The Cursed Ones were slower to rise. Some crawled away. Other were killed by those centaurs who recovered first, but Alain could do nothing to help them, any of them. All he could do was help the shaman to rise. This close, he saw the horrible bruises across her torso, the marks of a whip, and the mangled stump of one ear, its tip cut clean off.
At last, Sos’ka appeared at his side, singed but living. “In the wagon,” she said. It was not easy to get Li’at’dano in, and a tight fit besides to place a centaur’s body in a bed meant for carrying two-legged creatures and their cargo. When they had done, other centaurs had already unfastened the stunned horses and harnessed themselves in their place.
“What did she do?” Alain asked, leaning on the wagon to catch his breath. His hair was finally beginning to settle. A huge scar marked the center of the road.
“Li’at’dano wields the weather magic,” said Sos’ka. “She called lightning.”
A new herd of centaurs galloped up, wielding torches like clubs as they scattered or killed the rest of the Cursed Ones. Only now could Alain hear the distant clash of battle by the fort, fading as wind rose up out the dark, a rushing in the nearby trees. He heard barking, coming closer.
Sos’ka whistled, and a centaur with burnt-butter-colored skin and a glossy gray coat trotted up. She carried a bow, with a quiver of arrows slung over her back. “He’ll need to ride if he’s to come with us,” said Sos’ka.
“He is not,” said Gray Coat. “His companions come now, on the backs of Ni’at’s foals. They must return to their own herd with this news.”
“Let him come before me.” The Holy One’s voice was soft, labored, yet it still sang sweetly. He turned to look. The shaman lifted her head, seeking; she seemed blind, although her eyes were open.
“Here I am,” he said, reaching out to touch her questing hand.
“Yes.” She caught hold of his fingers, her grip uncomfortably strong. “You are here. What is it that you wish to ask me?”
How did she know? “Are you the one called Liathano?” He stumbled over the pronunciation, trying it again. “Li’at’dano.”
“I am called Li’at’dano.” A thin smile teased her swollen lips. “But there is one who will be given my name in the time yet to come.”