Read Online Tanequil by Terry Brooks - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Terry Brooks
Tags: Fiction
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rocks to the open ground, landing in a crouch that only barely slowed it as it came at the boy and the Dwarf on all fours. Crooked limbs akimbo, head lowered within its concealing hood, it rushed them in a scuttling sideways charge.
âPen!â Khyber screamed in warning, appearing abruptly out of the maze, rushing into the meadow and turning toward them.
Then a huge, dark form catapulted out of the trees behind them, a blur of gray and black that rippled and surged like the darkest ocean wave. Hugging the ground in a long, lean shadowy flow, it intercepted the creature so quickly that it was on top of it before the other knew what was happening. With shrieks that caused the hair on the back of Penâs neck to stand straight up, the two collided and went tumbling head over hindquarters through the long grass. Roars and snarls and a terrible, high-pitched keening followed as both scrambled up, clots of earth and grass flying in all directions.
âBandit!â Pen breathed in disbelief, the name catching in his throat as the massive moor catâs masked face wheeled into the light, muzzle drawn back, dagger teeth gleaming.
The creature was up as well, and moonlight flashed off a strange knife held in one gnarled hand, its blade as silver as the crest of waves caught in sunlight, its edges smooth and deadly. In the glow of moon and stars, Pen could see it clearly, and he knew at once from its unnatural brilliance that it was a thing of magic.
Bandit never hesitated. Enraged by whatever animal instincts the creature had provoked, determined to see the thing torn apart before backing away, it closed on its enemy with a scream that froze Penâs blood. In a knot of rippling fur and billowing cloak, the antagonists tumbled through the grass once more, locked in a death grip that neither would release.
âBandit!â Pen cried out frantically, seeing the knife flash as it rose and fell in short, choppy thrusts.
âRun, Penderrin!â Tagwen shouted at him, pulling on his arm for emphasis. âWe canât wait!â
The boy obeyed, knowing there was nothing he could do to affect the battle between the creature and the moor cat. Remembering Cinnaminson, he tore his eyes away from the struggle. With Tagwen panting next to him, he raced for the
Skatelow.
Bandit had been following them all this time, he thought in wonder. Had the moor cat come into the high country solely because of their chance meeting and his few halting attempts at communication? He couldnât believe it.
Behind him, he heard grunts and gasps, snarls and spitting, sounds of damage inflicted and damage received.
They were almost to the airship when he forced himself to look back again. The creature was staggering after them, coming as swiftly as its damaged limbs could manage, its cloak shredded. Bandit lay stretched on the ground behind it, unmoving. Damp, glistening patches of blood coated its still body. Tears filled his eyes, and the boy made himself run even faster.
Khyber was already aboard the airship, hacking at the anchor ropes with her long knife, freeing the vessel of her moorings. Pen climbed the ladder so fast he couldnât remember later whether his feet had even touched the rungs. His eyes searched everywhere. There was no sign of Cinnaminson.
âGet us out of here!â Khyber screamed at him. âItâs coming!â
Pen leapt into the pilot box, fingers flying over the controls. He unhooded the diapson crystals as an exhausted Tagwen tumbled onto the deck, gasping for breath. Khyber cut away the last of the anchoring lines. On the plains below, their pursuer was closing on the ship in a terrible, hobbling rush, the bloodied knife lifted into the moonlight, a low wail that sounded like a dog in pain rising from the dark opening of its hood. Pen threw the thruster levers forward, feeding power to the parse tubes, and the
Skatelow
lurched and began to rise.
They were too slow. The creature caught
âPen!â Khyber screamed in warning, appearing abruptly out of the maze, rushing into the meadow and turning toward them.
Then a huge, dark form catapulted out of the trees behind them, a blur of gray and black that rippled and surged like the darkest ocean wave. Hugging the ground in a long, lean shadowy flow, it intercepted the creature so quickly that it was on top of it before the other knew what was happening. With shrieks that caused the hair on the back of Penâs neck to stand straight up, the two collided and went tumbling head over hindquarters through the long grass. Roars and snarls and a terrible, high-pitched keening followed as both scrambled up, clots of earth and grass flying in all directions.
âBandit!â Pen breathed in disbelief, the name catching in his throat as the massive moor catâs masked face wheeled into the light, muzzle drawn back, dagger teeth gleaming.
The creature was up as well, and moonlight flashed off a strange knife held in one gnarled hand, its blade as silver as the crest of waves caught in sunlight, its edges smooth and deadly. In the glow of moon and stars, Pen could see it clearly, and he knew at once from its unnatural brilliance that it was a thing of magic.
Bandit never hesitated. Enraged by whatever animal instincts the creature had provoked, determined to see the thing torn apart before backing away, it closed on its enemy with a scream that froze Penâs blood. In a knot of rippling fur and billowing cloak, the antagonists tumbled through the grass once more, locked in a death grip that neither would release.
âBandit!â Pen cried out frantically, seeing the knife flash as it rose and fell in short, choppy thrusts.
âRun, Penderrin!â Tagwen shouted at him, pulling on his arm for emphasis. âWe canât wait!â
The boy obeyed, knowing there was nothing he could do to affect the battle between the creature and the moor cat. Remembering Cinnaminson, he tore his eyes away from the struggle. With Tagwen panting next to him, he raced for the
Skatelow.
Bandit had been following them all this time, he thought in wonder. Had the moor cat come into the high country solely because of their chance meeting and his few halting attempts at communication? He couldnât believe it.
Behind him, he heard grunts and gasps, snarls and spitting, sounds of damage inflicted and damage received.
They were almost to the airship when he forced himself to look back again. The creature was staggering after them, coming as swiftly as its damaged limbs could manage, its cloak shredded. Bandit lay stretched on the ground behind it, unmoving. Damp, glistening patches of blood coated its still body. Tears filled his eyes, and the boy made himself run even faster.
Khyber was already aboard the airship, hacking at the anchor ropes with her long knife, freeing the vessel of her moorings. Pen climbed the ladder so fast he couldnât remember later whether his feet had even touched the rungs. His eyes searched everywhere. There was no sign of Cinnaminson.
âGet us out of here!â Khyber screamed at him. âItâs coming!â
Pen leapt into the pilot box, fingers flying over the controls. He unhooded the diapson crystals as an exhausted Tagwen tumbled onto the deck, gasping for breath. Khyber cut away the last of the anchoring lines. On the plains below, their pursuer was closing on the ship in a terrible, hobbling rush, the bloodied knife lifted into the moonlight, a low wail that sounded like a dog in pain rising from the dark opening of its hood. Pen threw the thruster levers forward, feeding power to the parse tubes, and the
Skatelow
lurched and began to rise.
They were too slow. The creature caught
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