All is not lost. The Blaine-child was within reachand with the Blaine-child, they could break Dacey Childers' spirit. Surprising enough he had any spirit left at all. But it was he who still drove this fight, who charged for this very spot at top speed, new seer's magic whirling around him. That was a mystery for another time. For now, they had enoughthe memories of the annektehr lost in the south, lost to Dacey Childers' fierce fears for the Blaine-child.
And almost within reach, the Blaine-child herself.
They would present Dacey Childers with a decision that would kill him as surely as any Annekteh blade.
In moments all will be regained. Shadow Hollers and Dacey Childers will be ours.
"Mage, stay!" Blaine said desperately, her hands clenched with fear for the dog. "Oh, please stay."
Slowly, reluctantly, he stopped, trembling in every limb with the effort of obedience.
"He's all right, I think," she said, relaxing a fraction. "So much has happenedhe's just upset. He doesn't know you. He's Dacey's dog."
Rand looked at the ever-growling Mage and shuddered. "I hope that's it, sissy," he said. "I hate to think your friend's dog has been Took, Blaine, but I'll kill it if it gets any closer." His injured arm made a bow useless, but he hefted the short sword he'd scavenged.
Blaine tugged Dacey's knife from her skirtband and pulled the sheath off. "I reckon I'll help you, if it comes to that," she said sadly, wondering what she would tell Dacey; she walked over to her brother, carefully watching the dog and not watching Rand at all.
Mage stayed, sinking to the ground and trembling all over; his snarl built and his eyes fairly snapped with fury. Blaine hesitated, staring at him, at a loss. She hefted the knife, trying to imagine using it, wondering what force it would take to drive the heavy blade into the dog, and in the next moment knowing she could never hurt this loyal creature, Taken or not. How ever had the boys been able to kill men they knew, on this battlefield?
A new sound cut through her hesitation, one that had been grumbling in the background, unnoted. It crescendoed into a bellow of rage
And it came from Blue. He bounded from the tree where Blaine had left him and zeroed straight in at her and Rand, his face filled with such savage intent that Blaine's mouth dropped open in astonishment. In the corner of her eye, Rand's sword moved up and ready. "Don't!" she said sharply, reaching to stay his hand.
"No! Blaine, no!"
The yell rang across the hill and Blaine froze. Dacey. How . . . ? As confused as she and running up against Mage, Blue stumbled to a clumsy stop.
"Blaine, no!" Dacey repeated, coming into sight at a reckless run, looking at herlooking at herand at Rand. She turned to exchange a baffled glance with Rand.
The eyes he turned on her belonged to someone else. Something else.
"Rand!" she cried, refusing to believe. Unable to believe. Rand, nekfehr. Taken.
He beheld her with reproach. "Seer's blood."
"No," Blaine said, her voice quivering. No, this can't be Rand. No, I ain't got no seer's blood. She gave Dacey a wild lookentreaty, denialbut Dacey didn't tell her what she wanted to hear; he was snatching up a bow from beneath the tree, capturing arrows from the bushesthe very weapons she had dropped. The annektehr in Rand paid him no attention, and focused only on Blaine.
"Yes. Your brother knows of your dreams, Blaine Kendricks," Rand said. "So do we. We saw you, there in the tree. And we're not through hereso you must die. Or become one of us, if your blood runs too thin."
"Rand, no," she whimpered, edging back, trying to gain ground without triggering the annektehr into action. Behind her, Mage snarled, a wave of sound that rode the swells of his breath.
Watch Mage.
Dacey's advice rang through her earstoo late. Mage had known Annekteh scent all along, had howled for Annekteh quarry. Had tried to warn her before it was too late. And Dacey had done his best to tell her so without placing the unique dog in danger.
Having at last stumbled on to it, Blaine turned to dart away and also stumbled over her own feet, falling hard on Blue.
The dog scrambled to get out from under her. Her hand locked on his collar and he dragged her, gaining precious distance before he stopped, obeying the tug of her weight. Stricken, Blaine blinked up at her brothernot her brothertightening her grip on the knife she had almost dropped.
She had seen the boys fight their own. Now it was her turn.
He moved for herbut glanced up and froze.
Dacey stood well within range, an arrow aimed directly at Rand, no doubts on his face. His chest heaved from his run up the hill, but his aim did not waver.
He wouldn't miss.
