Tara K. Harper - Wolfwalker 1 - Wolfwalker

VIP免费

2024-12-01 0 0 583.37KB 269 页 5.9玖币

侵权投诉

file:///K|/rah/Harper,.Tara.K.-.Collection/Tara%20K.%20Harper%20-%20Wolfwalker%2001%20-%20Wolfwalker.txt

Ember Dione maMarin:

Dark Flight

Oh, moons of mercy, moons of light Guide me in the darkest night Keep me safe from evil spirit Send

your blessed light to sear it

Oh, moons of mercy, moons of might If in shadow, dark, or night, My body die with evil near it Send

your light to guide my spirit

It was dark, and she could not see. She could not hear for the roaring in her ears, and she could not

move. Oh, moons of mercy, moons of light . . . She tried to spit out the panic but choked on grit and fur

and dirty blood. Guide me in the darkest night. . . Struggling, she dragged a breath into her lungs, and

then the fright that held her frozen burst and she screamed, the sound suffocating in the black death

above her. Keep me safe from evil spirit. . . The body that pinned her to the ground was too heavy; she

panicked and thrashed under it, straining back and forth to break free. Heat ate at her legs. She realized

then that—oh, gods—the roaring in her ears was fire. Send your blessed light to sear it . . . And then the

pain stabbed, rhythmically, with her pulse, throbbing, driving each second of terror deeper in her mind.

Fire ... A joint-ripping yank tore her free of the dead worlag, her ragged breathing punctuated by the

fire's crackling, while sobs racked her body and the tumbling brands spread the flames and fed her panic.

The worlag's body shifted again, rolling toward her, and she jerked back in horror. Moons of mercy,

were the dead rising to

2 Tara K. Harper

claim her? But the sudden movement sent a black wash of pain over her head, and she could barely see

where the shadows of brush beckoned. With a silent scream against the agony, she slid into their sharp

embrace like a broken doll, her teeth bared to bite back her shriek and her breath still caught in her chest

from the frozen grip of fear. On the other side of the fire a worlag turned, its bulbous eyes searching.

There was blood on the soil, blood on its claws. It hesitated, and then a waft of throat-choking smoke

curled between them, hiding her where shadows of deep roots pressed against her back, steadying her as

the burning forest swallowed her body and the blackening waves swallowed her mind. All she saw, all

she heard, was the worlags tearing and snapping at the broken bodies and burning wagon, the flame-lit

canvas and clothes.

Pain. Burning, crushing pain. She crawled, cringing under the brush, clinging to the gray shadow of the

wolf that urged, carried, dragged her on. This way . . . through here . . . She could not focus her eyes, her

mind anymore. Wait. . . duck. . . There was blood on her hands, her clothes, her face. Hurry . . . The

roaring in her ears kept rhythm with the growls of bloated woiiags feasting in the obscenely dancing

file:///K|/rah/Harper,.Tara.K.-.Collection/Tara%20K.%20Harper%20-%20Wolfwalker%2001%20-%20Wolfwalker.txt (1 of 269)14-7-2004 1:30:31

file:///K|/rah/Harper,.Tara.K.-.Collection/Tara%20K.%20Harper%20-%20Wolfwalker%2001%20-%20Wolfwalker.txt

light behind her, and the snap of human bones was the death drum in her ears—she did not have to look

back to see the hairy forearms that dragged to their knees when they stood and the other, spindly middle

arms that tore at the riding beasts like the cutters on a farmer's plow. Their beetle jaws dripped blood and

tendons as they fought over a body. Ember Dione whimpered and dragged on. It was dark.

Night voices flickered in and out of her ears. But the gray shadow led her on when she cried out, and the

rough tongue licked at the pain till she fell into the dark fire of her pulse, where the black heat blinded

her. Blood, thin and warm, dribbled down her face and slid into her ear, and as the noise drowned, the

dark again became complete.

It was dawn when she woke, her head throbbing dully, the air green with morning dusk. Her slender

body was curled in (he growth of a deadfall, her gashed leg stretched stiffly out to one side and her black

hair tangled in the twigs. A sharp branch stuck into her cheek. Against her back, the gray wolf was

warm, proof of the early chill that was seeping through the moss and the calm that greeted her wakening.

