Wrath of the White Tigress by David Alastair Hayden Read Free Book Online

decimated by the inexorable approach of the northern desert.  
    Zyrella chalked her own symbols onto the walls: twisting runes that channeled the geomantic forces in her surroundings and called upon the divine powers of the great deity Kashomae, the Gentle Savior. After Zyrella finished, Ohzikar fastened a sheet of canvas over the cave entrance. Then he joined her at the back of the cave where water, shimmering like liquid fire, trickled into a small pool.  
    "That should mask our firelight." He frowned at the small pile of brush, dung, and coal. "Not that we'll be burning much."
    "I'll conjure sunlight into a stone tomorrow." Zyrella didn't let on to Ohzikar that she was utterly spent. Making a sunstone would tax her, and an apprentice sorcerer could handle such a task with ease.
    Ohzikar turned his gaze to a pallet set into a nook two-thirds of the way back into the cave. There, Jaska the Slayer tossed and moaned and salivated through high fevers and nightmares that kept him too exhausted to rise and eat. Zyrella had healed his wounds, but his damaged psyche kept him immobilized.
    "Palymfar will come for him soon," Ohzikar said.
    Zyrella pictured Jaska's brilliant amber eyes, and a shudder of passion spread through her body. As she mastered this strange, bewildering attraction, she knew she would revisit the feeling and could never abandon this man who was supposed to be her enemy and the most evil person alive, save for his master.
    "Does it really matter whether he is with us? They will come for me anyway. Hopefully by then he can help us."
    "No good will come from him."
    Zyrella stroked Ohzikar's hand. "You heard what Elanzar and his daughters said. Jaska saved them and would not abuse them, claiming he was a true palymfar."
    "Enh. He was just lying to earn their trust. He needed their help."
    Zyrella groaned and walked over to her patient. Charay had helped her tend him during the most critical hours as Zyrella patched his wounds with magic. She didn't know how long Jaska would be incapacitated. He might yet worsen and die, though she believed him too resilient for that.
    Ohzikar sorted through supplies and checked over their gear. His foul mood had worsened since the family's departure. Their company had distracted him from brooding about his fallen brothers. Ysemi had followed Ohzikar like a puppy, as most youths did, and he had taught her everything he could about watching for bandits and choosing safe campsites. Then he had instructed all three refugees on wielding the short swords and knives they had taken from the dead bandits.
    In exchange for their help in transporting Jaska to the cave, Zyrella had blessed them and their donkeys. She also gave them the bandits' meager rations since Ohzikar had taken food, money, and gear from the packs of their fallen comrades. He had also recovered Jaska's pack, which they had happened upon by chance.  
    Suddenly, Jaska's eyes snapped open. Firelight cast them a brilliant gold and showed the madness within. He wrenched his hands, kicked his feet, moaned and thrashed. Sweat poured from his forehead, saliva drooled from his lips. A soul-tearing scream burst through his inflamed throat. "Qaavvrraa!"
    Ohzikar pinned Jaska's hands when he began clawing at his throat. "What the hell's happening to him?"
    Zyrella stroked Jaska's brow. "I'm not sure."
    Jaska yelled repeatedly for his qavra, writhed, and snapped his teeth together. Ohzikar leaned his weight onto him. Zyrella dipped a cloth into the spring and wiped Jaska's brow while chanting a simple spell of calming. After half an hour, he settled and returned to sleep.
    Ohzikar stalked outside to watch for enemies. After resting a bit, Zyrella joined him. "He will sleep for some time now, I think."
    "Has his evil nature returned?"
    Zyrella sat back and admired the thousands of stars that twinkled in the sky above, except for a patch currently hidden behind the full disk of the shadowed moon. With her charcoal surface, Zhura