Chapter 10
Broc came to a halt when he sensed more than one wyrran near. He was nearly upon the first he’d been tracking, but somehow there were others. The glowing thread he saw had multiplied by six.
He cursed silently. It was still too light to take to the skies where he could move above them for an attack. There would come a time in the not-too-distant future when mortals would know what he was. Until then, he would do his best to keep what he was a secret.
Broc crept downhill through the trees until he came to the edge of the forest. A half a league away was the beginning of a valley between the mountain they were on and another.
Though Broc had never heard the wyrran speak, obviously they could communicate with each other, which was evident by the way they stood together, their heads and hands moving.
Broc moved from behind the tree and walked out of the forest. It was but a heartbeat before a wyrran noticed him. The seven turned as one to him.
He grinned as he continued toward them. “You seem rather out of place, I think.”
One opened its mouth and screeched.
The piercing sound didn’t have the effect on Broc as they’d wished. He’d spent too long in their company.
“Was that supposed to frighten me? It didna,” he said, his voice soft and casual. “Now, you realize I will have to kill all of you.”
This time they all shrieked, the combined sound causing Broc’s sensitive ears to ring. He jumped straight into the air and spread his wings as the seven attacked. Broc circled above the wyrran, just out of their reach as they leapt as high as they could, reaching for him.
Once they were clumped together, he folded his wings and dove toward them. He caught the first wyrran with the tip of his wing, severing the creature’s head from its body while Broc’s claws impaled another.
Broc flew the screaming beast toward the forest and slammed the wyrran against a tree. The impact shattered the wyrran’s head.
Before Broc could yank out his claws, something vaulted on to his back, tearing and slashing at his wings. Broc landed on the ground with a roar of fury. He gave a jerk of his wing and sent the wyrran tumbling.
The remaining five wyrran began to circle him. Broc kept his wings outstretched, waiting for one of the creatures to move.
This time they changed their tactics. Instead of racing at him together, one sprang on him from behind and began clawing at Broc where his wings connected to his back.
The pain was terrible as the wyrran’s claws cut through flesh and muscle. Broc could feel the blood spill down his back in rivulets. No matter how he tried to grab the wyrran, it was always just out of reach.
Two other wyrran each grabbed one of Broc’s wings and tried to rip them from his body. When that didn’t work, they began to shred his wings.
Broc s wings weren’t made of feathers but instead resembled those of a bat. They were thick and healed as quickly as the rest of him. But his wings were more responsive than any other part of him. Each cut was like a thousand blades piercing him.
He stepped backward into the trees before he folded his wings and then snapped them out. The unsuspecting wyrran couldn’t hang on and slammed into trees before they fell away.
With the other wyrran still on his back, Broc backed against a tree until the creature was caught between Broc and the tree trunk. He applied steady pressure to the wyrran’s thin body. Almost immediately he could hear the creature’s bones shattering one by one.
The wyrran was so desperate to get free, it forgot about tearing Broc’s wings, which allowed Broc to grab hold of it.
Broc flipped it over his head and smashed it to the ground. He spun and jammed his knee into the wyrran’s chest, then used his claws to sever its head.
He jumped up, ready to face more wyrran. Only to realize they had gone. All four had departed in different directions. They had distracted him in order to get to Deirdre, knowing that at least one of them would die in the process.
Broc launched himself into the air, his wings catching the wind and propelling him higher. No longer did he care who saw him. He had to find the four wyrran before they reached Deirdre.
It didn’t take long for Broc to locate the first. He made quick work of killing the creature before he was back in the air, flying to the next.
The second wyrran was crafty, but not enough to evade Broc. It took longer than Broc would have liked to pull the damned creature out of the hollow tree where it was hiding and kill it.
Every moment wasted allowed the other two wyrran to get closer to Deirdre. By the time Broc flying toward the third wyrran, the sun had begun to set. With his heart pounding and his god demanding more blood, Broc flew faster.
The third wyrran was even cleverer than the last when he decided to duck into a cave in the mountains. Broc landed on the side of the mountain and glanced inside the cave. The ceiling was low, leaving no room for his wings, which arched over his head.