"Dacey . . ." she said. Don't kill my brother, Dacey, please. But another inner voice, one she couldn't bear to hear, pled for something else. Don't let him live like this.
"That's right, Dacey," Rand smiled, but not any smile that Blaine was used to seeing on that face. And his voice seemed twisted, with a sudden strange, flat accent. The annektehr within Rand. "He's her brother. You kill him, and she'll hate you forever."
"You've lost," Dacey said evenly. "Might as well leave that boy be."
"Have we?" Rand sneered, another expression Blaine had never seen on her brother's face. "You know nothing. You've no magic in you. And you won't kill me, or you would have done it by now."
"I had no magic." Dacey raised an eyebrow. "You done changed that yourself, trying to spell my eyes. Go home, annektehr. Take all the annektehr with you. This is over, and you'll never get another chance." He pulled the bowstring back another inch. At this distance the arrow would half go through its target.
"You won't," said the annektehr, taking a step toward Blaine. "She'll be lost to you."
Blaine tightened her fingers around the knife and looked at Dacey, desperately trying to read him. "Dacey . . ." she repeated, and this time she didn't know what she was asking for.
Randonly nekfehr nowgrinned, and took another step. "You won't," he said again. "And once I touch her, you'll never win. You can't kill her."
"That's the truth," Dacey said mildly, as Rand bent, reaching for the bare skin above Blaine's boot, below her too-short skirt.
Blaine closed her eyes. Rand, she thought, overwhelmed by memories of how close they'd been, of the understanding he'd always given her. If only you'd listened to me. There was little chance of both of them coming through thisthere was little chance of either of them coming through thisbut he was one of the few annektehr left in the hills. Maybe the only one. And if Dacey wasn't going to . . .
Rand, I'm sorry. She turned on her hip and plunged the knife upward, ready to spring away out of reach. Hoping to.
"Blaine, no!" Dacey snapped, a sound as taut as the bowstring he released, as sharp as the thunk of the arrow hitting its target. Blaine froze, and waited for the body to fall. To fall on her.
Nothing. No smothering weight, no cry of pain. Cautiously, Blaine cracked her eyes.
Arm still flung up before his face, Rand stood as frozen as she, his eyes wide with terrorhuman eyes, human terror. An arrow quivered in the tree beside him. Blaine looked at Dacey, and found reassurance in his satisfied smile, the relaxed way he lowered his bow. The annektehr had run.
Blaine jerked the knife back behind herself and dropped it. If she had her way, Rand would never realize how close she had come to killing him.
Or at least to trying.
"Rand?" she asked, unable to help the hesitation in her voice. She looked at Dacey again, saw his nod, and rolled to her knees to reach out to her brother. At the pressure of her hand he lifted his head; another split-second of indecision and he hauled her into his arms for a crushing hug.
"I thought I was kilt," he said, and she felt his head lift from her shoulder to look up at Dacey. She snuggled happily into him, hearing the pureness of proper mountain speech in his voice again.
"So did the nekteh," Dacey said, joining them as Mage stood up, shook off, and trotted over to him.
Blaine twisted around to look at him, her expression incredulous. "What iff'n it hadn't left him, Dacey?" What if I'd been Taken, too?
He shook his head. "You gotta play it as it happens, Blaine," Dacey said. "The decisions for the what if's don't gotta be made, and I don't reckon you'll ever hear an answer to that particular question."
He bent down to pick up the knife she'd dropped and handed it out to her. Blaine didn't move to take it. "It's yours, Dacey."
"No." He shook his head once, decisively. "Take it. You know how to use it."
She'd killed a bear with this knife. She'd almost killed her brother. There was respect in his eyes for that, an expression that made Blaine feel sick and proud at the same time.
She took the knife.
Mage hovered at Dacey's side, no sign of hound wrath on his face. Mage, who came from a seer-bred line of dogs, and who had done his best to protect her. And Blue, who had charged in to help his endangered packmate with no thought for his own safety. Now he came up to nudge her hand, looking a little long-eared and embarrassed at his part in a sequence of events that made no sense to him.
Blaine rubbed his floppy ears, but her attention stayed on Dacey; he stood alert, and looking down the hill as though he could see through the rhododendrons to something else.
Something that put that intent, worried look on his face.
