Read Online The Daylight War by Peter V. Brett - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Peter V. Brett
Ads: Link
on your skin. Won’t fade away after a few weeks, and you ent ready for it.’
‘Who’re you to say what I’m ready for?’ Renna demanded.
‘Ent giving you orders, Ren, I’m begging you.’ Arlen knelt in front of her. ‘Don’t eat it, and if anyone asks, you tell ’em it’s poison.’
Renna stared at him a long while, unsure if she should hold him or slap the fool out of him. At last she sighed, letting her swirling emotions drift away. ‘Think on it. And won’t tell anyone else. Honest word.’
Arlen nodded, getting to his feet. ‘Then let’s hunt. Need to be holding as much magic as possible when I heal Dancer.’
Twilight Dancer was lowing in pain when they returned to the stable, tongue hanging from his mouth. His feed was untouched, and the only water he had drunk was what they had poured down his throat. He laboured for breath.
With a single blow, the mimic demon had broken the great stallion’s ribs, puncturing Creator only knew what inside, and launching him through the air. Dancer had struck a tree, breaking his back, and the fall had shattered his legs. Arlen had saved Dancer’s life with his magic, but without further help he would never walk again, much less run.
But Arlen had suffused himself with so much magic his wards glowed of their own accord, lighting the stable bright as day. He seemed like the Creator Himself as he reached for one of Dancer’s legs, pulling the broken bones into proper position and tracing wards on the skin around the fractures.
Dancer whinnied in pain as the bones and sinews knitted back together, a terrible sound Renna could hardly bear. Arlen’s glow lessened a bit with each healing, and there were many. Soon his wards dimmed, and then winked out entirely. Still he worked, his sensitive fingers running over the horse’s body, probing for places to focus his power. Dancer’s chest inflated as the ribs healed, and he began to breathe normally. Renna sighed with relief until Arlen gave a slight groan and collapsed.
He was shivering when she carried him up to bed, his breath coming in short gasps. She could barely hear his heartbeat, and the glow of his magic had faded so much she thought it might wink out at any moment. She stripped and slipped into bed next to him, clutching him tight and willing some of the magic she had absorbed into him, but it seemed to make no difference.
‘Don’t you die on me, Arlen Bales,’ she said. ‘Not after all we been through.’
Arlen did not respond, and Renna stood, brushing back tears as she paced the room, her mind racing.
Needs
magic
, she thought.
Go
and
get
him
some.
She had her knife in hand in an instant, grabbing her cloak and running out the door without bothering to pull her clothes back on. With the Cloak of Unsight around her, she was invisible to the corelings, and quickly found a field demon prowling not far from the wards.
She cast the cloak aside, and before it knew she was there, she had leapt on the demon’s back, pulling its chin up with one hand while she cut its throat. She took a bucket from the stables, draining the creature’s foul black ichor, rich with glowing magic.
Her naked skin was soon covered in the stuff, and she could feel her blackstem wards pulling at the power. She felt strong beyond belief, moving like wind back to Arlen’s side. She laid him on the floor and dumped the reeking bucket over him, watching the wards on his skin brighten and absorb the magic, then dim as his internal aura brightened. He began to breathe easier, and Renna fell to her knees.
‘Thank the Creator,’ she whispered, drawing a ward in the air.
The gesture was an instinctive one, but so similar to the way Arlen healed Dancer. If only she had been able to do the same for him.
She looked to the bucket, a slimy piece of demon gut clinging to its lip. She scooped the black thing up in her hand, poking at it like jelly. It stank, and her stomach heaved. She had to breathe deeply to keep her supper
‘Who’re you to say what I’m ready for?’ Renna demanded.
‘Ent giving you orders, Ren, I’m begging you.’ Arlen knelt in front of her. ‘Don’t eat it, and if anyone asks, you tell ’em it’s poison.’
Renna stared at him a long while, unsure if she should hold him or slap the fool out of him. At last she sighed, letting her swirling emotions drift away. ‘Think on it. And won’t tell anyone else. Honest word.’
Arlen nodded, getting to his feet. ‘Then let’s hunt. Need to be holding as much magic as possible when I heal Dancer.’
Twilight Dancer was lowing in pain when they returned to the stable, tongue hanging from his mouth. His feed was untouched, and the only water he had drunk was what they had poured down his throat. He laboured for breath.
With a single blow, the mimic demon had broken the great stallion’s ribs, puncturing Creator only knew what inside, and launching him through the air. Dancer had struck a tree, breaking his back, and the fall had shattered his legs. Arlen had saved Dancer’s life with his magic, but without further help he would never walk again, much less run.
But Arlen had suffused himself with so much magic his wards glowed of their own accord, lighting the stable bright as day. He seemed like the Creator Himself as he reached for one of Dancer’s legs, pulling the broken bones into proper position and tracing wards on the skin around the fractures.
Dancer whinnied in pain as the bones and sinews knitted back together, a terrible sound Renna could hardly bear. Arlen’s glow lessened a bit with each healing, and there were many. Soon his wards dimmed, and then winked out entirely. Still he worked, his sensitive fingers running over the horse’s body, probing for places to focus his power. Dancer’s chest inflated as the ribs healed, and he began to breathe normally. Renna sighed with relief until Arlen gave a slight groan and collapsed.
He was shivering when she carried him up to bed, his breath coming in short gasps. She could barely hear his heartbeat, and the glow of his magic had faded so much she thought it might wink out at any moment. She stripped and slipped into bed next to him, clutching him tight and willing some of the magic she had absorbed into him, but it seemed to make no difference.
‘Don’t you die on me, Arlen Bales,’ she said. ‘Not after all we been through.’
Arlen did not respond, and Renna stood, brushing back tears as she paced the room, her mind racing.
Needs
magic
, she thought.
Go
and
get
him
some.
She had her knife in hand in an instant, grabbing her cloak and running out the door without bothering to pull her clothes back on. With the Cloak of Unsight around her, she was invisible to the corelings, and quickly found a field demon prowling not far from the wards.
She cast the cloak aside, and before it knew she was there, she had leapt on the demon’s back, pulling its chin up with one hand while she cut its throat. She took a bucket from the stables, draining the creature’s foul black ichor, rich with glowing magic.
Her naked skin was soon covered in the stuff, and she could feel her blackstem wards pulling at the power. She felt strong beyond belief, moving like wind back to Arlen’s side. She laid him on the floor and dumped the reeking bucket over him, watching the wards on his skin brighten and absorb the magic, then dim as his internal aura brightened. He began to breathe easier, and Renna fell to her knees.
‘Thank the Creator,’ she whispered, drawing a ward in the air.
The gesture was an instinctive one, but so similar to the way Arlen healed Dancer. If only she had been able to do the same for him.
She looked to the bucket, a slimy piece of demon gut clinging to its lip. She scooped the black thing up in her hand, poking at it like jelly. It stank, and her stomach heaved. She had to breathe deeply to keep her supper
Similar Books