Broc tamped down his god, leaving only his claw and fangs visible before he ducked into the cave. The tunnel branched off several times, but Broc wasn’t worried. It was only a matter of time before he caught the creature.
Except that moment dragged into hours as the wyrran took Broc through cave after cave and tunnel after tunnel. Being inside the mountain reminded Broc too much of Cairn Toul, except these stones didn’t ooze with evil.
Broc was tired of hunting the wyrran and eager to catch the third. Yet, the farther back in the mountain he traveled, the lower the ceiling became, until Broc was on his hands and knees. The wyrran was putting distance between them as well.
But Broc wasn’t about to give up. He would catch the creature.
The slope of the cave continued to plunge until Broc was on his stomach, scooting across the jagged rock, which cut into his skin and tore his breeches. He could see a small opening ahead with his enhanced vision.
The opening was so tiny, Broc had to scrunch his shoulders to get them through.
Once his arms were free again, he was able to look around before pulling the rest of his body out.
He was in a cavern with a bottom like a bowl.
Broc used his hands to push himself farther out of the opening, then he was able to roll out of the gap.
He came to his feet in a rush and glanced around. There was no other way out. The wyrran was in the cavern, and it would be its tomb.
Out of the corner of Broc’s eye, he caught movement. He turned just in time to see the wyrran scurrying through another opening.
Broc raced to the side and reached into the hole. He was able to latch onto the wyrran’s ankle. For the next few moments Broc spent his time yanking the squirming creature out of the opening before flinging it in the center of the cavern.
The wyrran leapt to its feet and issued a long shriek. It echoed through the cavern, eliminating any other noise. Broc’s rage had built with each cave he had walked through until he didn’t hold back his god anymore.
He seized the wyrran’s neck with one hand and punched it with the other. The wyrran clawed at Broc’s arms and chest, trying desperately to get free. Broc bellowed as he ripped the wyrran’s head off and tossed the lifeless body to the ground.
With his breaths coming in great gasps, Broc rushed to the opening he had pulled the wyrran from.
It was larger than the one he had come through, making it easier to maneuver.
He quickly crawled into the opening. Once he was back in the tunnels, he navigated his way out on the opposite side of the mountain.
Broc exited the last cave and stared at the moon with a grimace. He had lost all track of time while in the mountain, which is exactly what the wyrran had wanted. Broc thought of Sonya, of her beautiful smile and amazing amber eyes. It helped to calm his fury enough to find the last wyrran.
With his god once more unleashed, Broc took to the air. The chilly night wind helped to cool his heated flesh. He glided through the mountains, taking him farther and farther from Sonya.
As much as he hated that, Broc knew he had to kill the last wyrran. Once it was dead, he and Sony could make their way to MacLeod Castle without Deirdre knowing where they were.
Broc flew over mountain after mountain. He wasn't surprised to find how far the wyrran had come. What stunned him was that the creature had caught up with others.
He could either engage the twelve wyrran he circled from high above, which could take hours. Especially if they split up the way the last ones did.
Or Broc could return to Sonya and get her to MacLeod Castle that night.
Broc didn’t hesitate in returning to Sonya.
Sonya put her hands at the base of her back and stretched in the chair. She had no idea how many clothes she had mended. Jean would bring in a few at a time, returning later to bring more and take the ones that were finished.
It helped to pass the day, but as soon as the sun had set, Sonya couldn’t concentrate on anything. Every sound she heard she prayed it was Broc.
When Jean brought a tray of food for the evening meal, Sonya couldn’t eat. She had wanted to wait for Broc. But as the hours ticked by, Sonya couldn’t shake the dread that filled her. Now every sound made her wonder if it was a wyrran coming for her.
Sonya set aside the tunic she had been sewing and rose to walk to the table. Her stomach growled in hunger. She knew she needed to eat. If Broc didn’t return by morning, she would be on her way back to the castle. And she would need her strength.
She began to slowly put the food in her mouth, though she tasted nothing.
Her mind was filled with Broc. Where was he?
What was taking so long? Had Deirdre captured him?
Was he injured? Even though his god healed him of injuries, she had learned there was something a Warrior’s god couldn’t heal—magic.
So many questions. Each one churned her stomach until it felt as if she would become ill.