Set in Stone Read Free Page A

sharply cloven hoof and centered the single long horn in its forehead on Connor.
    A real live torc! Connor knew the mountains around Alasdair better than anyone. He'd tracked or taken nearly every kind of game, and even located the nearest pedra's lair, although he hadn't yet built up the courage to actually spy on the monster. He'd never even glimpsed a torc.
    The beast took a single step toward him and grunted, a low rumbling sound like thirty wolf-hounds growling together that chased away some of the wonder. Built low to the ground, it still stood a full six feet at the shoulder, and its torso, from its thick neck to its muscled haunches, stretched even longer.
    Connor tried to breathe slowly. Torcs roamed unpopulated parts of the Maclachlan Mountains and, unless angered, generally ignored people. At least that's what the stories said.
    The only problem was, this one looked furious.
    The beast bellowed a single deep note that triggered a flutter of icy fear in Connor, and he took a single, involuntary step back.
    The torc charged.
    It surged forward surprisingly fast despite an ungainly gait, as if its legs couldn't quite bend far enough. Even so, its low-slung body raced up the slope with terrifying speed.
    Connor raised his bow despite the growing urge to turn and flee. If Hamish were here, he'd have already soiled himself and tried to run. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to run, and fleeing would only encourage the beast. He had no illusion that he could outrun it, and he shivered at the thought of that long horn plunging into his back.
    Too bad Stuart's not here.
    Then he wouldn't have to worry about outrunning the torc. He'd only have to outrun Stuart.
    Connor planted his feet and drew confidence from the bow's solid weight. He'd trained hard for the past two years and had taken deer, mountain goats, and even one of the huge, flightless eoin birds.
    The constant dull itch of his Curse intensified and raced along his limbs. He pushed the distraction aside and took a deep breath as he drew the goose-feathered shaft to his cheek. The familiar strain of holding the weapon steady as he aimed at the torc, only thirty yards away, helped him regain his hunting calm.
    The monster sounded like an avalanche as it galloped up the slope toward Connor, and he felt the vibrations rattle up through his boots. He refused to acknowledge the growing fear, and held his breath for a single heartbeat that thundered through his chest. His vision contracted to a point on the torc's head where the arrow would strike. In that second, he felt connected to the beast across the distance.
    Connor released the string with a twang, and the arrow leaped away. It struck true but snapped against the heavily armored head.
    Connor's calm vanished. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. His tongue felt like a lead weight and his arms itched so bad he could barely think. The shaking of the ground grew more pronounced as the mighty beast bore down on him.
    Connor snatched another arrow and, as he nocked it, he recognized it by the single black feather. He snarled at the torc as he took aim. His hand had somehow found his lucky arrow, the arrow that never missed, never broke, and always took down its target.
    Fifteen yards.
    With soaring confidence, he released.
    The arrow slammed into the torc's thick gray hide in the center of its chest. The steel point snapped off at impact, and the shaft splintered under churning hooves.
    "No fair," Connor shouted. There was no time to draw another arrow, no time to run.
    Rage at the loss of his lucky arrow burned away some of the desperate fear, while the itch of his Curse blossomed all through his torso, magnifying the rage into a towering fury.
    He charged.
    Connor shouted a wordless bellow and lunged forward to meet the onrushing monster, swinging his bow like a club. It slammed into the torc's head, across one heavy-browed black eye and snapped.
    The beast flinched and, instead of impaling him, the long horn