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The Chronicles of Kin Roland: 3 Book Omnibus - The Complete Series Page 10


  “So are we going?” Rickson asked.

  Bear stared at the boy, but Kin answered, “I can’t leave you up here with Clingers marauding through the forest.”

  Rickson smiled nervously.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “CLA-VEN-DA.” Droon leaned close. His teeth brushed her mouth. Saliva dripped from his sharp incisors. Sounds clicked deep in his throat when she didn’t answer. “Cla-ven-da.”

  She turned her face away.

  He squatted over the young woman, dripping venom on her cheek, bending his face to hers to make her understand his words. He held a squirming rabbit by the neck.

  “Hungry?” Each syllable rasped from his throat, stretching vowel sounds and carving consonants from the back of his teeth.

  She whimpered and jerked her face the other way.

  “Eat.”

  The rabbit struggled. For a small creature, its fear was very good. Its heart raced and the strong leg muscles were gorged with blood. Cla-ven-da began to weep. Droon’s frustration mounted.

  “Czaa, czaa, hauak,” he cursed. “Eat!”

  She closed her eyes and thrashed to get free, but he pinned her to the ground. Her body twisted one way and then the other. He retracted his claws slowly, paused, and struck the side of her head, careful not to render her unconscious. She continued to fight, but he was too strong.

  Droon commanded her attention by extending his claws. “Why did you take me beyond?” He looked at her face and marveled at the strength of her wings. “Dangerous. You must eat and take me back to Kin-rol-an-da.”

  “I would have taken you farther from here, if the way was not blocked,” Cla-ven-da said. She held her arms across her chest and attempted to draw her wings in, but Droon stood on them. The portal had blinded and deafened him, but he had sensed the movement of armies, rivers of destiny, and faraway places. Most of all, he had sensed Cla-ven-da’s fear. She had seen something during the wormhole crossing.

  “I must go back,” Droon said.

  She smiled at him, her eyes full of malice. “I could try the portal again, but you might want a ship first. Without me, you would die in space.”

  “No tricks,” Droon said, but he realized she’d never help him. He should kill her before the incessant chattering of the Clinger on his back drove him crazy. The creature hungered for her, wailing in Droon’s mind like a siren. “No tricks.”

  Cla-ven-da looked past Droon, searching the night sky. He thought she waited for someone — Kin-rol-an-da, perhaps — someone to help her. “Will he come?”

  She seemed surprised when Droon named Kin-rol-an-da but said, “My people will come and you will die.”

  Droon looked around. Mountains loomed above the pass. Lights danced in the sky. “Your people won’t come. Something blocks them. I felt it in the portal beyond this place. I felt your fear and surprise. You wanted to trap Droon, but you failed.”

  Cla-ven-da trembled in his grip, filling him with a strange emotion. Her eyes drew him in. His pain eased. His heart slowed and the terror of his burning home world seemed far away. Droon relaxed and wondered at the woman with falcon wings. He had never felt this way.

  The Clinger stretched over his shoulder, reaching for the woman. It whispered Cla-ven-da’s name in Droon’s mind. An image of Clingers curling around her body came to him. The Clingers in the image flexed in unison and Cla-ven-da’s flesh tore from her skeleton. Other Clingers rushed forward to slurp her blood and guts.

  Droon had seen many images of how Clingers fed since bonding with the hive queen, but this was something different. They hated Cla-ven-da more than any creature.

  Droon grabbed a fist full of the living cloak and squeezed until it retreated. He felt pain through their connection, but welcomed it, even as he feared the unnatural bond. He commanded the Clinger to spread. Obeying, it slowly covered most of his body.

  The Cla-ven-da woman watched in horror. Her fear stank wonderfully, but he couldn’t eat her yet. He was lonely. She couldn’t stop the loneliness, but she could almost stop it. He would try again when she was stronger.

  “You must eat. You must take me beyond,” Droon said. The words took a long time, but she quit her struggle and listened.

  “If I could call the wormhole again, I would escape,” she said. “Something powerful is trying to control it. There will be a storm.”