No burned-out wagons met

WOLFWALKER 3

her eyes; no smoldering fires caught at her ears. Just the blood that stiffly soaked her clothes and the

pain that killed her thoughts.

And she remembered . . . Her brother, Rhom, torn apart like abird under the worlag's raging jaws. The

slim woman bit back the sob, clenching her fists and closing her eyes. Oh, Rhom . . .

She forced her eyes to see again, forced her mind to admit she had seen him die. The worlags . . . She

had seen him fall, slashing and cutting with his sword under the force of the beasts that tore him apart

while Gray Hishn ripped at a monster's black carapace. And then the worlags closed in and the wolf

jumped clear and her twin—he was gone. Just like that. Dead. Rhom, the merchant, the guards—

everyone, she told herself harshly, everyone dead but her.

Her throat grew tight against the agony that racked her like a rising storm shaking a fragile house, and

she pushed the thoughts away, curling closer into the wolf's thick fur. Was this the grief of death? she

asked herself- The blinding ache? The Gray One's fur lay gritty against her tears, and she wondered if

she was crying for the mangled bodies of those she once knew or the empty disbelief that her twin was

dead. "Survive first," she whispered, gripping Gray Hishn's coat in her white-knuckled fist. "Then deal

with the dead."

When she woke again, her mouth was parched into wrinkles and her tongue felt dried, stuck to the roof

of her mouth. She pushed herself up on her side and rolled over, clenching her teeth against the jagged

blast of pain that greeted her. Her leg felt crushed, and her head felt split. But it was the cluster of bisects

feeding off the filthy scabs that turned her stomach. Hurriedly she fought down the flash of nausea and

scraped them off, brushing her hands on her pants while they skittered angrily back into the shelter of

the moss.

file:///K|/rah/Harper,.Tara.K.-.Collection/Tara%20K.%20Harper%20-%20Wolfwalker%2001%20-%20Wolfwalker.txt (2 of 269)14-7-2004 1:30:31

file:///K|/rah/Harper,.Tara.K.-.Collection/Tara%20K.%20Harper%20-%20Wolfwalker%2001%20-%20Wolfwalker.txt

Her movements awakened the wolf, whose ears had already begun to flick at her thoughts. Gray Hishn

rose, and the woman felt the creature's hunger and thirst double her own. She fingered the few weapons

left in her pouch, a bleak look on her face as she realized again her position. But die woiiags must have

been gone or Hishn would have long been alert. Go eat, she told the wolf, pushing a clump of long,

black hair out of her eyes. /'// be all right till you find dinner.

Dinner for both of us, the Gray One promised, flashing her

4 Tara K. Harper

the double image of two wolves with furry rabbits hanging from their teeth. The haggard young woman

managed a smile at the compliment, and the wolf melted into the woods, the gray hunter's impressions

of the forest filling her head with soothing images: cool dirt under silent footpads, soft leaves brushing

against fur. Muscles tensing and shifting as trees and downfalls shaded siitted yellow eyes from the

evening sun; the tangy scent of a deer herd on shadowed grass . . .

The wolfwalker's head cleared further, and she remembered again the night, the death. Her throat went

tight. Rhom! she thought with despair, raising her fist to her forehead and pressing as if she could drive

away the memories or hold back the tears with the pressure of her hand.

But the snap of a brittle twig brought her abruptly back, and she froze, her breath pressed against her

chest from the inside. She held' it without moving while the leaves rustled—it was a mottled badgerbear,

slinking by not ten meters away, its brainless head swinging from side to side as it searched for a place

to set its trap. With its gaping maw hidden under its flattened stomach, it tasted the ground for the trail

of a careless hare or young deer. Or a wounded human. The blood on the trail-surely it would be dried

and tasteless already. Or would the badgerbear sense her fear from where it paused there on the game

path, its sightless eyes swinging her way . . .

Abruptly she pulled herself together. Ember Dione, she taunted herself harshly, trying to control her

shattered nerves. So eager to Journey with your brother. Well, you're here now and alone because of it.