Beside her, Rand straightened, tense, also watching Dacey. He murmured, "The Taker . . . when it had me . . . it knew there were others leftI felt it. That's why it was so cocky, so easy to scare off."
Blaine suddenly realized the one person she had not seen in this fight; she stiffened. "Nekfehr."
"Yes," said Dacey.
They left Rand with his voluntary prisoners and ran for the meeting hall. It was a scrambling race, along the curving side of the hill, over the slight rise of the point, and then down, down behind the barn. Blue bounded along beside Blaine as she fought to lift her tired feet above snagging roots and deadwood, sliding in the deep humus and snatching at the blessed support of the trees around her. Even so, she pulled ahead of Dacey.
They descended between the two points and into the little bowl that held the hall and barn, where the confusing babble of activity there overcame the noise of their own movement. Blaine stopped herself up against a tree, lying against it; Dacey came up behind her and used the same tree to steady himself, his arm reaching over her head. Breathing hard, they listened to the sounds, tried to decipher them. It sounded like the women had broken the warding, and were out with the men in the yard.
Or was it a little more strident than that?
The ear-piercing scream of a child broke through their questions. Dacey pushed off the tree and ran break-neck down the hill, leaving Blaine in a struggle to catch up.
Though she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to.
They came down behind the barnin Blaine's case, smack up against it, as it stopped her out-of-control descent. Dacey had his back to it, trying to slow his breathing, his eyes closed as he listened and assessed what they could hearthough it wasn't as clear, here on the same level and behind the barn, as it had been uphill.
Angry men's voices, snatches of phrases, a clear threat. Blaine caught Dacey's glance; his face was grim. No, this definitely wasn't over. Not yet.
Dacey smeared the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve and straightened, leading the way to the downhill edge of the barn. They crept around it, not heeding too much to the noise they made; there was enough of that in the yard to cover their steps.
When they could see the yard, Blaine crouched down low. Dacey came up behind her, his hand on her shoulder; both stayed against the rough old wood of the barn slats. Dacey breathed a curse in her ear as the situation became apparent.
The women were out of the hall, all right. They mingled freely with about half the men from the fighting, and they held hastily snatched implements of warthe pitchforks, shovels and mattocks from the barn. The men had knives and bows, but precious few arrows. The children were hiding, clinging, no longer crying, crowding against one parent or the other.
They all faced off against three men. Nekfehr and two others.
"Annektehr," Dacey murmured to Blaine. "All three. The last of 'em, I believe."
Annektehr, and they had a little girl.
Her name was Rossie; Blaine had watched over her a time or two. She was Willum's age, a feisty little girl who was not good at taking ordersorders like stay in the hall. Though one of the men had a good grip on her, she was obviously not Taken, not with the genuine terror on her face, the high red blotches from tears. She wasn't movingnot even a squirm, not with the big knife up against her chest like it was.
Dacey walked past Blaine and right out into the yard, to the side of the standoff. "If you kill her, you're going to die."
Nekfehr tipped his head, a salute of sorts. "We have no intention of dying. If we can't come to terms, we'll simply Take this child." He gestured at Rossie, in the grip of his man, and bestowed upon her a look of false affection. "It's amazing how many of you she'll be able to touch before anyone can bring themselves to kill her."
Dacey shook his head. "I can kill her before she reaches any one of them."
Someone gasped; a mother's cry of dismay. Dacey had left the bow behind; Blaine had his knife. But as he moved between the little girl and the crowd, it was clear enough to Blaine that he would simply intercept her before she could reach any of them.
"Then they'll likely kill you," the leader said.
"Not until after you've done died a dozen times over," Dacey said. "Seems a fair enough trade, to me."
"Dacey, no," Blaine breathed. But no one heard her; no one even knew she huddled beside the barn. They were frozenafraid, now, to do anything that might tip this confrontation the wrong way.
As though it were no big thing, Dacey looked Rossie in the eye, got her attention. Then he stepped toward her, reaching his hand out in invitation.
"I think not," Nekfehr said. "You've done enough."
His attack was snake quick. He lunged forward, apparently unarmed, but Blaine saw the tuft of something in his hand, all but hidden from view. She ran from the safety of the barn, crying a warningbut by then Dacey was already in motion. He leapt aside and into the attack, bringing the side of his hand down hard against the man's inner elbow. And though it made no sense to Blaine, Dacey didn't hesitate, folding the arm around his hand, and shoving Nekfehr's own hand back at him. It slammed into the man's own chest.
