Tarashana Rachel Neumeier (top 10 motivational books TXT) 📖

Lau reach, and in the same breath Suyet caught his knife in his left hand, stooped low and drove the knife into his enemy’s side. The shadow made no sound when he cried out; these enemies were voiceless as well as bloodless; but he jerked back.

Then Suyet tried to straighten, but fell, his features slackening. His enemy’s weapon had cut him much more badly than I had realized. He was on his knees and one hand, trying to get up, but the shadow warrior swept forward, sliding in and out of moonlight and shadows. The enemy struck Suyet down and lunged past him, toward Aras and the women.

Rage took me. A roaring filled my ears. Tano was still shouting—only half a heartbeat had passed—but I did not have time to attend to his warning. I had no choice but to leave the one warrior for Aras—I already faced another, and he was blindingly fast. I barely evaded a slashing blow from that claw-weapon that might have torn across my stomach and ended the fight very badly. I stabbed at my enemy, but he blocked my blow—

Tano tackled me, kicking me behind the knee to force me down, grabbing my sword hand so I could not reflexively strike him. I was far too astonished to fight him, but twisted to throw him off and get up. The shadow warrior lunged forward, lifting his sword for the killing stroke—

— the roaring storm of the shiral crashed upon us, tearing us all away from the earth, shredding every shadow and hurling the rest of us violently into the sky.

 -19-

Rightly is the shiral called the whip of the gods. This time, the blow was so unexpected and fell so hard, it seemed to shatter the whole world. Tano clung to me, and I wrapped an arm around him, but we were torn apart almost at once. I tumbled, curling myself into a ball, expecting any moment to smash into stone, but the rain had followed the wind, so violently that if some other blow struck me, I could not tell it.

Then the storm was past, rushing away into the distance, the cessation of violence almost more shocking than its arrival. I was lying on the ground, on some surface, clenched tight in a knot, my face against my knees. My ears were ringing with the stunning silence the shiral leaves in its wake. Uncurling myself, I staggered to my feet, as stiff as though I had been beaten all over with clubs, but I could stand. I still held my sword, somehow. I had tucked myself tight around the weapon. I was lucky I had not cut myself badly. I would have been wiser to throw the sword away when the storm struck, but now I was glad I had not lost it and brought the blade up to a guard position, looking quickly all around the place where I stood.

But I found no enemy to face. The shadow enemies, the strange Saa'arii warriors, were gone, destroyed or scattered by the storm.

Tano was gone as well, which I had known. I did not see anyone, nor anything I recognized. I stood now in a valley meadow, with only a little snow lying here and there across the grasses. It might have been the valley where we had rested, except there was no waterfall or stream, and when I looked again, I saw this valley was wider. On all sides, mountains reared to the sky, pale stone streaked with milky ice. If one of those mountains was Talal Sabero, I could not tell it.

Now that the shiral wind had passed, the sky was clear, luminous with moonlight and starlight. The Moon, still enormous and very bright, had finally shifted her place in the sky. She had come down at least a handbreadth, but I could not tell whether she had stepped toward the west or the north or the east. I could tell nothing about where I stood in the world. I was completely lost.

I began to turn in a circle, meaning to look as carefully as I could until I saw something, some shape of stone against the sky, the ugly smear of the shadow of the Saa’arii tide, anything at all that might look familiar. But when I moved, I realized I felt a sharp pain. I looked down. My shirt was slashed to bloody ribbons across my stomach. I had hardly felt the injury until that moment, but of course I felt the pain far more vividly as soon as I saw the blood, as one will. The injury felt serious enough now. I pulled off my shirt to look. Three narrow slices across my stomach told me which blow I had failed to evade. I was very much annoyed with myself. I had thought I had leapt back fast enough, but plainly the shadow warrior had been faster than I had realized.

The wounds were awkward to examine. But I gathered a handful of snow to clean the blood away and slow the bleeding that continued—not much blood, so that was good. I used my fingertips to assess the cuts, trying to judge how deep they were. The snow helped the pain, but not very much. I set the pain out of my mind. The injuries were not too deep. The weapon had not cut through all the fat and muscle into the gut. But if I had had thread, I would have taken time to close at least the lowest of the wounds. That one was deep enough that it might be dangerous if I had to fight again.

I did not have thread, nor a needle, nor any other supplies. Almost everything had been in the remaining packs. I did not even have one waterskin. That had been inexcusable carelessness. I should have carried one separately from the pack. I should have made sure everyone