Sword and Sorceress XXVII Read Online Free Page A

lightless pupils ringed in
blood.
    Hooked claws and yellowed teeth sank
deep into the shining rope. The beast twisted its head, snapping threads of
light, then devouring them.
    Awareness shifted the beast’s eyes. It
rose up, froth dripping from its jaws. Rumbling sounded in its throat. It
extended its head, slit nostrils flaring wide, and bared its razor teeth.
    For an instant, Moon’s nerve almost
failed her. How could she fight such a monster? Yet if she ran away now, as
every instinct urged her, what then? The beast would destroy the paths that
linked the worlds together. She knew, as certainly as if Bluejay had told her
aloud, that all would then fall into darkness, a night without even the Ice
Raven for comfort.
    The beast was already moving toward her.
Whip tail lashing, it gathered itself for a leap. Moon drew her bow. Her arrow
sped true, but the beast turned at the last instant. Hissing and thrashing, the
monster caught the shaft between its jaws and snapped it into a dozen
fragments.
    Moon slipped another arrow into place.
Before she took aim, however, the monster leapt, quicksilver fast.
    She ducked and rolled toward the beast.
The claws of its hind paws raked her as it passed overhead. Something
snapped—the arrow she had drawn, not her precious bow. The creature’s body cast
her into shadow and flooded her nostrils with its rank odor. Then it landed
heavily on the path beyond her.
    Moon scrambled to her feet to face the
beast. As her fingers touched her arrow case, she realized that she had only
one arrow left. Only one.
    Fitting it to the string, she drew the
bow.
    Growling, the creature took a slow,
menacing step toward her. She could not see a vital target, only rows of
overlapping obsidian-dark scales. Its skull was thick and she did not think
even her bow could drive an arrow through its ribs head-on.
    She must choose her target. One more
step and the beast would be upon her.
    The monster halted, as if daring her to
shoot. Its tail lashed the air. She faced it, unflinching.
    One arrow, only one chance.
    The beast tensed its muscles for another
leap. Moon crouched down on one knee and shot upwards just as its forequarters
lifted. The arrow buried itself in the thin skin just to one side of the
breastbone.
    The beast dropped, but Moon was already
rolling free. The silvery rope shuddered under the impact, then began swaying
and twisting. Clutching her bow, she flattened herself on its surface. Her
vision whirled sickeningly. The entire universe seemed to have come loose from
its moorings, bucking and heaving like a maddened bison. Below it, or perhaps
above, for in Moon’s disordered sight she could not tell, yawned an enormous
whirlpool, an abyss of swirling darkness.
    With a great cacophonous screech as if a
thousand rusted bells rang out at once, the body of the beast slid sideways and
disappeared into the void.
    Gradually, the path of light grew still.
Moon dared to sit up. Her cheeks were slick with tears, and the air stung her
eyes. She bled from four or five shallow gashes on her arms, most likely from
the beast’s claws, although she could not remember being struck. Her bowstring
had snapped, but the bow itself seemed to be sound.
    She clambered unsteadily to her feet and
retraced her steps. The path felt solid, resilient, but she was trembling so
badly that the slightest tremor might topple her over the side. To her
surprise, she saw no sign of the frayed strands from the beast’s devastation.
She hoped this meant the bond between the living worlds had taken no lasting
harm.
    The mist closed around her as she went
on, but this time she welcomed it as a friend. It stroked her torn skin,
drawing out the pain. She thanked it silently. After a time, so gradually she
could barely discern the change, the mist lifted. Bluejay stood there, waiting
for her.
    Whether the battle with the beast itself
had changed her, or whether it was something in the mist or the vision of
worlds strung together by a rope