And to Blaine's astonishment, Nekfehr crumpled. To everyone's astonishment, including the men who had backed him, somehow Dacey's touch held deathor impending death, for the man still quivered at his feet. For an instant, they were frozen with surprise, and in that instant, a warrior cry filled the air. High-pitched, a woman's challenge. Lottie Kendricks charged out of the crowd, her pitchfork held high. She buried it in the chest of the man who held Rossie, then yanked the child away.
Dead silence, while the remaining nekteh backed away from them and the entire assembly stared at Lottie, wondering if she'd been quick enough. She lifted her chin and said, her voice fierce, "They took my Willum. They wasn't having this 'un, too."
In an unspoken threat, Dacey moved between Lottie and the final annektehr, his stare hard, his warning unmistakable. The man hesitated. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed in an untidy, quivering heap.
Beside him, Nekfehr gave a little jerk; Blaine eased up to Dacey's side, looking down at the Annekteh leader with trepidation. To her surprise, Dacey's face held nothing but compassion. "It's over, Nekfehr," he said, crouching by the man, his voice reassuring; he picked something off the man's chest and dropped it in the dust, grinding it to pieces with his toe.
"Not Nekfehr," the man gasped. "Shauntan. My name" he stiffened, his jaws clenching, and somehow spoke anyway, "is Shauntan. AndI thank you." He jerked again, and Blaine looked away.
When she looked back, he was dead.
Pandemonium. Rossie ran to her mother, was swept up and kissed frantically all over her tear-stained face. Boys and men who'd been watching out of sight on the hill came rushing down to their families, turning the yard into a tumult of whooped greetings, embraces and tears. Blaine found her own family, everyone but Rand, and they somehow managed to hug each other all at once. Sarie, who needed some moments to realize that this person truly was her older sister, took to squealing Blaine's name over and over again, until Blaine hitched the girl up on her hip and held her there, enduring the stranglehold around her neck.
Thus encumbered, she turned back to Dacey, who had been standing alone over the three once-Taken, but who was now becoming the focus of the yard. Slowly, silence fell again, as they regarded the uncoordinated shuddering of that which had once been humanthe remaining nekfehr, the vesseland which now seemed like an empty shell.
"They get like this when they've been Took long enough," Dacey said. "Be a mercy to kill him." And he turned and walked away, through the path that opened for him.
Blaine slid Sarie off her hip and followed him to the barn, where he turned back to watch the gathering and the indistinct, solemn action that took place in the center of it. Mercy.
"Dacey," she said, "what happened? How'd Nekfehr die? Looked like it was purely from your touch!"
Dacey glanced at her, startled. " 'Course it wasn't. He had a dart. Same kind o' dart that kilt my uncle. Didn't expect me to know of it, I'd say."
"Oh," she said, still a little numb from it all. The men who were crouching over the leader's body obviously hadn't found the dart yet, not from the looks they were giving Dacey; she remembered that he had crushed something. The crowd broke up, leaving the bodies in its wake as people started to put things to rights. There were tables to be straightened, wounds to be tended, stomachs to be fed. Blaine frowned a little. "They act like they've done forgot there's a whole 'nother crew of them Annekteh headed this way."
"I don't reckon," Dacey said. "They can't win a fight here when we're ready for 'em, which we are. And they know there's seer's blood here now. They'll turn back."
"But what about the people they already have?" Blaine asked. "They're still there, aren't they? Up north?"
"That's another fight, Blaine," Dacey said gently. He was hardly imposing, leaning up against the barn as though it was the only thing that held him up, his face still pale and marred from Annektehand Estus'ill-treatment . . . but there was something about him that drew her gaze to him. Blaine tipped her head up to meet his eyes. They were still hazel, still clear and kind, but she understood once more that he had gained more than the simple sight he'd once had.
He would be leaving soon, she suddenly realized. It simply wasn't like him to drag out his part in this victory. Despite her respect for his natural reserve, she just couldn't not do it. She stepped forward and wrapped her armsskinny as they werearound the breadth of his shoulders. She could feel the weariness there, but when she drew away his face also held the same playfulness she'd seen when they sang with the dogs.
She didn't guess she'd ever really understand him.
"Go to your folks," he said. "Me'n Mage'll walk the hills a bit, I reckon."