  Droon believed she didn’t expect him to understand. But he did. Human speech wasn’t hard to understand. Making the words was hard. Thinking was hard.

  But I am learning.

  “Mate. We mate. You heal me.”

  “No mating. I could heal you, but you would not be the same.”

  Droon crouched over her for a long time. He narrowed his eyes and studied her. This winged human wasn’t like those who destroyed his home world or the others who took his kindred away. She wanted to heal him. She needed to heal him. He thought this woman fed on healing just as Droon fed on fear. “Stay.” He turned his back to her.

  “I will not stay. You cannot carry me and escape Kin.”

  Droon whirled and jumped on her. He grabbed her throat, pushing her head against the rocky ledge. “Stay, or I kill everyone.”

  He left Cla-ven-da on the ledge. The clinging parasite on his back wanted the woman, but he wouldn’t allow the monster to have her. He needed someone to handle the ship now that the pilot man was dead. She had no ship but could go beyond. And he needed a mate before he could heal from the far-sickness that came when his kind left home.

  Cla-ven-da wasn’t a good mate, not of Droon’s kindred. She could heal his wounds and his sickness, but could not heal the far-sickness or be a true mate, no matter what the Clinger promised in his dreams. The Clinger wanted to eat him. The Clinger wanted to eat her. Droon laughed, grinding his teeth, clicking and rattling with his throat. He could try to mate with her. That would make her more afraid.

  He climbed down the cliff, perching where the tallest tree reached up from the valley floor. He watched Kin-rol-an-da in the distance and considered the human who destroyed his world. The humans called Droon’s home Hellsbreach, but it was just another word of creatures that talked too much.

  He stared down at the man who had burned his home world. The man didn’t cry now. He didn’t shake his fists at the sky and yell angry words. Kin-rol-an-da had been eaten by women for three days, but they put him in the birthing pit and he healed. He escaped. He killed. He set the fires.

  Droon wanted to eat Kin-rol-an-da, even if he was the Last Man, the end of the Long Hunt. Kin-rol-an-da was the only one to know the home world. Droon clenched his fists and shook them as he shook his head.

  He didn’t want to forget his home. Kin-rol-an-da would remember. Droon didn’t understand how he could forget or precisely what forgetting was. If he ate Kin-rol-an-da, he might remember better, but how would Kin-rol-an-da remember if he died?

  Droon needed the blood of Kin-rol-an-da before he rejoined the ten-thousand-warrior pack so he could become first among them, but he didn’t understand if Kin-rol-an-da needed to be alive.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  BEAR led the way without explaining where they were going. Kin followed and watched the shadows. He thought he knew where his friend was taking them and didn’t argue. Bear hardly made a sound as he moved. He paused to stare up the trail before looking around. Then he nodded and continued. Ogre stalked beside him, sleek and silent, but oddly playful.

  “What’s he doing?” Rickson asked.

  “Listening for the Reaper,” Kin said quietly. He followed behind Bear as though a single sound would doom them all. Rickson wasn’t as quiet.

  “Or Clingers. He said there were Clingers out here,” Rickson said.

  “Clingers don’t leave their valley.”

  “But he saw them.” Rickson walked sideways to see down a side trail and then walked backward for a few steps. He spun around and hurried to catch up. “Why would he say he saw them if he didn’t?”

  Kin ignored Rickson and watched
Bear reach the top of the trail. The steep path forced Bear to put one hand on the ground for balance as he went over the top.

  “Why’d he say he saw a Clinger?” Rickson asked.

  “Because he did.”

  “But you said they don’t come out of their valley.”

  “Be quiet.”

  They emerged at the top of a narrow canyon that twisted downward. Bones were scattered across the path like the pavement of a road. At the bottom, the canyon widened into a field of evergreen trees that had lower branches gnawed off. Silence held the bone yard as though even the wind feared to trespass.

  “Where are we going, Bear?” Kin asked.

  Bear shrugged. “We need horses. I figure if you haven’t caught the Reaper by now, it’s because you can’t. So, we need horses.”

