I yelled. “The arrows are laced with Curare.”
The ambushers wanted to paralyze us, not kill us. At least not yet. The memory of being completely helpless from the drug washed over me. Alea Daviian had wanted revenge for her brother’s death, so she had pricked me with Curare and carted me to the plateau to torture and kill me.
Leif yelped nearby. An arrow had nicked his cheek. “Theobroma?” he asked before his face froze.
Of course! My father’s Theobroma, which had saved me from Alea. I ripped open my pack, searching for the antidote to Curare. The rain of arrows slowed, and a rustling noise from above meant our attackers were climbing down. Probably to take better aim. I found the brown lumps of Theobroma and put one into my mouth, immediately chewing and swallowing it.
Moon Man cursed and I broke cover to run to him. An arrow hit my back. The force slammed me to the ground. Pain rippled through my body.
“Yelena!” Moon Man grabbed my outstretched arm and pulled me to him.
“Here.” I panted as the Curare numbed the throb in my lower back. “Eat this.”
He ate the Theobroma lump without a moment’s hesitation. An arrow’s shaft had pinned his tunic to a tree.
I lost feeling in my legs. “Are you hit?”
He ripped his shirt free and examined the skin along his right side. “No.”
“Pretend to be,” I whispered. “Wait for my signal.”
Sudden understanding flashed in his deep brown eyes. He broke the shaft off the arrow that had missed him, and swiped blood from my back. Lying down, he held the shaft between two bloody fingers of his left hand which he placed on his stomach, making it look like the arrow had pierced his gut. His right hand gripped his scimitar.
Men called as they reached the jungle floor. Before they could discover me, I put my right hand into my pant’s pocket, palming the handle of my switchblade. Numbness spread throughout my torso, but the Theobroma countered the Curare’s effects to a point where limited movement remained. Even so, I lay still, pretending to be paralyzed.
“I found one,” a man said.
“Over here’s another.”
“I found two,” a rough voice right above me said.
“That’s the rest of them. Make sure they’re incapacitated before you drag them out. Dump them beside their companion in the clearing,” said a fourth voice.
The rough-voiced man kicked me in the ribs. Pain ringed my chest and stomach. I clamped my teeth together to suppress a grunt. When he grabbed my ankles and hauled me through the bushes and over the uneven stones of the bank, I was a bit glad for the Curare in my body. It dulled the burning sting as the left side of my face and ear were rubbed raw by the ground.
The Curare also dulled my emotions. I knew I should be terrified, yet felt only mild concern. Curare’s ability to paralyze my magic remained the most frightening aspect of the drug. Even though the Theobroma counteracted it, Theobroma had its own side effect. The antidote opened a person’s mind to magical influence. While I could use magic, now I had no defense against another’s magic.
Marrok still lay where he had fallen. The loud scrape of Moon Man’s weapon on the ground reached me before he was dropped beside me.
“His fingers are frozen around the handle,” one of the men said.
“A lot of good it will do him,” another joked.
Listening to their voices, I counted five men. Two against five. Not bad odds unless my legs remained numb. Then Moon Man would be on his own.
Once the men brought Leif and Tauno to the bank, the leader of the attackers dropped the null shield. It felt as if a curtain had been yanked back, revealing what lurked behind. All five men’s thoughts were open to me now.
Their leader shouted orders. “Prepare the prisoners for the Kirakawa ritual,” he said.
“We should not feed these men to it,” Rough Voice said. “We should use their blood for ourselves. You should stay.”
My gaze met Moon Man’s. We needed to act soon. I suppressed the desire to make mental contact with the Story Weaver. Their leader had to be a strong Warper to have created such a subtle null shield. There was a chance he would “hear” us.
The crunch of gravel under boots neared. My stomach tightened.
“I have orders to bring the woman to Jal,” the leader said from above me. “Jal has special plans for her.”
Without warning, the arrow in my back was yanked out. I bit my tongue to keep from yelling. The leader knelt next to me. He held the arrow, examining the weapon. My blood stained the smooth metal tip. At least the tip wasn’t barbed. Strange I should worry about that.
“Too bad,” Rough Voice said. “Think of the power you could have if you performed Kirakawa on her. You might become stronger than Jal. You could lead our clan.”
My lower back pulsed with pain. The Theobroma was working. Another minute and I should regain the use of my legs.
“She is powerful,” the leader agreed. “But I do not know the binding rite yet. Once I bring her to Jal, I hope to be rewarded and allowed to ascend to the next level.”
He smoothed tendrils of hair from my face. I made a conscious effort not to flinch as his fingers caressed my cheek.
“Are the rumors true? Are you really a Soulfinder?” he whispered to me. He stroked my arm in a possessive way. “Perhaps I can siphon a cup of your blood before I deliver you to Jal.” He reached for the knife hanging from his belt.
I moved. Pulling my switchblade from my pocket, I triggered the blade and rolled over, slicing his stomach open. But instead of falling back in surprise, he leaned forward and wrapped his hands around my neck.
A blur of motion beside me, and Moon Man leaped to his feet, swinging his scimitar in a deadly arc through Rough Voice.
I struggled with the leader. His weight trapped my arms. The pressure from his thumbs closed my windpipe. He attempted to connect with my mind, and would have succeeded with his magical attack if the Curare on my switchblade hadn’t worked so fast to paralyze his power.
One problem remained. Trapped under the frozen Vermin, I couldn’t breathe.
Moon Man, I called. Help!
One minute. The clang of weapons split the air.
I’ll be dead in a minute. Just push him off. A brief flurry of steel hitting steel was followed by silence. The man on me fell to the side. I freed my arms and pried his hands from my neck.
Moon Man reengaged in the battle. He fought three men. One man’s decapitated head rested next to me. Lovely.
My short blade wouldn’t last against their long scimitars and my bow was in the jungle with my pack. Gathering power, I sent a light touch to one man’s mind. Relieved he wasn’t a Warper, I sent him puzzling images to distract him.
He dropped out of the fight with Moon Man and stared at my approach with a baffled expression. The man raised his sword a second too late. I stepped close to him and nicked his arm with my switchblade, hoping Curare still clung to my blade. Unable to use his sword, the man dropped his weapon and lunged. His intent to subdue me rang clear in his mind, but I deepened my mental connection and forced him to sleep.
With only two attackers left, Moon Man had both their heads off in short order. He strode over to the man sleeping at my feet and raised his scimitar.
“Stop,” I said. “When he wakes, we can question him about Cahil’s plans.”
“The other?”
“Paralyzed.”
Moon Man