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Mistrals Kiss :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 122 из 148Sholto was almost here, almost to the tree line. The sky behind him was totally black, as if the father of all storms was about to break, except that instead of lightning there were tentacles, and mouths that shrieked.
“He can escape the same way,” Rhys said. “The door won’t close behind us.”
I looked at him. “Don’t we want it to?”
“I don’t know if we can close it, but if we can, Merry, he would be trapped.” There was a very serious look in his one eye — a measuring look. It was the look that I was beginning to dread from all the men. A look that said: The decision is yours.
Could I leave Sholto to die? He had called the wild hunt. He’d offered himself as prey. He’d trapped us here with his no doors. Did I owe him?
I looked at what chased him. “I couldn’t leave anyone to that.”
“So be it,” Doyle said from beside me.
“But we can go through ahead of him,” Mistral said. “We don’t have to wait.”
“You’re sure he’ll sense the door?” I asked.
Everyone answered at once. Mistral said, “Yes.” Rhys said, “Probably.” Doyle and Frost said, “I do not know.” Abe just shrugged.
I shook my head and whispered, “Goddess guide me, but I can’t leave him. I can still taste his skin on my mouth.” I stepped in front of the men, closer to the farther edge of the trees. I yelled, “Sholto, we’re leaving, hurry, hurry!”
He stumbled, fell in the clover, and rolled to his feet again in a blur of motion. He dived through the trees, and I thought he’d made it, but something long and white whipped around his ankle just before it cleared the magical circle. It caught him in that instant when his body was airborne, not touching the clover, not inside the trees. The tentacle tried to lift him skyward, but his hands reached desperately for the trees. He caught a limb with his hands, and he was left suspended, feet above the ground.
I was running forward before I had time to think. I don’t know what I planned to do when I got there, but I didn’t have to worry, because a blur of movement rushed past me. Mistral and Doyle were there before me.
Doyle had Frost’s sword in his hands. He leapt into the air in an impossibly graceful arc, and cut the tentacle in two. I smelled ozone a second before lightning crashed from Mistral’s hand. The lightning hit the cloud and seemed to bounce from one creature to another, illuminating them. It was too much light. I screamed and covered my eyes, but it was as if the images were carved inside my lids.
“He can escape the same way,” Rhys said. “The door won’t close behind us.”
I looked at him. “Don’t we want it to?”
“I don’t know if we can close it, but if we can, Merry, he would be trapped.” There was a very serious look in his one eye — a measuring look. It was the look that I was beginning to dread from all the men. A look that said: The decision is yours.
Could I leave Sholto to die? He had called the wild hunt. He’d offered himself as prey. He’d trapped us here with his no doors. Did I owe him?
I looked at what chased him. “I couldn’t leave anyone to that.”
“So be it,” Doyle said from beside me.
“But we can go through ahead of him,” Mistral said. “We don’t have to wait.”
“You’re sure he’ll sense the door?” I asked.
Everyone answered at once. Mistral said, “Yes.” Rhys said, “Probably.” Doyle and Frost said, “I do not know.” Abe just shrugged.
I shook my head and whispered, “Goddess guide me, but I can’t leave him. I can still taste his skin on my mouth.” I stepped in front of the men, closer to the farther edge of the trees. I yelled, “Sholto, we’re leaving, hurry, hurry!”
He stumbled, fell in the clover, and rolled to his feet again in a blur of motion. He dived through the trees, and I thought he’d made it, but something long and white whipped around his ankle just before it cleared the magical circle. It caught him in that instant when his body was airborne, not touching the clover, not inside the trees. The tentacle tried to lift him skyward, but his hands reached desperately for the trees. He caught a limb with his hands, and he was left suspended, feet above the ground.
I was running forward before I had time to think. I don’t know what I planned to do when I got there, but I didn’t have to worry, because a blur of movement rushed past me. Mistral and Doyle were there before me.
Doyle had Frost’s sword in his hands. He leapt into the air in an impossibly graceful arc, and cut the tentacle in two. I smelled ozone a second before lightning crashed from Mistral’s hand. The lightning hit the cloud and seemed to bounce from one creature to another, illuminating them. It was too much light. I screamed and covered my eyes, but it was as if the images were carved inside my lids.