The terrible idea had never occurred to Corrus, but it did now. Whoever was hunting her, Corrus was already starting to hate him. Taking a calming breath, Corrus tried to let the peace in his aura infuse her own. “Will you let me tend your leg? I don’t know if your kind can get infected, but I would rather not take that chance.”

  Distrust was thick in her eyes. Her whole-body language screamed her unwillingness to let anyone close.

  Eryis appealed to her, “He has a kind touch. He’s mended me more than once, and the villages all around the forest trust him with their children.”

  The fox-girl darted her eyes back and forth, a small crack in her armor showing.

  Corrus touched his own chest. “I’m Corrus, Cleric of Jamira. This is Eryis, a long-time friend.”

  Fighting herself inside, the fox-girl uttered, “Tallia”, then clamped her mouth shut as if cursing herself for daring to give away that much.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Tallia.” Corrus put on his softest smile. “I ask for nothing. Only to soothe away the pain.”

  Again, there was that inner fight in her eyes. Until, at last, Tallia’s head nodded up and down in a quick little jerk before going still.

  Eryis knelt next to her, moving slowly. Her own hand reached out first and laid upon her bare knee. “Fear not. His touch is sweet.” She glanced up at Corrus, sharing a private smile with him.

  Corrus knew she was trying to help, but right at that moment, the effect was more a challenge. He heard the double-meaning behind her words, and saw the playfulness in her smile. He remembered all the cold nights they had spent sharing warmth. Seeing her laying her delicate touch on the other woman’s leg wasn’t easy to ignore. All the more stimulating because of the shapely leg she touched; though there was a slight difference in the muscle structure that would let Tallia leap far stronger than a normal human, there was no denying the sexual appeal of her bare skin displayed so openly to his eyes.

  Summoning his deepest reservoir of self-control, Corrus also knelt, though he remained near her feet. Forming his hands into a circle, he placed them onto the injury. But by the time he made contact, his near-silent pleas to his Goddess’s power had already turned his palms a bright sapphire-white. Rather than flinch away in pain, Tallia made an immediate groan of relief as holy power washed away the sting of the snare. Soon, there was only healthy, lightly freckled skin where the angry wound had once been.

  Corrus pulled back and whispered a last thanks to the True Lady for trusting his judgement in who was worthy, then met Tallia’s gaze with a smile of his own. “Feel better?”

  The fear and pain in her face had transformed into near worship and joy. Faster than the eye could follow, Tallia crushed against him in a shameless, naked hug. Into his ear, she whispered, “Oh, thank you! You have… no idea what it is to be hunted like this. To see treason and betrayal in every face.” She squeezed tighter, before finally settling back on her haunches. She blushed a little at taking such liberty, but tried to explain, “It’s why I left the wild-realm in the first place! It’s never-ending there. Always hunting. Always hiding. Always running. It’s why my kind like coming here. Like what your kind call a vacation. Here the wind is wonderful. You can close your eyes in the breeze without fearing to die from the lack of vigilance!” Then, she ducked her head with a shy smile, one of mild shame. “And there are so many bright and shiny things to have!” Her chagrin showed at the admission.

  Eryis’s own smile brightened. “Ohh! You’re a kitsune! A fox spirit from the wild-realm! I’ve heard stories.”

  Corrus glanced at her. “You know of her kind?”

  Eryis nodded, “Though from those stories alone. They are known to have… well, a wicked sense of humor, shall we say? And a fondness for sparkles.” She giggled.

  Tallia flushed a little more, her blush was not the same deep red color as a human’s. It showed easily on her pale, freckled skin, blending right in with her flame-orange hair color. But despite trying not to let it out, a cute, gushing smile emerged, “Those things are so pretty…” Then, she dissolved into an embarrassed laugh. The thought of glitter and sparkles reminded her of what she loved of the mortal world. She turned insistent. “I can’t go back! Nothing glitters there!”

  A hard, uncompromising male voice stabbed out from the forest. “If you stop running, I would make you mine. I would shower you with such gifts.” The imposing, robed figure that was Merrax strode out of the woods. His hand was out, a crystal ring on his first finger glowing brightly from within; her hair trapped inside shimmering its natural color a thousand times more brilliantly than it should have.

