The Unfinished Song (Book 5): Wing Read Online Free

“Take
back what was stolen from you.”
    It was a stone knife. All blade, no handle. The
cold, sharp edge cut into her hand when he pressed it into her
fist. Droplets of blood seeped from her palm. Like a spider bite,
the prick hurt beyond its size. Shadows swam before her vision; she
was dizzy; she staggered; she swayed. Memories surged through
her.
    The knife slid from her fingers and clattered on the
ground.
    “Xerpen! Xerpen!” Hard, sob-like gasps wracked her
body. “Ayaha, Xerpen! What have I done?”
Umbral
    Umbral slashed the girl’s throat.
    Or would have…if Time itself had not betrayed
him.
    His blade, his arm and everything around him slowed
as if embalmed in syrup. His slash never completed the killing
stroke. Instead, he was swallowed into the edge of a Vision. He
could not move; then time sped up again, and he stumbled
backward.
    Dizzy and disoriented, he crouched on the ground,
primed for battle. No opponents assaulted him. The Vision had
dissipated. He tried to hold on to what he had seen, but he had
been too far to the edge of the Pattern. Only one figure had shone
clearly: the White Lady.
    The girl was still bound to the altar.
    A clear night sky glittered with stars. The bat
beast, Shadow, hung upside down from a nearby tree. The rain had
ended. Nothing even dripped.
    Hours had passed. Hours .
    She was still bound with ropes of dark energy. The
circle of fire still burned. How could she have pulled in the
threads to weave a Vision? He rose from his battle-crouch and
approached her with the same caution of a man about to steal a cub
from a she-wolf.
    Shimmering orange lights and shadows illuminated her
skin and the folds of dark wool sloped and dipped from her breasts
to her hips. Wide frightened eyes like a doe peered up at him.
    “How did you do it?” he asked.
    Dark lashes hit her cheeks. “I don’t know.”
    “You’re lying.”
    “You’re going to kill me no matter what I say.”
    “Yes.” He frowned. Somehow, in the middle of a dead
winter night, she smelled of wildflowers and summer clover. “Your
power is impressive, but in the end you’ve gained nothing but a few
breaths more.”
    Still, although he palmed his dagger again, he did
not immediately try to kill her. The Vision had been important. He
wished he had seen more of it. He needed to think this through.
    While he dithered, crunching wet leaves alerted him.
Three to four people approached. They had some stealth-craft, but
the squelching ground betrayed them to his careful ears.
    Ash, grey with soot from her namesake, arrived at
the menhirs. Pieces of Stoneheart followed after her, carried by
Owlhawker and Masher.
    “We were waiting for you at the other stone,” Ash
complained to Umbral. “That’s where the other Gifts to the Lady are
tied.” She disapproved of and dismissed the girl tied to the altar
with a single sneer. “I can see why you decided to bring that
one here alone, though. I saw you grab her from the
battlefield. She didn’t look too injured to me. Seems to have all
her parts.”
    Masher went closer to examine the girl. He whistled.
“She sure has parts.”
    Masher darted out of the way before Umbral could
smack him out of the way. Without a word to the girl, Umbral
brought down his blade. She flinched away.
    But he tapped the throbbing black cords of energy,
not her neck. The shadow ropes fell away. She blinked at him in
wary surprise. Umbral held his hand out to her. Even more warily,
she took it and he helped her stand. He nudged the pile of her
clothes scattered on the ground. She took the hint and dressed
herself as well as she could in the garments he’d cut to rags. Even
piecemeal fur would still keep her warm. He stood between her and
Masher while she dressed, though maybe it was not necessary. She
used dexterity to the advantage of modesty.
    Once he was satisfied she would not freeze to death,
he faced the others. “She is not a Gift to the Lady. Not yet. I
have a use for her