Chapter 7

The servant had spoken true. The temple was unmistakable. It rose in a single spire of black stone, set with red crystal, shining like fresh blood running down its sides. The great double doors were white maple, set with gold, facing the North-East--toward Fellyre. Jaened strode up to the door.
"What are you doing?" Eldan demanded in a sharp whisper.
Jaened stared back at her. "I am getting my sister." With that, he seized both door handles and flung the door open. A blast of foul-smelling smoke poured out into the courtyard, choking and momentarily blinding them. Through the haze, they saw two figures standing before a low-burning fire.
One turned while the other remained still as a statue. Kalen scarcely recognized the woman who had entrapped them. Her hair was bound up with gold and her neck and face, above her flowing scarlet robe, were painted with curling black designs. Her right hand clutched a long, ornate knife. Jaened started forward, a murderous hate in his eyes, only to be stopped in his tracks by Symorkhel's mocking laugh.
"Are you three so eager for death? I would have come for you presently."
"The only one who will die here is you, witch. You are alone against us all. What chance do you think you have?" Jaened demanded
"Foolish boy. You underestimate my power. I serve Lord Zerak, of whom you all have doubtless heard much."
"Zerak is not here," Eldan spoke up, "But you can still live. Give us his sister and we will not kill you."
"Sheela!" At Symorkhel's word, the other figure stiffened and turned sharply to stand beside the priestess. Blank, depth-less light brown eyes stared out of a face so white it seemed inhuman.
"Erissa?" Jaened's voice was barely above a whisper. If the pale woman even heard him, she gave no sign of it.
"Sheela, do you know this man?" Symorkhel asked softly. Erissa, if it really was her, shook her head. "They have come to desecrate our temple. What shall we do to them?"
"They must die." It was said indifferently, with no hint of concern or malice. Symorkhel let out a low laugh that sent shivers up the back of Kalen's neck. Erissa turned her back and silently returned to face the flames as the shadows beyond the fire began to stir. A low, unearthly growl shook the ground. Kalen took an uncertain step back, and Eldan grabbed his arm.
"Run! It's Naresh!" Eldan's voice was almost drowned out by Symorkhel's laughter as two great dark shapes slunk into the light. The death-wolves were as large as horses, their blind white eyes only strengthening their sharp sense of smell. Kalen turned to run and almost collided with Jaened who just stood, staring at the long fangs and mangy brown bodies.
"I won't leave without Erissa." Kalen saw the creature crouch to spring and, on instinct, slammed into Jaened, knocking him to the ground. The Naresh leapt harmlessly over them and, in the moment it paused in confusion, Eldan pulled them to their feet and they took off into the courtyard, not daring to look back as the Naresh's claws grated on the flagstones in pursuit.
Eldan reached the steps to the parapet first and paused just long enough for Jaened and Kalen to pass her, then followed, almost shoving them in her haste. Below them, the first Naresh checked its pace to late and slammed into the wall. The other sniffed around, then began pacing by the base of the stairs, snarling and slavering. As they reached the top of the wall, Kalen's adrenaline gave out. He sank to his knees, clutching the bandage, feeling fresh blood leaking through. Eldan and Jaened hauled him to his feet between them.
"Leave me. I can't make it." It wasn't heroics. It was simply the truth.
"Can't make it where?" Jaened gave a despairing laugh. "We're trapped." Symorkhel had stepped out into the courtyard, watching them with an amused smile. It crossed Kalen's mind that he would rather have died on the battle field.
Eldan turned to them. "We have to jump."
Jaened glanced over the wall. "We can't--we'll kill ourselves!" In answer, Eldan lept nimbly up on the edge and let herself drop. Kalen did not see her land, but Jaened hauled him to his feet as Symorkhel began calling out orders to her guards. Before he even knew what was happening, he was on the ground trying to catch his breath from the impact. Eldan was standing over him, yelling for Jaened to follow. Just as the gates began to creak open far down the wall, he landed in an awkward half-roll beside them.
Kalen was still gasping as they hauled him to his feet again and set off at a run. The terrain was rough with the broken stones and rubble of an ancient village. Kalen could scarcely gain his footing before he would lose it again. The sound of pursuit was ever growing, but Eldan kept saying over and over again, "We are almost there."
Finally they stopped, though the Naresh's howls were close behind. Kalen fell to his knees as the world reeled around him. Eldan and Jaened seemed to be arguing, but he could not hear them over the high pitched ringing in his ears. Then they had him up again, forcing him up a nearby tree. He made it to the fourth branch before fatigue won out. But the others were up before he could fall. Eldan climbed past them as nimbly as a squirrel and disappeared into the higher branches.
Seconds later, the whole tree swayed as the Naresh jumped at the lower branches. Jaened dragged Kalen up a little farther, beyond the beasts' reach. Eldan swung down to a branch just above them and, hooking one elbow around another branch for balance, knelt and drew back a bow. At least, that was what Kalen thought he saw. He was so light-headed that he did not dare to trust his eyes. And He knew she didn't have a bow, yet she set and reset until finally, she found her spot and released the arrow. The Naresh dropped like a stone without even a yelp. The other, ignoring its fallen comrade, renewed its attack. Eldan leaned back, her bow slack in her hands.
A scuffle and a snarl from below brought their attention downward. Three hooded figures in dull brown and green were attacking the furious beast with spears, nimbly dodging its claws and fangs. Finally, two distracted it as the third backed up to throw his spear. Then it was over. The Naresh lay on its side weakly writhing through its death throws, and the spearmen were reaching up to help them down from the tree.
A man with a ragged blond beard set against a darkly weathered face leaned Kalen against the tree and began silently unwrapping the bandage from his shoulder. Eldan was brandishing the bow in one of their faces.
"Who is in charge of this post? One arrow--I'd be dead if you hadn't come. When was it last stocked?" She continued her angry tirade for a few moments, but, when she stopped for a breath, the third newcomer, a tall, big-boned woman with braided iron grey hair, enveloped her in a hug. Then the renewed pain in his shoulder tore Kalen's attention away again.