JК
Mistrals Kiss :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 129 из 148”
I started to back away fromhim. “I’m going back to help my men.”
“She’s bluffing,” the warty goblin said.
“No,” Frost said, “she’s not.” He struggled to his feet, then fell back into the snow. “Merry!”
“Bancroft, get him to the hospital.” I aimed the gun skyward and started running back the way we’d come. I tried to think of summer’s heat. Tried to bring the idea of warmth to my shields, but all I could feel was the ice under my feet. If I was human enough to get frostbite, I’d lose feeling soon.
Ash and Holly came up beside me, one on either side. They loped along while I ran my fastest. They could have outdistanced me and gotten to the fight sooner, but they’d only obey the letter of our agreement. If I fought and asked for help, then they had to help me, but they didn’t have to get to the fight one second before I did.
I prayed, “Goddess, help me and my allies to arrive in time to save my people.” I felt someone pounding up behind us, but did not glance back — it was just one of the larger goblins.
Then hands, silver-grey in the moonlight. Before I knew it I was cradled against a chest almost as wide as I was tall. Jonty, the Red Cap, was ten feet of goblin muscle. He glanced down at me with eyes that in good light would be as red as if he looked at the world through a spill of fresh blood. His eyes were a match for Holly’s. It had made me wonder if the goblin half of the twins was a Red Cap. The blood that dripped continuously from the cap on his head shone in the light. Little drops of it were flung behind him as he picked up speed and raced toward the fight. The Red Caps had earned their name by dipping their caps in the blood of enemies. Once, to be warlord among them you had to have enough magic to keep the blood dripping indefinitely. Jonty was the only Red Cap I’d ever met who could do the trick, though he wasn’t a warlord, because the Red Caps were no longer a kingdom unto themselves.
Ash and Holly were forced to stretch to keep up with the much bigger man; Jonty was a small giant even among them. They had been in charge of this expedition, but goblins are a tough lot. If they let Jonty reach the fight first — if they showed themselves weaker, slower, than him — then they might not be in charge at the end of the night. Goblin society is survival of the fittest.
I cradled the gun carefully, pointing it away from Jonty. No one got ahead of us — no one else had the length of leg — and the others were fighting just to keep pace. Such a big creature, but he ran with the grace and speed of something lithe and beautiful.
I started to back away fromhim. “I’m going back to help my men.”
“She’s bluffing,” the warty goblin said.
“No,” Frost said, “she’s not.” He struggled to his feet, then fell back into the snow. “Merry!”
“Bancroft, get him to the hospital.” I aimed the gun skyward and started running back the way we’d come. I tried to think of summer’s heat. Tried to bring the idea of warmth to my shields, but all I could feel was the ice under my feet. If I was human enough to get frostbite, I’d lose feeling soon.
Ash and Holly came up beside me, one on either side. They loped along while I ran my fastest. They could have outdistanced me and gotten to the fight sooner, but they’d only obey the letter of our agreement. If I fought and asked for help, then they had to help me, but they didn’t have to get to the fight one second before I did.
I prayed, “Goddess, help me and my allies to arrive in time to save my people.” I felt someone pounding up behind us, but did not glance back — it was just one of the larger goblins.
Then hands, silver-grey in the moonlight. Before I knew it I was cradled against a chest almost as wide as I was tall. Jonty, the Red Cap, was ten feet of goblin muscle. He glanced down at me with eyes that in good light would be as red as if he looked at the world through a spill of fresh blood. His eyes were a match for Holly’s. It had made me wonder if the goblin half of the twins was a Red Cap. The blood that dripped continuously from the cap on his head shone in the light. Little drops of it were flung behind him as he picked up speed and raced toward the fight. The Red Caps had earned their name by dipping their caps in the blood of enemies. Once, to be warlord among them you had to have enough magic to keep the blood dripping indefinitely. Jonty was the only Red Cap I’d ever met who could do the trick, though he wasn’t a warlord, because the Red Caps were no longer a kingdom unto themselves.
Ash and Holly were forced to stretch to keep up with the much bigger man; Jonty was a small giant even among them. They had been in charge of this expedition, but goblins are a tough lot. If they let Jonty reach the fight first — if they showed themselves weaker, slower, than him — then they might not be in charge at the end of the night. Goblin society is survival of the fittest.
I cradled the gun carefully, pointing it away from Jonty. No one got ahead of us — no one else had the length of leg — and the others were fighting just to keep pace. Such a big creature, but he ran with the grace and speed of something lithe and beautiful.