  “And we have to go through a den of wolves to get them?” Kin asked.

  “I can handle of wolves. I’m a shepherd,” Rickson said.

  Bear crouched, watching and listening for danger before he responded to Rickson’s boast. “These aren’t Earth wolves from your ship’s menagerie. They didn’t just escape and turn feral. These are native wolves. Hold your breath; hold very still and look down there, right now. Do you see it?”

  Kin saw a huge wolf creeping between the trees. Its fur looked like steel wool combed into sheets of razors. Others followed behind, moving silently in a formation with military precision. Bear had told him about the local wolves, but Kin had never seen them. His first impulse was to compare them to the Reapers. It could be a good fight. The thought of facing one of these creatures filled him with dread, but he didn’t think they could rip a man out of assault armor and eat him still screaming.

  “So where are the horses?”

  “Near the water, if the wolves haven’t eaten them. I trained those animals to walk on rope bridges if necessary and these monsters stole them,” Bear said.

  “Why would they do that?” Rickson asked.

  “To attract other monsters; snakes, mostly. Crashdown wolves love to eat snakes,” Bear said. “But they also eat horses if they’re hungry enough.”

  “And shepherds who don’t listen,” Kin said.

  Bear laughed.

  “Hah, hah. Maybe you can kill them with your stupid jokes,” Rickson said.

  Kin looked at the boy. “Who do you think they would catch first?”

  “Not me. I can run faster than him,” Rickson said, pointing at Bear.

  “But you don’t know where you’re going. Hard to get away running in a circle,” Bear said.

  Rickson forced a queasy smile. He looked at Ogre. “Shouldn’t you be growling or something?”

  The dog’s tongue hung out of his mouth.

  Kin moved around the top of the trail and watched the wolves prowl out of sight. The narrow valley curved out of view, although Bear claimed substantial meadows existed beyond the bottleneck with waterways and other spectacular sights. Bear told grand tales, especially after a few mugs of mead, but the details were usually consistent. Kin thought he could piece together an idea of what to expect from the landscape. The challenge would be getting past the foot of the trail, an area patrolled by a score of wolf monsters.

  “How smart are they?” Kin asked.

  Ogre huffed.

  “Smart enough to keep watch in shifts and leave bait in traps,” Bear said. “You can’t parley with them, if that is what you’re hoping for.”

  Kin removed his binoculars from his belt and studied the floor of the valley, the steep walls around it, and the clouds that drifted near distant peaks. He lowered the binoculars and saw Rickson near the top of the trail, staring intently at the scene below. Kin winked at Bear, smiled, then adopted a serious expression.

  “The only way we can do this is to send Rickson first. Once the wolves chase him, we can move in and steal the horses,” Kin said.

  “I don’t like that plan,” Rickson said without looking up.

  Bear laughed.

  Rickson continued, “Why don’t we send the Reaper down there and steal the horses while they fight.”

  “Good idea,” Kin said. “Bear, go ask the Reaper if he would help us.”

  “Right away,” Bear said, but he didn’t move.

  Rickson edged back from the trail and challenged Kin. “This would be a lot easier if you’d ask for help. Clavender is going to get killed because you’re too proud to let Fleet troopers take the glory. They could catch the Reaper and kill it before dinnertime, but we’re out here trying to steal horses that are probably already dead. I know wolves — whatever kind they are — and they don’t leave meat on the hoof for later.”

  “These do,” Bear said.

  “Just because you live alone and don’t take baths doesn’t mean you’re some kind of wise man,” Rickson said. “It only means you stink.”

  Bear laughed loud enough for the Crashdown wolves, or even the Reaper, to hear. “I like this boy, Kin. Why haven’t you brought him up before? I’d have to box his ears a few times, teach him respect, but he’s opinionated, and I like that.”

  “I watched you and Kin get drunk once,” Rickson said.

  Bear looked at Kin questioningly.

  Kin shrugged. “He’s a bit of a spy.”

