The Silvered by Tanya Huff Read Free Book Online Page B

would fix this.
    Then they came out of the woods, and the blood scent hit him like a physical blow. Blood. And shit. And fear. And memory. He stumbled, but Ryder ran on, so Tomas pushed the terror back and followed. He could see the Aydori line, shattered in places, the living sheltering behind bulwarks of the dead. He could see the Imperial army advancing, another score of infantry in reserve to replace every man shot down. He could hear gunshots and cursing and an Air-mage screaming on the breeze.
    There were bodies in fur where the dead lay thickest and death too thick in the air to know if any Pack still lived.
    He saw Imperial cavalry charge the exposed Aydori flank. They’d held the horses back then, until they thought the Pack was dead. Hackles up, Ryder raced to intercept, Jaspyr and the cousins following. But Tomas had caught another scent. Knowledge warred with instinct. Knowledge won, sending him away from his Pack Leader toward enemy lines.
    Toward the weapon that had killed Harry.
    A line of pain burned across his shoulder, but the ball was only lead and the wound healed as he ran.
    He pushed off a fallen Imperial, breastplate keeping the body from compacting under his weight, and threw himself up over the heads of the corpse’s company. Heard the Aydori infantry rally behind him and knew that, with them returned to the fight, he needn’t fear a bayonet in the back. Dodged through chaos, still at full speed.
    The impossible range of the new weapon kept it back from the front lines. Far enough back there’d be no reason for a heavy guard.
    Speed and agility and the terror the Pack evoked in the unfamiliar kept him alive as he moved deeper and deeper into the Imperial ranks. The part of him trained to war recognized the Imperials’ fast advance had opened up their lines and that worked to his favor.
    The weapon, up on a small rise, didn’t look like much. A fat tube on a cradle. The men around it smelled of curiosity and excitement, distant from the death they were dealing. Men who fought with heads instead of hearts. They smelled of gunpowder, familiar but a more concentrated scent than he was used to.
    They smelled of silver.
    He had to circle around behind the weapon to approach it.
    Heard a man with a telescope shout, “There, a black beast! Huge bugger! And a gray one! I see four, no, six abominations with them!” And then coordinates. Tomas thought they meant him at first, then realized the big black beast had to be Ryder.
    But Ryder and Jaspyr and the others were safe in among the Imperial cavalry,
    They wouldn’t shoot their own horses, their own men to bring their enemy down.
    He thought that right up until they lit the fuse.
    His teeth crushed the gunner’s wrist a moment too late.

    The carriage slowed and slowed again as the ponies struggled up the long, steep hill through Whelan Forest. Not that they’d been moving all that fast since leaving the city. As far as Mirian could see, the biggest difference between those on foot and those on wheels wasn’t speed, but possessions. Lord and Lady forbid the wealthy not take the good dishes and silver and linens when fleeing for their lives.
    Although, in all fairness, the less than wealthy had made a valiant attempt to carry their possessions with them. A wide variety of objects had been discarded by the side of the road even before the road left the city. Pots and pans, bundles of clothing, a bed—Mirian was impressed they’d gotten it as far as they had—a single shoe, a striped stocking, a broken confectioner’s jar still half filled with red-and-white candies. Fortunately, the people no longer moved packed tightly together in a solid line of desperation as they must have through the night. The stragglers didn’t even look up as the carriage passed. Too many carriages had already gone by, and they were still walking. When they passed two women with three small children, the youngest screaming his displeasure to the world, Mirian’s mother