Llewellyn’s Song Read Free Page A

near. The scream came again.
    He sighed, called himself an imbecile, and darted into the
narrow passage, his bow held before him, an arrow nocked. He thought he would
be ready for anything. He didn’t expect to find a behemoth. The creature spun
around at his entrance and roared, its gigantic claw raised for attack. No time
to think, he let loose the arrow and nocked another, let it loose and grabbed
another, all the while backing out of the cave.
    He’d need a hundred arrows before he could kill a behemoth.
The beast roared and swiped at him, the great, curving claws striking the
rocks, sending chips of stone flying. Llewellyn aimed and shot, catching the
beast in the eye. It might not blind him completely, but it would hurt it and
give him time to think of something. The beast’s roar nearly deafened him. The
cave echoed with its cry and a huge crack appeared in the wall. A boulder fell,
missing him by inches.
    Llewellyn raced outside and headed uphill, leaping from
boulder to boulder, anxious to put distance between him and the creature. It
followed him, bellowing with rage. He turned and loosed yet another arrow.
Three lodged in the beast’s chest, one in its eye, and the last one he shot hit
it squarely in the other eye. Llewellyn sent a silent prayer of thanks to his
archery instructor and crouched low while the behemoth lumbered toward him.
Then he spotted the cliff. He hesitated, then taking a deep breath, he yelled
hoarsely and sprinted to the edge.
    Putting himself on the edge of the cliff and shouting had
seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, with the behemoth crashing toward
him, its fanged mouth open in a snarl, its claws flashing, he had a sudden
doubt. And what if the beast could see him clearly? He’d end up a dead elf,
that’s what.
    He tensed, then as the behemoth made one last lunge he leapt
sideways, kicking out at the huge shoulder as he went by. The behemoth sailed
over the cliff, its roar of fear growing fainter until cut off by a tremendous
thud, then silence.
    Llewellyn peered over the edge and winced. Not a pretty
sight. He glanced back at the cave. What had the behemoth captured? Whatever it
was, he hoped it still lived. Behemoths didn’t take small bites.
    He slithered down the slope, picked up a couple stray
arrows, then hesitantly made his way into the cavern. The sun shining at his
back lit up the cave. On the floor, in deep shadow, lay a woman. Noiselessly,
he walked to her, his heart heavy. He’d arrived too late. Her neck was bent at
an impossible angle, her face turned toward the entrance, her eyes wide and
unseeing. Sorrow sent him to his knees, and he put his hand on the ground,
touched warm blood. Warm?
    His shadow darkened her face and her pupils widened. Alive,
but barely! He took her hand and felt for a pulse. Faint and uneven. All right,
he was a healer, after all. He reached for his medicine bag, tied to his waist,
and drew out a branch of balsam. He held it inches from her lips and breathed
on it gently and steadily until the branch glowed with a faint light. Her
spiritual energy, or chi,still answered, and the balsam would keep it
safe. Laying it on her chest, he rested his fingertips lightly on her stomach.
He closed his eye and concentrated, feeling his own chi leave his body through
his fingertips and enter hers.
    His chi shuddered. So much damage had been done. One kidney
had been crushed, her back had been broken, her leg shattered and several ribs
snapped. Her heart still beat strongly and the bleeding had mostly stopped,
partly from loss of blood pressure and partly from shock. He reached deeper
into himself and found the energy he would need. Carefully he set it aside,
picturing it in a golden ball, captive. Then he took a deep breath and cast his
mind out of the cave. No one would answer his song, he had to do this alone.
    He needed fire and air, water and earth. The woman’s
injuries would require days of healing. His strength would have to be parceled
out and