Tara K. Harper - Wolfwalker 3 - Storm Runner

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Storm Runner-Wolfwalker 03-Harper, Tara K

STORM RUNNER

Tara K. Harper

Tales of the Wolves 03

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Storm Runner-Wolfwalker 03-Harper, Tara K

3S XHTML edition 1.0

scan notes and proofing history

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Storm Runner-Wolfwalker 03-Harper, Tara K
Contents
|1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11|12|13|14|15|16|17|18| 
|Epilogue| 
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Storm Runner-Wolfwalker 03-Harper, Tara K

Published by Ballantine Books:

TALES OF THE WOLVES

Wolfwalker

Shadow Leader

Storm Runner

LIGHTWING

A Del Rey Book BALLANTINE BOOKS • NEW YORK

Sale of this book without a front cover may be unauthorized. If this

book is coverless, it may have been reported to the publisher as ‘

’unsold or destroyed‘’ and neither the author nor the publisher may

have received payment for it.

A Del Rey Book

Published by Ballantine Books

by Ballantine Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York,

and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada

Limited, Toronto.

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 93-90176

ISBN 0-345-37162-3

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Storm Runner-Wolfwalker 03-Harper, Tara K

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition: August 1993

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Storm Runner-Wolfwalker 03-Harper, Tara K

To Mom and Dad, with love

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Storm Runner-Wolfwalker 03-Harper, Tara K

Chapter 1

The intriguing of a voice,

sung in shadow;

pierced with a breath that

caught

in her throat…

Dion eased forward another meter. The smell of damp earth between the

new, spring grass caught in her nose. The gritty edges of the old, stiff leaves

sawed on her wrists while brittle weeds brushed against her ear. One of the

hollow stalks slipped up inside her warcap, poking her temple sharply until

she shifted forward again. Quietly, slowly, one knee, then an elbow, then

her body another length. Her heart pounded, but she knew the raiders could

not hear it; she had learned her stealth from the wolves themselves. Across

the river, watching from the edge of the forest, Hishn’s yellow eyes

gleamed. Separated by the canyon, they were linked with their senses. The

Gray One breathed through Dion’s lungs and saw through her eyes, while

the wolf-walker’s slow stalking filled Hishn’s lupine mind with the lust of

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Storm Runner-Wolfwalker 03-Harper, Tara K

the hunt. When the gray wolf growled low in her throat, Dion froze. The

scent of the raiders’ camp was faint, then stronger as the wind brought it to

the wolfwalker’s nose. When the breeze rose again, shifting the weeds in

ragged waves, Dion dug her toes into the ground and crawled forward again.

Behind her, Yagly moved softly in the late afternoon shadows. The shifting

stripes were his guide, stretching out and hiding his lurking figure in the

long black fingers of the trees. To the raiders’ eyes, he and Dion were

ghosts in the grass. Three days earlier, Yagly had gotten within ten meters

of the raiders’ guard-post. Watchful as they were, the raiders looked to the

boulders and shrubs for their enemies—they did not expect a scout to slither

across a near-flat stretch of ground.

Yagly’s faded brown eyes flickered from the raiders’ camp to the bridge

they guarded. The raiders were wary. They were right to be: for a year,

Yagly and the other Ariyens had been sneaking across the river, stealing

back their people, and trying to drive the raiders on. The dark-haired man

grinned. The bridges might not be open to cross, but he and Dion did not

use those high, stone roads: they forded the river below, then climbed one

of the canyon chimneys to reach the raiders’ land. The raiders were not of

the mountains; they did not think to watch the cliffs either.

In front of the other scout, Dion edged between the root clumps of two

shrubs, and Yagly’s gaze followed her with approval. The wolfwalker was

as silent as a thought in the brash. Her black hair blended with the shadows

as if it were part of the dark itself, and her lithe body wriggled from shadow

to shadow as if she were made of supple rope, not lanky bones. Behind her,

she left only a faint worm’s trail where the grass did not spring back before

Yagly bent it down again.

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Storm Runner-Wolfwalker 03-Harper, Tara K

With one hand on the hilt of her sword, Dion drew her blade forward beside

her, hiding its long length beneath her body when she stopped. A stone

gouged her knee and she shifted around it silently. She eased sideways for

the other scout to join her, and a moment later, Yagly’s long body lay next

to hers.

Dion scowled, adjusting her warcap with a slow shift of her shoulder. The

healer’s circlet was well hidden beneath the leather-and-metal mesh, but her

braid was frizzing between the two. The rising wind whipped loose hairs

into her eyes and across her nose until her face was tickled from brow to

chin. She blinked as old leaves whirled up and past, followed by the long,

hollow threads of winter grass, straining to break free. The pale, spring sun

slipped down in the sky. They had an hour, no more, before they would

have to ease back and cross again into Ramaj Ariye. She narrowed her eyes.

From here, she could see ten, maybe even twelve raiders in this camp. Their

shelters were sturdy; their supplies stacked neatly—this looked more like a

soldiers’ fort than a raiders’ stakeout. She eased forward another meter,

stopping at the edge of the shadow in which she hid. If there had been no

wind, they could have heard every word the raiders spoke, but the gusting

breeze brought, then stripped away, the sounds. A word, a phrase—that was

not enough to tell anything.

“I can’t make anything out,” Yagly said in her ear, “but I would bet on all

nine moons that something is up. Look at their stance. For the last nine days

—an entire ninan—they have been guarding the bridge against Ariye. Now

they stand as if they guard the crossing from those in their own county.”

“But the refugees are not due for three more days,” Dion breathed in return.

“How could the raiders know to guard the crossings early?”

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Storm Runner-Wolfwalker 03-Harper, Tara K

“Maybe it is some other poor fool, running from the camps.”

“But if the raiders are wary now,” she whispered, “the refugees will never

make it through to the Devil’s Knee.”

“If they even know to go there,” the dark-haired man returned as he eyed

the raiders’ camp.

“They know,” she whispered back. “The north scout crossed back into

Ariye yesterday. He got the message through. It was not easy, though—

there were raiders everywhere.”

“How did you pick that up?” Yagly glanced back over the river. “The

wolf?”

She nodded almost imperceptibly. Her bond with the Gray Ones was strong

enough that, like the other wolfwalkers, she could hear the packsong at a

distance. Even now, the faint gray voices echoed through her thoughts like

a winter wind in a forest.

Yagly turned his gaze back to the raiders’ camp. “Must be nice,” he

whispered. “I have to wait for the message birds or the runners to find out

anything important.”

She smiled wryly. “At least you’re not assigned down south. Gamon said

that the mud there is so thick that even the runners have to walk.”

“You will be walking in mud yourself if we don’t start back soon.” The

scout’s gaze flickered to the sky. “Rain will be here in an hour.”

Dion followed his glance. “I’ve still got forty kilometers to go to meet the

next scout on the line.”

Yagly gave her a sly look. “And ten kilometers more after that?”

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