Get your act together and face the world you wanted or crawl back to the village where they said you

belonged.

The Journey—the test of a young man's courage and skill. Rhom's sanction to see the world outside his

home. Whether he came from a village or a city or a floating town like those of the southern sea people

didn't matter. Only that he explore and return to tell his story to his father at the council fires, from then

on to be counted as a strong voice in the circle of judgment. But Dion had not had to go with him.

Women had their own Journey of sorts: the Internship, which let them test their own skills and prove

their worth to the city of their choice. Dion had already taken her own Internship—but the elders had

chosen her to go with her twin on his Journey, as well. And now, only Dion

WOLFWALKER 5

file:///K|/rah/Harper,.Tara.K.-.Collection/Tara%20K.%20Harper%20-%20Wolfwalker%2001%20-%20Wolfwalker.txt (3 of 269)14-7-2004 1:30:31

file:///K|/rah/Harper,.Tara.K.-.Collection/Tara%20K.%20Harper%20-%20Wolfwalker%2001%20-%20Wolfwalker.txt

would return to tell their story to their father. Dion, the wolf-walker, she thought bitterly. Dion, the

healer. Who could not even save her own brother.

She lay still for a long time after the badgerbear had passed. At last, when a half hour had withered

away, she hooked her finger into the rough bark of the tree, then rolled onto her left knee.

"Moons have mercy," she gasped. Her breath strangled with the waves of speckled darkness that

pounded her head. Seconds—minutes?-—later it cleared to dim patches, and she pulled herself up

against the tree and sagged, fresh blood spreading heat down the side of her face. It felt as if the only

thing that held her pounding head together was the silver band that circled her brow. Blue and silver—

that was for the healer's band—and gray, the color of wolves. She snorted and looked at her hands where

the dirt blackened her nails and her strong, shapely fingers were trembling and marred with blood.

Healer and wolfwalker, yes, but weak and sorry as a newborn pup. With her head resting listlessly

against the rough trunk of the tree, the woman stared down at the bloody gash that had laid her leg open

almost to her hip. It was a filthy wound. The dirt and blood had matted together to make a muddy scab

that floated on the open slash. Where the wor-lag's claw had reached through her guard, it had torn into

her skin like a knife splitting a ripe fruit, and she wondered vaguely if the gellbugs had started a nursery

in the wound already. It would be too ironic if she, a full-fledged healer, died from gellbugs after

surviving a worlag attack in which the guards and fighters had been killed.

She steeled herself to touch the jagged slash. She had treated too many ragged wounds to flinch from the

gash in her leg, but mis was the first time she'd had to treat herself, and she was not sure she had the guts

to do it without screaming or the stamina to finish it without fainting. Now, as she tried to bare her thigh

to see how bad the throbbing wound was, she stifled a groan. The leather of her leggings was stuck fast,

glued by clotting blood and dirt, and the herb pouches she groped for were not to be found. She must

have lost them in the fight the previous night. The fight . . . The worlag tore at her leg and she screamed,

and Rhom turned and went down—"Oh, dear moons, help him," she whispered.

6 Tara K. Harper

She shook her head, then wished she had not when the dizzy blackness drew its vefl across her eyes

again. But she could not escape the images that crossed her closed eyes. Rhom's sword as it cut through

the worlag's casing. His face, eyes wide and flashing, as he went down under the monsters' claws. Dion

took a ragged breath. What's done is done is done, she thought, the words echoing like rocks bouncing

down a canyon's steep cliff. -Empty words. Rhotn! she cried out silently. Hishn, I need you.

The gray wolf answered like the touch of a leaf brushing against soft skin. It eased her anguish but left

the breath of her twin behind, too. Did she deny his death so much that she could not let him go? What

would she tell their father? She let her head tilt back against the tree, and the shaft of pain that lanced

through it brought her back to reality as abruptly as it had sent her into a pain-racked swoon a moment

earlier. How could she tell her father anything if she did not heal enough to survive the journey home?