  He knew Rickson was right, mostly. He wasn’t sure the Fleet troopers could catch Droon. In a battle, the discipline and technology of modern soldiers was hard to resist. Generally, it took a Fleet trooper to beat a Fleet trooper, but Reapers were fast. They never got tired and never slept.

  How could he explain to a provincial boy that had not seen the inside of a spacecraft since he was a child that the Fleet always came first? Commander Westwood would drop a nuclear bomb on Crashdown and leave if it suited his strategic objective. The people of Crater Town should be praying their interests were exactly the same as the Fleet’s interests.

  “Why do we need the horses again?” Rickson asked.

  Bear eyed Kin before saying, “We’re trying to catch a Reaper. In case you haven’t heard, Reapers are fast.”

  “You’re just using Kin to get your horses back,” Rickson said.

  Bear grabbed the shepherd by the back of his collar and hoisted him onto his toes. “You better look me in the face when you make an accusation like that. As it happens, I could get the horses myself. I just haven’t gotten around to it.” He dropped Rickson.

  The boy stumbled, gripping his staff with one hand, flailing the other for balance.

  Kin turned to Bear. “So what’s your plan?”

  Bear eyed Rickson for another moment, then stepped to the edge of the trail that dropped toward the valley floor like a slide. He pointed at the walls of the valley to his right. “There is a trail this way. We can follow it, then drop down near the lake. It’ll take a bit of climbing, and if you fall, you’ll die. It looks like you’d have a chance to grab one of the ridges or land in those tree tops, but don’t kid yourself. You fall, you die. So, don’t fall.”

  Kin examined the path Bear described, noting the foot and handholds. There was even a stretch of trail a bit wider than a rope. That’s comforting. “How long will this take?”

  “Couple of hours until we start the descent. A couple more to get down. The wolves don’t look up often, so as long as they follow their normal patrol route, we should be able to reach the horses without problems.”

  “And how do we get them out?” Kin asked.

  Bear smiled. “That’s the easy part. All we need to do is ride them through a little waterfall.”

  “Can you climb that, Rickson?” Kin asked.

  “I can climb anything he can climb,” Rickson said.

  “Now, that sounds like a challenge.” Bear popped his knuckles, then rolled his shoulders.

  “You go first, then Rickson. I’ll go last.”

  Rickson stared at him defiantly. “You think I won’t go.” He strode toward the questionable ledge that led across the wall of the valley.

  “Now hold on, boy. I have to go first. You don�
�t know the way. Kin is doing it right. Any military commander would do the same. Put your best first and your second best last. That keeps everyone together. No shame in it.”

  “That’s not how I would have put it,” Kin said. “Just watch where Bear puts his hands and feet. Don’t take chances. Go slow.”

  They looked at Ogre, who was panting happily, enjoying the sudden attention. He whined when no one spoke.

  “He’ll be all right,” Kin said.

  Rickson shook his head. “We can’t leave him, not out here.”

  Kin knelt and petted Ogre for a long time.

  “This sucks,” Rickson said.

  “He’s probably the only one who will make it home,” Kin said.

  “Rickson could take the dog back,” Bear suggested.

  “Too dangerous.” Kin worried about the dog but trusted the animal’s instincts. Ogre came and went as he pleased, sometimes disappearing from Crater Town for days at a time. He kept his attention on the dog, avoiding Rickson’s pleading gaze.

  “If it’s too dangerous for me, then it’s too dangerous for him,” Rickson said.

  “Not the time to argue,” Kin said.

  “Whatever. We can’t leave Ogre up here with Clingers, Reapers, and Crashdown wolves,” Rickson said.

  “The wolves are down there and we don’t know where the Reaper is,” Kin said. “Run home, dog.”

  Ogre settled down with his face on his paws.

  Kin massaged his forehead, remembering the scene outside the Valley of Clingers — dogs howling in pain as Droon gorged himself.

  “Maybe I could carry him,” Bear said.

  “You can’t carry him.” Kin stroked the dog and stepped back. “Go find Laura.”

  Ogre looked away, hesitated, and then started to move. He stopped several times, looking at them, but eventually headed back the way they had come.