Honor-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book III ]

47

"Ealin?" Uachi rose again, his tired legs screaming at the effort. "Come and sit. We'll—"

"You said you were taking me to him," Ealin broke in. Her voice was soft and low, a heated whisper. "You said you would take me to my father."

Diarmán approached. He opened his mouth to speak, but Uachi raised a hand to cut him off, saying, "We were trying. He was supposed to be here."

"You told me you would take me to him!" Ealin repeated. "What will I do, Uachi? What am I going to do now?"

"I don't know, Ealin. We will think it through. Calm down."

Ealin should not have been intimidating, this slight woman with her hands bound before her, but she was. She didn't have the freedom to work with her hands, to call up her power, but there was something in her stance that set Uachi on edge. His fingers had just brushed the hilt of his dagger when Ealin moved more quickly than Uachi could have expected, given her recent sleepy slowness under the influence of Diarmán's drugs. She darted forward and flung herself through the air, landing in a heap over Uarria's back.

The princess did not yelp or growl. She was as silent as ever, flattened beneath Ealin's body, but she was struggling. Ealin twisted around, throwing her bound hands over Uarria's head, her looped arms a makeshift collar.

Then she closed her eyes.

Fear moved Uachi's body before he could think. He dropped his shoulder, sliding the bow down his arm as he reached with his other hand for an arrow. A short distance away, he heard the sound of steel being drawn. Uachi shifted his position, planting his feet and swiftly nocking and drawing. Within two seconds, he had a fatal shot aligned.

"Let her go," he called, his chest heaving. He drew a breath and let it out as slowly as he could, sighting along the arrow. "Let her go, Ealin, or I will drive an arrow through your skull."

Ealin drew her arms tight around Uarria's neck and lowered her head, her brow knit with concentration. The princess had stopped struggling. She stared at Uachi, her wide, her ears flat back against her head. She was terrified. It was as if she knew what Uachi did: that Ealin could transport them with magic well out of Uachi's reach.

That's when the first notes of a song broke the awful silence.

Attention turned to Diarmán at once. Uachi glanced in his direction only briefly, surprised to see the man playing his flute instead of holding the sword he had expected. Uarria rolled her wide eyes toward the source of the music. And Ealin sucked in a breath and tensed, raising her shoulders to her ears.

"Ssstop!" she shrieked. She tightened her grasp on Uarria for an instant but then, perhaps aware that Diarmán could stop her in her tracks, she yanked her arms back over Uarria's head and over her own. She pressed her forearms over her ears, her fists buried deep into her hair, and rocked her head back, eyes shut tight. "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!"

Freed from her captor and safe, for the moment, Uarria crawled backward across the grass, every line of her feline form drawn as tight as Uachi's bowstring.

Uachi did not relax. He looked at Diarmán, who met his gaze as he continued to play. Would the music bring Ealin back under their control?

But before Uachi could decide whether to let Diarmán work his fae magic or to loose his arrow, Uarria lunged. Her sleek form crashed into Ealin, knocking the woman flat onto her back.

A sharp, discordant note came from Diarmán's flute.

The music died in time for both men to hear Ealin's scream dissolve into a guttural, choking sound, accompanied by the tear of teeth in flesh. Uarria's attack had taken both of them so by surprise that they stood frozen, staring in horror, each poised to react but unmoving. The instant it took for Uachi to understand what had happened and to run toward Ealin and Uarria was too much. It was already over.

Uachi dropped to his knees, grabbing fistfuls of Uarria's scruff, but he did not dare pull her back. She had her jaws clamped around Ealin's neck. "Let her go!" he cried. "Uarria, let her go!"

The princess held on.

On the other side, Farra stood, her teeth bared and her whiskers trembling, her irises barely visible around enormous dark pupils. Ealin's white, horrified face was turned up toward the sky. Her jaw was slick with blood, her cheeks spattered, and her wide, terrified eyes rolled toward Uachi. She opened her mouth, but there was no sound but the wet gurgle of blood at the back of her throat. It bubbled, spattering Uarria's whiskers and staining Ealin's teeth, and it spilled, streaking down her cheeks and dripping into her tangled blond hair.

Never in his life had Uachi been more paralyzed than he was in that moment. There was nothing, nothing he could do. His fists tightened in Uarria's fur, but he didn't dare drag her back with her teeth so deeply buried in Ealin's flesh.

Uarria jerked her head. It was a feline motion, one that he'd Farra do a thousand times and had never thought much about. It had seemed dainty and fastidious, the way she would shake her head after picking up a scrap of meat tossed her way.

Now he understood. It was a killing move. Had Uarria captured a mouse or a bird, it would have broken its neck. With larger prey, the move could rend flesh, tear veins, and crush throats.

In shock, Uachi loosened his grasp on Uarria and let his hands fall limp to his sides. Unsteadily, he got to his feet and took several steps back, staring at the impossible scene before him.

Uarria released Ealin. Her jaws were dripping with blood. She lowered her head, sniffing Ealin's body, her ears flat against her skull. Slowly, she stepped back from the woman. She sniffed Ealin's hand, then turned toward Uachi, flicking her tail and licking her chops. She looked at him with what could only be uncertainty in her eyes.

Ealin did not move. Her throat was a bloody, torn mess, and her wide, empty eyes were fixed on the distant sky.