Soul of Kandrith (The Kandrith Series) Read Free

upstream until he lay not far from the shandy’s broad yellow side. She closed his hand around the shandy’s tail, then took up guard with the spear.
    The shandy’s blood stopped flowing. Damaged muscle knitted together again, and fur grew over the gaping spear wound. The scent of flowers drifted through the air.
    The shandy stirred, ears flattened. Baring its teeth again, it turned its head toward Lance.
    Sara rapped its nose to draw its attention to her. Another ripping snarl and a swipe from its claws. She readied her spear to kill it, but then it opened its eyes and cocked its ears. “Sarrra? Why did you hit me?”
    It looked at Sara’s face when it asked the question. Lance had told her that meant a person was talking to her and that she should reply. She supposed the rule also applied to shandies.
    “I hit you because you hurt Lance.”
    “Lance?” The shandy sniffed. “He’s herrre? He must have healed me.” The great cat lunged to its feet, but didn’t attack. “The spearrr! I need to tell him—I have to find—” The shandy stopped speaking, gazing down at Lance’s prone body. “What’s wrrrong with him?”
    “He has a stomach tumour. You clawed him, then he fell in the stream and almost drowned,” Sara recounted, still holding the spear.
    The shandy made its peculiar wordless noise again. “Oh, no, I hurrrt him? I’m so sorrry.”
    “Yes, you hurt him,” Sara answered the question. The apology was irrelevant. “Are you going to attack him again?”
    “Of courrrse not,” the shandy growled. It paced forward and sniffed Lance. “How can we help him?”
    “He needs to warm up. Lie beside him.” Sara put down the spear, then fetched a blanket from Lance’s abandoned pack and spread it over him.
    The shandy curled its large body around Lance while Sara gathered sticks and kindling and piled them on the muddy bank. She removed the flint and striker from Lance’s belt purse and struck several sparks. One took and she fed the tiny flame.
    Once the fire was established, Sara examined his scratches. Only a little blood seeped out, but the cuts were already puffy and swollen.
    “Will he rrrecoverrr?” The shandy flattened its ears.
    “I don’t know,” Sara said. An infection on top of his tumour might well kill him. Her hand shook, and she dropped the bandage. Odd. She wasn’t usually clumsy.
    “Wenda told everrryone what you did, the sacrrrifice you made. I wanted to say how grrrateful we all arrre.”
    Sara kept bandaging.
    When she finished, the shandy stood up. “I’m sorrry, but I can’t stay any longerrr. The man who spearrred me, my prrrisoner—I have to rrrecapture him beforrre the rrrain wipes away his trrrail. If he escapes, the Rrrepublic will invade Kandrrrith again. I can’t let that happen. I prrromised I’d guarrrd him and instead I—” The shandy hung its great head for a moment. “I have to make it rrright. Do you underrrstand?”
    “No.” Lance was more important than a prisoner.
    “Lance will underrrstand. If I pass a village, I’ll send help.”
    The big cat returned to where it had bled, sniffed the grass, then bounded upstream.
    Sara fed the fire and counted her pulse. Every thousand heartbeats, she checked Lance to make sure his skin was warm and that he breathed.
    Lance had instructed her to continue down the road if he died, to seek first Julen and then Lance’s sister. She usually did what Lance said, but didn’t think she would this time.
    Other people were like dim shadows, easy to ignore. They moved and talked, but possessed no meaning. Sara didn’t trouble to remember their names. Lance mattered. His voice resonated in her ear. She heard everything he said. To her perception, he seemed sharper, as if outlined in light.
    He tethered her to life.
    If he died, she would sit here until she wasted away.

Chapter Two
    A muscular man burst out of the trees, snatched up the
spear she’d dropped and shouted, “Don’t move!”
    From her place next to