Read Online Hunter and Fox by Philippa Ballantine - Free Book Online Page B

hair, dragging his head back to feel the kiss of steel. “This will teach you,” he hissed.
    But exactly what lesson that would be, was suddenly lost.
    The men screamed all at once, a dreadful chorus of surprised pain. The blades rattled to the ground and Byre was able to scramble out from under his attackers. The earth itself had grabbed hold of them. For an instant he couldn't hear anything but the sound of bones breaking and stones rumbling. It was a dreadful cacophony as the bandits were pulled into the soil, still crying out in horror. Byre watched in frozen shock.
    When the Kindred emerged, he didn't know what to say; in his childhood he had seen only one, and that memory was dim and colored by childish fears.
    The two creatures, seething with the fires of the earth, slid through stone and turned their burning eyes on him. Immediately, he felt their immense sadness weigh upon him.
    â€œThank you,” he managed to gasp out of a tight throat.
    There is no need to thank . The great curved head bent toward him with the intensity that a bird of prey might examine a mouse. That regard almost unmade him.
    Dropping his gaze, Byre scooped up his fallen stick, not quite understanding why the Kindred had come to his aid. The pact had been broken between his people and theirs, even before the Harrowing.
    Made by Kindred, but broken by Vaerli. The second Kindred's eyes ran with blue flame. He heard Byre's thoughts more easily than if he had spoken. It might have even been a form of humor, but Byre had no real way of telling.
    Lost one , the same creature was suddenly in front of him though he had not seen it move, its voice almost a purr. He felt the heat of it near to his face. Son of Ellyria Dragonsoul, we do not forget. You are the last of innocence and must be protected, because no sin weighs you.
    Byre laughed at that, thinking of all the dreadful things he had merely done to survive. He could have almost cried.
    You are on the path. You and yours have called us forth; already one of our kind has risked much for your line—just as we have this day. Without a face and expression to judge, it was impossible to tell what emotion was attached to that statement—joy or irritation.
    Byre did not know the words to bind or to summon. He had none of that lost knowledge, yet standing in the warmth of the Kindred he wished for them.
    Things can never be as they were . The blue-flamed Kindred reached out to him, but stopped a hair's breadth from his skin. You must follow your flame-dream, youngest. Go to the World Builders.
    Dimly, Byre heard Ungro finally labor down from the wagon, followed by the rasp of his indrawn breath. As if a mere mortal gaze disturbed them, the Kindred began to retreat into the earth. The stone slid aside, while their flame dimmed before disappearing entirely.
    Byre stood transfixed, but their final words lingered in his mind.
    We will be watching.

T he Lady Kelanim was taking particular joy in her discomfort. Watching her out of the corner of one eye, Talyn could only glower as the mistress swept across the room dragging fine dresses behind her. She was presently engaged in pulling out every dress she owned and scattering them around her large bedchamber. A flock of chambermaids were trailing in her wake, busy trying to keep them from being stepped on while managing to hide their horror.
    Kelanim seemed to be more interested in holding the fripperies up to the Hunter than offering them to Talyn—not that she minded that.
    It was galling, though, how she also reveled in every opportunity to stick her with a subtle jibe. “This gown is divine. I wore it at the midwinter festival. It would almost be your color, but you can see it is totally unsuitable. Your shoulders are far too wide, they would snap the sleeves.”
    Talyn did not rise to the insult. She had earned every muscle in her body in defense of her people. While Kelanim delved deeper into her cupboards, the Hunter roamed the