Jim Butcher - Furies of Calderon

"Because the other one was smothering her, dolt," growled Aldo, from where he lay. His voice carried the stress of the pain from his injured foot. "And you saw what Kord tried to do to her."

"I told you all," Warner said with a certain vicious satisfaction in his voice from his position on the stairs. "They're a bad lot all around."

"Warner," Isana said wearily. "Go get dressed."

The spare Steadholder looked down at himself and seemed to become aware of his nakedness for the first time. He flushed, then muttered something to excuse himself and hurried from the room.

Otto shook his head again. "I just can't believe someone would do that."

"Otto," muttered Aldo. "Use your head for something besides a dressing mirror. Bernard is hurt, and so is Warner's son. Get them into a tub and craft them better.'

Roth nodded decisively, visibly gathering himself together. "Of course. Steadholder Aldo," he inclined his head a bit, to the younger man, "was right all along. Isana, I offer you my full support in your crafting, as does Otto, here."

"I do?" Otto said. "Oh, I mean. Yes, of course. Isana, how could we have been so stupid. Of course we'll help."

"Child," Bitte called from beside Bernard's still form, her voice high, sharp. "Isana, there's no more time."

Isana turned to look at Bitte. The old woman's face had gone pale.

"Your brother. He's gone."

Tavi stumbled beneath the force of a sudden gust of wind. The girl caught his arm in one hand, keeping him upright, and with the other, she hurled a few scanty remnants of the salt crystals he'd given her a few hours before. There was a shriek from the faintly luminous form of the windmane behind the gust, and it withdrew.

"That's it," she called over the wind. "I'm out of salt!"

"Me, too!" Tavi answered her.

"Are we close 1?"

He squinted through the darkness and the rain, shivering and almost too cold to think. "I don't know," he said. "I can't see anything. We should be almost there,"

She shielded her eyes from the stinging half-sleet with her hand. "Almost won't be good enough. They're coming back."

Tavi nodded and said, "Keep your eyes out for firelight." He gripped her hand tightly in his, before stumbling forward, through the darkness. Her fingers tightened on his own. The slave was stronger than she looked, and even though his hand had long since gone mostly numb from the cold and the sleet, her grip was painful, frightened. The wind and the deadly manes within it yowled, driving and cold and furious.

"They're coming," she hissed. "If we're going to get out of this, it has to be right now."

"It's close. It's got to be." Tavi squinted against the blinding rain, peering ahead of them as best he could. Then he saw it, a faint golden radiance flickering at the edge of his vision. In the storm, he had gotten turned around somehow, and he swerved abruptly to one side, hauling on the girl's wrist. "There! The fire! It's right there! We have to run for it."

Tavi drove his exhausted body forward, toward the distant light, and the ground began to slope upward, rising steadily toward it. The curtains of sleet and rain blinded him and veiled the light, so that it flickered like a guttering candle, but Tavi kept his eyes doggedly locked on his destination Lightning snarled among the clouds m treacherous, blinding flashes, while the wind-manes howled out their wrath overhead

Tavi could hear the slave's labored, gasping breath even through the wind-she was evidently at the end of her endurance Her footsteps staggered, as they grew closer to the glowing firelight In the darkness, the wind-manes screeched, and Tavi looked back to see one of them swooping down through the sleet, its face twisted into a grimace of hatred and hunger

The girl's eyes widened as she saw Tavi's expression, and she began to spin about-but she was too late, her reaction too slow She couldn't possibly turn to defend herself in time

Tavi reached back and seized her wrist in both hands With the weight of his whole body, he hauled her forward, past him, and sent her stumbling toward the light ahead "Go'" he shouted "Get inside'"

The windmane hit Tavi, and there was suddenly no air in his lungs, no warmth in his limbs He felt his feet leave the ground, and he went tumbling, jouncing, and bounding down the slope and away from the shelter at its summit, blown like a leaf before the power of the storm He rolled, arms and legs loose, struggling to keep from stopping too abruptly, to guide his fall down the hill and to its base A grey stone appeared before his eyes in a flash of emerald lightning, and he felt himself scream as he flinched away from it

He caught a flash of light reflected on water, on the ground, and aimed himself toward it through the half dark, desperate and terrified He came to a halt in the mud pooling at the bottom of the hill beneath a finger-width of freezing water, his arms sinking into it halfway to his elbows He struggled and heaved them free of the muck, turning in time to see the windmane descend on him once more

Tavi rolled to one side, the sludge slowing his movements, and felt the wrndmane's deadly chill settle around his mouth and nose, cutting off his air He thrashed and flinched, but accomplished nothing He could no more keep the fury from blocking his air than he could spread his arms and fly above the storm

Tavi knew that he had only one chance, and that a slim one He struggled to his feet, then leapt into the air and hurled himself sprawling in the muck Cold, oozing mud and chilled water slithered over him, churned to the consistency of thick pudding by the storm He wriggled down deeper, forcing his face into the mud, then rolled to his back, covering himself in it

And suddenly, he could breathe again.

Tavi peered up at the windmane-but it wasn't facing him. The fury swirled and swooped around the point where it had first attacked him, its glowing, hungry eyes flicking back and forth. They never did settle on Tavi. The windmane screamed, and half a dozen of its fellows came looping down and around the area near where Tavi had fallen, spinning and spiraling, searching for him.

Tavi lifted a hand to brush mud from his eyes, a fierce grin stretching his lips. He'd been right. The earth. The earth that was the nemesis of furies of the air had covered him, hidden him from them. But it was bitterly, painfully cold. Tavi stared at the swirling windmanes and felt the chill settle into his bones. He was safe from the manes. But for how long?

The rain continued to pelt down, and muddy water dribbled into Tavi's eyes. The rain would wash his coating of mud away in short order, assuming he didn't simply collapse to the ground and freeze. Moving as quietly as he could, he reached down and scooped more mud into his hand, dumping it onto his belly and chest, where the rain had begun to make headway.

Tavi peered through the storm and up the gentle slope of the mound, to where the light burned at its top, outlining an opening in a dark structure, otherwise invisible in the night. He saw no sign of the slave-which meant that she was either safe or dead. Either way, he had done everything he could for the young woman. He let out a hiss of frustration.

Instantly, three of the windmanes spun their glowing eyes toward him and flowed through the air, directly at his mouth.

A yelp started in his chest, but he stifled it from reaching his throat- instead, rolling away, through the mud for several paces, and got to his feet. Looking back, he saw the furies of the storm swirling around the spot where he had lain. They could not see him, perhaps, but they could surely hear him. Even in the din of the storm, they had heard his breath. He scarcely dared to breathe now and wondered if they would hear him moving.