  Squealing in sudden terror, Tallia scampered backward behind Corrus. “Stay away from me!”

  Merrax drifted to a halt, ignoring Corrus and Eryis, speaking only to her, “There is no denying fate, and yours is with me. If you will not be mine, then you will see the wild-realm all too soon. A hundred years, Tallia. If I banish you here, then a hundred years will pass before you can return. A hundred years you must survive the hunt without your soul being torn apart by monsters far worse than me.”

  Tallia cuddled against Corrus’s back. He could feel the heat of her breasts pressed into him, though she shivered violently in fear. Corrus didn’t need to hear her speak to know what she wanted. This was the one who had set the snares. There was no doubt. And she was rejecting him as completely as a cat rejects water.

  He remained crouched down, not wanting to raise this into open conflict without the chance at parlay, but also to keep himself as a better shield for Tallia. He straightened his back, imposing himself between the man and his prize. “Begone from here. She wants nothing of you.”

  Merrax acknowledged him for the first time. “Do not stand between me and what is rightfully mine!”

  Corrus, “You’ve travelled a long way, stranger. I can tell. Because around these parts, we’re not friendly with the idea of owning anyone.” It wasn’t totally true. There was the shadow trade of slaves, little talked about but feared by lost souls like Eryis had been. But few of those poor souls taken in the dead of night remained nearby. Most were shipped over the seas to realms more forgiving of such things.

  Merrax sneered at him, but didn’t ignore him. He was beginning to realize the cleric didn’t intend to remove himself from the situation that easily. “Who is she to you?”

  The cleric shrugged, “My name is Corrus, and my faith demands that I be true to myself. I’ve never been one to stand by and watch bullies take what they want. You seem like the ‘taking without asking’ sort. Callingshire is my home. My home, my rules. If that upsets you, there are plenty of trails that lead out of here.”

  “The woman will have told you that I am not one to broker deals with fools. Merrax is a name well-respected to no less than three kings for the wonders I have crafted for them. The Emperor himself has blessed me with an audience. His soldiers will raise a hand to stop me from hauling her away, nor in destroying anyone who stands between me and her.”

  Corrus insisted, “You may regret those words, Merrax of such ill fame.”

  Merrax sneered again. “As may you. Lads! Show them the error of their ways.” He gestured in a circle.

  His warriors emerged in a loose circle around them. A total of six, all of them dressed in rugged attire that had seen some use, speaking to their nature as veteran travelers. Two of them held crossbows in loose but ready grips, while the others were handling the hilts of their swords, ready to draw them if the command was given.

  Corrus’s expression shaded over with disappointment and anger. “This is so stupid. You could walk away. No one has to die here!”

  Merrax barked a laugh. “You had your chance to beg.”

  The cleric’s jaw clenched tightly. “I don’t beg to thieves.” He raised a finger, pointing at the glowing ring on the artificer’s hand. “I can feel the resonance within that. Most of the time, the aura around stolen objects are weak. But you’ve brought out its inner power, haven’t you?”

  Merrax gnashed back at him, “I told you, she’s mine. Everything that is hers is also mine! From the sweat on her nose to the tip of her fluffy little tail! Understand?”

  Corrus’s shed a cold smile at him. “Let the magic decide.” He touched his holy symbol, and uttered a hushed prayer.

  Instantly, Merrax began to scream. The blazing light from the ring was no longer just radiant, but also burned with equal intensity. The artificer’s skin ignited, melting down to the bone. The torch that was his flesh burned up his hand, peeling back the layers to reveal the skeleton beneath, then scorching that black as well. The first finger with the ring melted away completely, and the crystal circle dropped into the grass where its light extinguished.

  Horror filled Merrax’s cries, and he dove for a nearby patch of dirt. Digging his limb into the ground, he tried to smother the judgmental flames threatening to consume his who arm.

  The slavers surrounding them were stunned by the brutality of the magic. They might be veterans, but the display of divine power mutilating their powerful leader stunned them into inaction.

  Neither Corrus nor Eryis wasted that time.

  Eryis read his intent, and her wings had draped low enough to hide the crossbow she had readied. With an explosive push of her legs, she leaped into the air and flapped her wings with strong, pulsing beats. She strengthening rapidly in the last year, and though she could not quite stay airborne for long, she had the power and endurance to pound the air and climb high enough to then glide a good ten to twenty yards. Now, she launched up high enough to gain a deadly firing angle. Bringing the crossbow on aim, she fired a firebolt into the face of one of the slavers. The firebomb at the end exploded into his beard, and his hair and scalp lit up like a bonfire. His screams had even better effect, as a second member of the crew died under the terrible pain of flames.

  Having no time to reload, she dropped the crossbow, unclasped her hatchets, and hissed with fury as she folded her wings and dove at another slaver. Landing on his shoulders, she hacked into his head and shoulders with the steel edges, felling him like a tree.

  Corrus was equally aggressive, if a little less acrobatic. He stormed the nearest slaver, bashing his mace into the man’s ribcage. Reversing the swing, he shattered the other side. Another reversal, and this time the blow forced already broken ribs into the man’s lungs and vitals.

  Leaving him to choke on his own blood, the cleric spun away from a slaver’s sword slash. This slaver’s survival instincts had kicked in, and he had drawn his blade in a rush. His first cut was frantic, poorly aimed but enough to make Corrus retreat away from it. He raised the blade again, but Corrus met this one head-on with his own weapon. His ball of hardened steel was more than a match for the worn blade it struck. The slaver’s weapon snapped in two, leaving him little more than an awkward dagger. Giving him no space to recover, Corrus charged in. He bludgeoned the man on the collar bone, on his arm, and finally landed a heavy blow to his cheek that broke his jaw for certain, and possible crushed more within his brain. He dropped, out of the fight either way.

  Corrus sensed another slaver coming at his back, and he anticipated some pain.

  But Tallia wasn’t helpless. Terrified? Yes. Hunted to an inch of sanity? That as well. But as she saw others fighting for her, a sight she hadn’t ever seen before, her courage and fury ignited in a whole new way. She pounced on the slaver, her claws tearing into him where she could find vulnerable flesh around his boiled leather armor. He tried to fend her off with a dagger, but she slashed his forearm brutally. The blade dropped… and then she had a dagger. With a vicious stab, she drove it into his neck. She was crying as she did it, screaming in pain as much as vengeance.

  The last of them ran. Whatever Merrax was paying him to torment lost souls wasn’t worth his life.

  Eryis disagreed. Snatching up her crossbow along the way, she launched herself after him, looking feral as she was drenched in the blood of her hatchet victim. She vanished into the woods, turning the hunt against the hunter.

  Corrus clutched his mace, then walked determinedly toward the cowering form of the artificer mage. Sucking in deep breaths to calm himself after the short spurt of battle, he towered over the man cradling his blackened hand to his chest. “Shall I grant you mercy? Were our positions reversed, I dare say you would not do the same.”

  Merrax snarled back at him, half-blind and fully mad with pain. “I have friends! Powerful friends! Do you think this is over? When they realize what you have done, they will end you!”

  Corrus shook his head sadly. “I know little of the world. But the idea that anyone will miss you enough to come find you instead of simply stealing all you own and replacing you with another? I imagine the world you live in, and that seems like a risk I’m willing to take. We’ll see who is right in the end.”

  Screaming in wordless anger, Merrax snatched into a pouch at his waist. His good hand came out with a palm-full of small glass orbs, practically buzzing with unstable violet energy. He hurled one at Corrus.

  Reacting in the only way he could, Corrus smacked it with his mace. The glass shattered and a sonic blast detonated in the air. Half of his mace was turned into slag, the fragments scattering away into the grass around him. He was forced back three full steps, and his arms windmilled to stay on his feet.

  Merrax still cradled his hand as he struggled to his knees. He hurled two more of the explosive beads at Corrus. Not wanting to be near another of those blasts, Corrus hurled his ruined mace back at him, catching one in midair. It exploded between them, knocking him back to his behind and Merrax off his knees and back to his side again. The second globe was poorly aimed and flew well to the side, but the impact rattled Tallia and Corrus both, hitting right between them.

  Cackling insanely, Merrax flipped his hand, and sent all three remaining glass orbs soaring through the air at them. “We’ll see who visits the lower hells first!”

  Corrus saw the throw, and rolled frantically toward the fox-girl. “Get close, Tallia!” She twirled toward him on the ground, and he threw his arms around her even as he implored his Goddess to shield him from the coming destruction. A dome of white-blue radiance appeared above him. The orbs smashed against it, one after the other. The thunderous detonations were mostly dispelled, though some of the force still made it through to hammer the senses of the two hiding beneath. Each concussive blast sapped more of Corrus’s energy as he channeled more and more of the divine energy needed to stave off death.

  The attack had given time for Merrax to regain his feet. His face contorted with pain and blind rage, and the artificer mage tugged a steel-ribbed rod from within his robes. Smacking it against a nearby tree, the tree trunk exploded with the added, concussive force the magical rod could deliver. “See that? I’m going to crush you like bugs in a – aracckkkk…”

  His threat ended in a choked slobber. The point of an arrow protruded from his chest, having pierced right through from his back. The thunder-rod fell from his fingers which suddenly lacked the strength to hold anything. Merrax collapsed to his knees, confusion written plain on his face.

  Behind him, Eryis lowered her crossbow with satisfaction. “Whatever he was saying probably wasn’t that important.”

  Corrus had been struggling to rise, but suddenly unleashed a dark laugh and fell back to his knees. “That’s what I call good timing.” Fatigue sapped at his consciousness. He wobbled with the light-headed feeling. He had channeled too much power too quickly, added with the stress of a life-or-death moment.

  Tallia darted up to his side, clutching to his side and holding him up. “I can’t believe you did that! You could have been killed!”

  Haze still tingled the edge of his vision. Half-drunk on the light-headed sensation, Corrus chuckled. “Only matters that I wasn’t.”

  Eryis pranced through the thick underbrush toward them. “Crazy fool. You can’t resist getting us into these sorts of things.” It was phrased like a complaint, but her smile was a fond one.

  The grass near Merrax rustled. With a gasp of dying breath, the bleeding, dying creature that had once been a confident mage bucked up from the ground and snarled, “If I can’t have you then none shall!” He aligned a tube with his mouth and with his literal dying breath exhaled sharply into it. The dart flashed across the space between them and buried itself in Tallia’s neck. With a rattling laugh, Merrax collapsed to the ground in a motionless heap.

  Tallia’s eyes flew open in shock. She clutched at the dart and tugged it free. Staring at the tip, she saw the pungent green goo staining the tip. She spasmed once, then sobbed as her breath caught in her swollen throat.

  Corrus snatched the dart and gave it a hard look. He grimaced. “Night adder venom. Thickened and concentrated. She’s only got seconds.”

  Indeed, Tallia was already starting to shake and shudder. Unable to stay upright, she lurched right off her knees and practically out of Corrus’s arms. He fought to cushion her fall to the ground.

  Eryis implored him, “Heal her!”

  For one of the only times in his life, Corrus cursed as he realized his faith wouldn’t be enough. “I can’t. I’ve already channeled too much. I would give my life for her if I could, but I’d be dead before I burned half that shit from her blood.” He was clinging to her hand, but suddenly his fingers slid right through Tallia’s own. She was too insubstantial to hold onto. He murmured in sorrow. “She’s already fading from this world.”

  Eryis’s eyes lit up. “You need to bind her!”

  “What?”

  “Remember what Kallomo was explaining when we brought him his supply order from town?”

  “He was droning on about spirit melding. Linking sprites to brooms and such for a day so they could do chores before letting them go.” The man was goodly enough, not one to trap those spirits for longer than a few days to do his bidding. Corrus thought he walked the line of that same idea of slavery, which was probably why he never felt the need to truly become the man’s friend. The reclusive mage had some strange ideas.

 

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