[Firebringer 03] - The Son of Summer Stars by Meredith Ann Pierce Read Free Book Online

stallion’s path. Jan managed to veer ahead of Lell, shield her. Korr plunged past in a dusky blur, a waft of rank air, a snatch of bright teeth and a slash of horn. Jan swung his head with all his might, brought his own weapon down with force enough to knock his assailant’s skewer aside. The blow clamored, reverberating in his skull.
    He felt the bite upon his neck begin to bleed, the long shallow rent across his chest blaze hot with pain. Beside him, Lell—scarcely half his size—dodged, trying to get around him, seeking to fall upon their attacker herself. Korr skidded, wheeled. Jan rushed him, mostly to keep himself safely between his young sister and the king. The black prince slapped hard at his sire with the flat of his horn, pounded him with his heels, driving him back, away from Lell and the others.
    At last, with a despairing cry, the mad king shook free, wheeled, fled across the valley floor and up the far hillside. Lightning shattered the sky. Rolling thunder pealed. The wind lashed, flailed. Rain became a downpour. Stunned, the herd broke and scattered, scrambling for haven in the caverns and hollows of the surrounding slopes. Without a moment’s hesitation, Jan sprang in pursuit of his sire. Desperately, Tek galloped to intercept him.
    “Jan,” she cried. “Hold. Forbear!”
    The young prince scarcely checked. “Nay,” he cried furiously. “Nay, not this time! He’ll not evade me more. I’ll have the truth if I must chase it to world’s edge! Take charge of the herd, Tek—I’ll return as soon as may be.”

5.

    Rain

    Rain hammered down. Jan’s cloven heels bit into the soft hillside, sliding on slippery turf. Thunder crashed. Wind whipped at him. Having long since lost sight of Korr, he gained the trees. Jan shook his head, teeth champed, panting with effort. The downpour was blinding. A glimpse of shadow through the trees ahead. He dodged after it. Treeboles gave way once more to rocky slope. Above, a gaunt figure struggled to the hillcrest and vanished over it. The young prince redoubled his efforts, loose, wet rocks kicking from under his heels. As he topped the rise, rain pummeled him anew. Snorting, he pitched to a halt.
    Below him lay the Pan Woods, home to Sismoomnat and Pitipak’s folk, the two-leggèd goatlings. Until a few short seasons ago, the pans had been among the unicorns’ bitterest foes. Now both peoples enjoyed free forage through one another’s lands. Gazing down, the prince’s eye met nothing but dark woods, sprawling toward horizon’s edge through a grey curtain of rain. He listened, but discerned nothing above the deafening downpour. For all the king’s haggard appearance, he made swift quarry.
    The young prince cast back over one shoulder at the Vale, lying deserted in the rain. He eyed the council rise, empty and small-seeming, about which he and his fellows had lately parleyed and danced. He marked his own cave on the hillside below, where Tek and the twins now doubtless sheltered, and felt a twinge. Impatiently, he shook it off. He would be returning in a few hours—at most a day or two. Just as soon as he had found his sire and wrested his terrible secret from him. Surely then all could be put to rights. Jan set his teeth. Without another thought or backward glance, he plunged over the hillcrest into the dark Pan Woods.

The trees rose thick around him, dripping with moisture. The morning’s deluge had subsided at last to a pattering drizzle. Jan trotted along a streambed, seeking tracks. He had combed for hours in widening circles, hoping to come upon his sire or sign of him, or else to encounter friendly pans from whom to ask news or aid.
    Jan splashed to a halt in the middle of the stream and bent his long neck to drink. The water tasted cool in the humid summer air. He shook his sodden coat for perhaps the twentieth time. His head reeled. He had not slept in an evening and a day. It was long past noon. Jan stumbled out of the streambed. He had followed