Interlude IX

Nuada scrubbed both hands across his face, then stared at the enormous brown and gold bird on a wooden perch in the center of the tent. She stared back, eyes focused on him as if he were her prey. He didn't look away, seeking something inside the red eyes.

"This isn't you." He took a step closer. "Come back. Please."

The bird hunched over and raised her wings, the splayed feathers knocking against a tray with bowls of water and raw meat. With a sigh, he moved away and used a pole to drag the tray within his reach. Frowning, he checked the water level and the amount of meat.

"You can't keep on like this, sweet one." He emptied the water out of the tent flap and refilled the bowl from a waterskin, then replaced the meat bowl with a fresh one. Once refreshed, he pushed the tray back within the bird's reach.

The bird mantled, flaring her wings again, but settled when Nuada stayed clear.

Sighing, he exited the tent and stepped into the bright sunshine. His feet squelched on the grass-covered surface but came away clean with each step. Around him, the camp clung to the edge of the newly emptied lake, safely on the wide levee that had helped contain the river. Their former camp lay downstream beside the ruined millhouse, teetering on the edge of the washed-out millrace. The wheel lay in the canal with puddles of water showing where the sluice used to run. Clogged with debris from the broken dam, the river ran stubbornly along the path where the overflow channel used to lie, as well as the chewed-away gully between the sluice and spillway.

In the new camp, robed men and women walked around the evenly spaced tents, and several giggling children ran past together. One stopped long enough to offer a crumpled yellow flower, which Nuada accepted with a murmured thanks and a tousling of hair, before racing after the others. The smile that had twisted Nuada's lips faded.

Pounding feet drew his head toward the river.

A woman sprinted up and gasped, "The scouts… one returned. Marc and Thom are headed over in the rowboat."

"One? They went in pairs" Hurried strides carried Nuada toward the bank.

"Maybe?" She fell in next to him. "Marc swore it was his niece, but she was gone by the time I got there."

"You saw nothing?" Nuada spared a glance at the woman.

"No," she said. The woman's breathing eased as she kept pace with Nuada, and she glanced back at the tent. "How is she?"

"No different." Nuada focused on the river. "She might have drunk some water."

"And you? Have you eaten? Slept?"

A barked laugh escaped before his lips clamped into a thin line.

"You're no good to anyone if you can't see straight."

Nuada shook his head and paused at the rocks that had reinforced the sluice, shading his eyes against the lowering sun. With a frown, he climbed onto the rocks, balancing against their shifting, and crossed to the shattered remains of the dam.

"Nuada…"

"Isamu…" he mimicked, then cleared his throat. "There's something strange going on. I can't quite see from here."

The woman hesitated before following, and they climbed across the storm-ravaged wreckage.

Poised at the balance-point of a shattered log, Nuada had the vantage he needed; across the roiling floodwater on the other dike, twin ribbons of darkness tore into a pile of crimson-stained cloth. When the rowboat grated against the rocks at the levee's base, the darkness froze, revealing it to be two red-eyed, ebony ferrets. Then they scurried over the edge toward the men climbing out of the boat.

"By the Way!" Nuada breathed, then shouted, "Get back in the boat!" He waved his arms. "Get away!"

The men turned and waved back, then resumed their ascent.

"No!"

The first ferret wrapped around one man's leg, scrambling up. Shouting, the first man fell back into the second, and the next ferret launched itself into the fray as they crashed back onto the rocks.

"What is it?" the woman asked, unable to see past Nuada.

"Infected." Nuada muttered a few words beneath his breath and his hands began to glow. "Get the others. Quickly."

He hurled off the end of the log, flying into the open air above the river. As gravity dragged him down, a glowing disk formed beneath his foot, and he used the patch of hardened air to propel himself up and further across the gap. Another disk appeared, and another, until he landed on the sodden earthworks on the far side.

Sparing a glance at Tyr's corpse and the remains on the litter, he charged down the hill, intent on the Infected ravaging his clansmen.

"Marc!"

The man on top of the pile looked up, and his wide eyes narrowed. He seized the ferret that clawed at his torso and flung it at Nuada. Nuada's glowing hands came together, and a spinning vortex caught the Infected, tossing it high in the air. A sharp crack rent the clear air, and a shock of lightning flashed toward the ferret, grounding itself in the beast's writhing flesh.

Nuada and Marc turned to the other Infected, only to see Thom pin it to the ground with his knife. It thrashed, shrieking and tearing against the restraining blade until Marc sank his knife into its head. The black fur rippled and changed to a garish pink with purple stripes.

Nuada fell to his knees, and the glow around his hands died. Marc patted the bloodied scratches on his arms and looked up the hill.

"Don't," Nuada gasped. "She's gone."

Marc swallowed, his throat bobbing, and his eyes glistened.

"No," Thom said. "She can't be. My brother wouldn't let anything happen to her."

"I think," Nuada said carefully, a shaking hand pressed to his forehead, "he's up there, too."

"No!" Thom scrambled upward.

Marc helped Nuada to his feet, and he swayed, nearly going down again.

"Are you alright?" Marc asked.

Nuada nodded and staggered up the hill, fingers sinking into the mud to haul himself forward.

"Summoners." Marc shook his head and followed behind, catching Nuada when the other man slipped.

At the top of the hill, Isamu held a weeping Thom, keeping him clear of the bodies. Her eyes were damp as she met Nuada's questioning gaze.

"You're not the only aero-kinetic around here," she said. "Just the strongest." She avoided Marc's eyes as he ascended the hill by glancing at the bodies. "We'll have to burn them."

Nuada followed her gaze, focusing on Grig's remains, and his head tipped. He moved to crouch next to the litter and pulled the wadded bundle of cloth away from Grig's belly, throwing it aside. The stomach cavity beneath appeared to have been eaten away, as if something had devoured the guts and clawed its way out. Nuada swallowed down bile and turned away.

Isamu had released Thom into Marc's sympathetic embrace and held the blood-stiffened cloth. Her eyes were unfocused and her breath was still. Nuada approached, inspecting the material and not touching his fellow summoner. His eyes landed on a patch of unstained blue when Isamu gasped as if surfacing from underwater.

"A Guardian!" she said, turning to face downriver. "Get the boat."