She opened her eyes. As she tightened her jaw, she drew on the stubborn strength that had sustained her

file:///K|/rah/Harper,.Tara.K.-.Collection/Tara%20K.%20Harper%20-%20Wolfwalker%2001%20-%20Wolfwalker.txt (4 of 269)14-7-2004 1:30:31

file:///K|/rah/Harper,.Tara.K.-.Collection/Tara%20K.%20Harper%20-%20Wolfwalker%2001%20-%20Wolfwalker.txt

through the long night and regarded the open gash one more time, then braced herself against the rough

tree and pulled leather from the thickening scab. Only one gasp escaped her clenched teeth. When she

got enough material to dig her broken fingernails into the claw-slashed pants, she gripped the slippery

leather sternly and peeled the legging back. And fainted.

"Oh, gods . . ." she breathed unsteadily as she came to again. The fiery agony that shrieked in her leg

was worse than she had imagined in her nightmares. Even with acupuncture, some of the pain gates were

never completely closed, and with her needles scattered like the bones of the dead, she could not even

think about closing her nerve gates before dealing with her wounds.

Rhom's wounds . . .

Desperately, Dion pushed the thoughts of her twin aside to deal with the pain of the present. Yet her

eyes took in the empty forest first, and her heart almost stopped as his burly form jogged around the rise

until she recognized the heavy biped bulk of a timin instead. She closed her eyes tightly and tugged at

the leather on the other side of the gash.

It took another gasp and a half-sobbed groan to split the leather from the jagged flesh while the sweat

broke out on her forehead.

WOLFWALKER 7

It took almost all her nerve not to flinch each time the sledgehammer crushed her veins with her

heartbeat as she peeled the leggings back. But the pain stalled her grief, and the woman was grateful for

the respite. Leaning back against the tree, she took a deep breath to calm the trembling hi her hands, then

shook her head to throw off the drop of sweat that clung to her nose. She was not yet ready to touch the

raw gash that had split her leg so deeply—it had been all she could do to get her pants away from it, let

alone start clearing the dirt and twigs that clogged it from her fear-fed flight. But the longer she waited,

the more the drying blood from the reopened wound would add to the problem.

Blood. The color was red, bright red. How much blood had spilled from her brother? A deep sob

climbed up in her throat and choked her, and this time she did not fight it down. "Oh, Rhom," she said,

clenching her fist against the tears till her knuckles were white and bloodless.

The wolf, regarding her with eyes as yellow as the second moon, nudged her hand. Be strong, Dion.

It was Hishn who spoke but Rhom's voice she heard, as clear as if he were standing beside her. She

squeezed her eyes shut and denied the agony again. That was what he had told her the first time she had

run the Crush River with him and felt the white water from the uncertain seat of a kayak. It was what he

had whispered when she had faced the weapons masters for the Challenge and Test of Abis those two

long years before. And it was what he had told her when they had clung to the Randonnen cliffs and dug

their fingers into the rocks after the stone had broken off and she had fallen on that last tragic climb.

file:///K|/rah/Harper,.Tara.K.-.Collection/Tara%20K.%20Harper%20-%20Wolfwalker%2001%20-%20Wolfwalker.txt (5 of 269)14-7-2004 1:30:31

文档加载中……请稍候！
如果长时间未打开，您也可以点击刷新试试。

下载文档到电脑，查找使用更方便

5.9 玖币 0人已下载

立即下载 VIP免费下载

摘要：

file:///K|/rah/Harper,.Tara.K.-.Collection/Tara%20K.%20Harper%20-%20Wolfwalker%2001%20-%20Wolfwalker.txtEmberDionemaMarin:DarkFlightOh,moonsofmercy,moonsoflightGuidemeinthedarkestnightKeepmesafefromevilspiritSendyourblessedlighttosearitOh,moonsofmercy,moonsofmightIfinshadow,dark,ornight,Mybodydie...

展开>> 收起<<

Tara K. Harper - Wolfwalker 1 - Wolfwalker.pdf

共269页,预览5页

还剩页未读，继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

Tara K. Harper - Wolfwalker 1 - Wolfwalker

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: