The Missing Kin by Michael Pryor Read Free Book Online Page B

the
creature's water-slick hide. He had enough time to
throw up his hands before it hit him.
    Numbly, distantly, while his head rang like a gong,
Adalon wondered if this was what being struck by an
avalanche felt like. He tumbled over and over, limbs
and tail flailing, then he, too, slammed against the
wall. For a moment he lay on the floor writhing in
pain, but he soon realised the pain was mostly from
being winded. He dragged himself up and stood,
swaying, trying to order his thoughts.
    A roar split the air. For an awful moment he
thought the creature had managed to catch Simangee.
Then he realised that the sound came from Targesh.
    His friend was standing to one side of the monster,
just beyond its reach. His legs were firmly planted,
his arms spread and his head was lowered in the
challenge stance. For a Horned One, the challenge
stance was the declaration of defiance when all
looked lost. If this challenge failed, if the foe refused
to retreat, the Great Charge would follow, the last
desperate effort to uphold the Way of the Horn.
    Adalon wasn't about to let his friend face this
alone. He tottered toward him, determined to stand
shoulder to shoulder.
    Then Targesh did something Adalon did not
believe possible.
    With a great bellow of anguish, his friend seized
his right horn with both hands. Another cry ripped
from Targesh's throat, a cry of horror, agony and
immense loss, as he twisted and pulled. A loud crack and his horn broke near its base.
    Targesh dropped to one knee, clamping down
on the roar that threatened to burst from his throat.
Blood streamed from the ruined stump of his horn
and ran down his neck shield. He threw back his
head and howled, but managed to climb to his feet,
cradling the broken horn. He took two ragged steps
toward the monster.
    Staggering, Targesh drew back his arm. He
paused a moment and, through the mask of blood,
Adalon could see the agony on his friend's face.
Then Targesh threw the broken horn as if it were a
spear.
    As soon as it left his hand, the broken horn
burst into flame. It hurtled at the monster like a
thunderbolt. With the sound of a thousand cymbals
it struck, and the creature shattered.
    Adalon ran toward Targesh, ducking the
fragments of rock that were flying through the air.
His friend was on his knees, head bent, eyes shut,
groaning. He sagged as Adalon took hold of him
and it was only the arrival of Simangee that stopped
the Horned One from tumbling into the water.
    Adalon blinked in the sudden light that came
from where one whole wall had been knocked down
by the monster's demise. Targesh lifted his head a
little and opened one eye. 'Gone?'
    'Yes,' Adalon whispered. 'But what have you
done?'
    'What I had to,' Targesh said and his eyes closed.

Nine
    With some distaste, Wargrach studied the two
saur standing in front of him. One was a Longneck
with a hand missing. The other was a Plated
One with a hideous scar across his brow. 'I need
information,' he said to them. 'What have you found,
Varchog?'
    The Long-neck twitched – a horrible jerking
action. 'Well, my lord, it's been difficult – '
    'I don't want to know about your troubles. I want
to know what's going on.' Wargrach hadn't provided
chairs in the tiny, windowless room off the main
banqueting hall, just to keep the two saur uneasy. He
was perfectly happy propped on his tail, arms crossed.
'And you, Irjag? What can you add? You've had
plenty of time to cement your position here in High
Battilon. Now I'm back, I want your news.'
    The Plated One swallowed and glanced at
Varchog. 'My lord. We did your bidding. When you
left High Battilon after removing Lord Ollamon
we came and found lowly positions. I'm in charge
of the castle gardens. Varchog has been travelling
through the Eastern Peaks and the rest of Thraag as
a grain merchant. No-one suspected that we were
your agents.'
    Wargrach snorted. 'I hope not. Spies who are
known to be spies are useless. Remember that I
rescued you after your discharge from the