drove the serrated part into the bark like an anchor, using it to help pull her body up foot by foot. Grunting and straining—and lacking all of Jakatra’s agility—she muscled herself up the tree through will and determination. She clasped onto the branch with a great sigh of relief and pulled herself astraddle it, putting her back to the trunk.
Jakatra was right behind her.
“We’ll be safe up here?” she asked, squinting into the gloom below. There was a bump halfway up the tree. That couldn’t be one of the creatures, could it?
“Safe? No. They can climb.”
Temi’s heart sank. “Then why...?” Why had they bothered scrambling up to this perch?
“Only one or two can come at us at a time, and we’ll have the advantage, the high ground.”
Temi grimaced, not sure how advantaged she felt, sitting on a branch. Even as she watched, Jakatra slashed and stabbed at a feline that must have weighed four hundred pounds. It made a tiger look small. The animal hissed and slashed right back at him. Those eerie yips came from the ground, and more creatures started up the tree.
“Turn off the light of your sword so I can see something,” Jakatra said, a strange note to his voice. “The glow is disturbing my night vision.”
As much as that notion went against her every instinct—surely light could only help her fight these beasts—she commanded the sword to dim, as she had been taught. After its illumination, the night was especially dark, and Temi blinked, willing her eyes to adjust. There were stars up there above the trees, but she hadn’t spotted a moon on this world yet.
Clangs and thuds came from below her branch. Temi shifted her weight, trying to find a position where she might help him attack. Standing or crouching on the branch might be best, but then what would she hold onto?
“Look down,” Jakatra said.
“I can’t see in the dark,” she said, though he had to know that by now. She squinted toward the ground, though she didn’t expect to pick anything out of the gloom. To her surprise, she spotted a few glowing blue dots moving around the base of the tree. Another was halfway up the trunk. “What the—”
“Command devices,” Jakatra said, his voice grim.
“Like the ones the animals that first night were wearing? The animals you said were domesticated?”
“Yes.”
“You were controlling those other ones, right? Who’s controlling these?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh.”
Chapter 8
Temi cut one of the shaggy felines between the eyes, then slashed at the paw gripping the branch she was standing on. The beast let go, tumbling into the darkness below. A startled cry came from it or one of the buddies it landed on. She slumped against the trunk, wiping sweat from her eyes and wishing, for the fiftieth time, she had her water bottle with her.
“I had intended to pit you against a number of different types of animals tonight,” Jakatra said from a branch on the other side of the trunk. They had climbed up another ten feet to find separate perches for each of them—and in hopes of deterring the giant cats. That had been two hours ago. They hadn’t spoken much; there hadn’t been many lulls. “Nothing else will approach while the saru are here in such alarming numbers.”
Temi wouldn’t want anything else to approach. She was so tired that she no longer
Similar Books
