The Immortal Words (The Grave Kingdom), стр. 22
He pursed his lips and stared at her for a moment, deep in thought. “I suppose that means emotions are important, then.”
It was strange, but talking with him had begun to soothe her. The floodwaters were starting to recede. When she heard the night bird’s call again, it didn’t sound as haunting.
She rested her ear on her forearm, gazing up at the stars, which appeared in swarms of milky light. The emotions were still there, and still strong, but they weren’t so raw anymore. Even her feelings for Rowen.
She closed her eyes, sinking deep into herself. This time, she found the thread more quickly than before, pulled taut in the midst of her deep, complicated feelings for Rowen. Biting her bottom lip, she felt along the thread until she reached his presence.
The two companions had begun walking through the overgrown terrain beneath the night sky, still lightened by stars and the colorful streamers of the Woliu, now behind them. Bingmei leaned on Quion for strength, but any pressure against her side brought agony. The snow leopard followed them in gloomy silence. Although it seemed to have overcome its own injury from the battle with the dragon, every once in a while, Bingmei saw it stagger in pain.
Then she sensed the dragons coming.
They pressed on, weaving through the thickly forested floor of the valley, passing huge columns of rock that loomed above them. They were deep in the gorge now, led by Bingmei’s connection to the phoenix shrine. Lights from the drifting colors crept closer to them as the night progressed. Soon the sun would rise, and they’d have to take cover again. The long walk had exhausted her, and blood loss had also taken its toll. She began to stumble as she walked, kept upright only by Quion. When they attempted to climb over a mound of sharp stones, she fell, cutting her hand on the stone. She breathed in and out, trying to stifle the pain.
“Maybe we should rest a bit,” Quion suggested, panting.
“We’re so close,” she whispered, looking ahead into the darkness. Glancing back the way they’d come, she could see the streamers brightening the sky, dancing between the fingerlike peaks of stone. Even in the dark, she saw the wind shake the trees that grew on top of most of the columns. She could hear the distant shrieks of the horde of dragons. “We have to keep going.”
“Some water first.” He unhooked his flask, took a drink, and offered it to her.
The water reinvigorated them, and they continued through the woods, following the stream through the valley.
Then the snow leopard growled.
Bingmei and Quion froze when they heard a rustling in the trees. At first she thought it was an elk, but the disturbance was too big, and when she caught a glimpse of the creature’s pelt, it was white. A bear appeared in the trees, following the edge of the stream but coming directly toward them.
The scent of fear, hers and Quion’s, filled her nose.
“Let’s get out of its way,” Quion whispered.
Bingmei nodded. The bear was absolutely huge. It gave a yawning moan as it lumbered toward them. When they left the stream, heading deeper into the brush, it followed them, pawing away at low-hanging branches.
“I can’t run,” Bingmei said, wincing. The thought of jumping with the cricket filled her with agony.
The leopard snarled and slipped in front of them, hissing in warning. The huge ice bear yawned again, letting out another growl. Quion gripped the meiwood staff he’d been carving and stepped in front of Bingmei.
“A stick won’t hurt that thing,” she warned. She reached for her blade and drew it. The movement wrenched her side, causing a wave of dizziness.
Quion planted his boots and hefted the staff with both hands. “Get out of here. Go away. Rah!” He shook the staff, but the great beast was not in the least bit intimidated.
The snow leopard dropped low, its head swishing from side to side. It yowled a warning to the bear.
“Get out of here. Rah!” Quion shouted again.
The noise would attract the dragons. She could sense them still, coming their way with the light of the Woliu.
A sickening dread filled her. They were so close, so very close. If it were dawn, she’d be able to see their destination.
The beast scratched its long claws against a tree trunk, slicing stripes into the wood, and then started to lumber around the final tree separating them.
Quion jabbed the end of the staff right into the bear’s snout, yelling in challenge once more.
Its low growl came like a rumbling thunderhead. Bingmei knew it was going to charge. She didn’t have the strength to repel it, but she needed the strength.
She gripped the sword, which felt heavy in her hands.
A loud trilling suddenly rent the air, as if three dozen birds had started to sing at once. Bingmei glanced up, but she couldn’t see any of them. It sounded as if the birds were scolding the bear.
The huge beast cocked its head, listening, then turned and lumbered back to the stream.
Quion lowered the staff, breathing fast, his scent now mixed with that of cold sweat. She came up behind him, putting away her sword before placing a hand on his shoulder. The leopard continued to growl at the bear as it left them.
The sky brightened overhead as they continued walking. Behind them, the lights from the Woliu began to fade, but she could still sense the dragons, searching feverishly for their quarry. The sky felt charged with lightning.
Morning mist rose from the streams weaving through the crags in the valley, mixing with the lush green vegetation. Mist, trees, and pillared crags stretched before them in an endless scene.
But there was one pillar that caught her attention. It wasn’t the tallest, although