Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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If two of you go then one will be left here, with me. If all three of you stay…" He let the words trail off.
My cue. Now, to make them break and run. She flung the knife and felt her control slip as it left her
fingers, the blade clattering off the armor of the spearman, dull, dead metal. She wasted no strength
making it glow. So natural a thing, to miss; only too human.
That's it, shit! They'll see through it all, stop being afraid, and he's rat-bait… It failed; I failed.
First I decide to save him, then can't. She hissed air through her teeth, clung to what she still had—the
bright, fierce glare of the knives. The bone-rattling hum, seemingly rising out of the ground itself, cut off,
letting the silence of the woods around them crash on their ears.
But Chevenga flung his sword. The Arkan below him had turned his head toward Megan, trying to see
where the knife had come from; now the short Yeoli blade blazed like the enchanted ones in ballads as it
buried itself in his neck, a golden lightning bolt flung from the Hanged One.
The two remaining Arkans hesitated a moment longer, gripping their torches, mouths working, looked at
each other, and then ran as if the Dark Lord himself drooled on their heels.
It's over. We did it. For a moment Megan couldn't believe. She leaped up, staggered, and let all her
brightnesses die, leaving only the light of torches half-foundering in the brush.My head feels peeled open.
It wasn't much but lights, but for how long ? She wanted to throw up.Why not ? She did, into the
brush. As the Arkans' yells faded, silence thickened; she felt her blood thunder in her head.Over , she
thought vaguely, bending to gather up the dagger lying in the grass.
"Megan." The same voice that had seemed to echo doom through her skull now came small and weak
with fatigue and pain, human.Koru, you fool, he's wounded . "I can't cut myself down. I don't carry as
many sharp edges as you . . "A short sword and two daggers, all he had… he'd thrown his last blade.
She heard distant alarm-yells.Not over . She felt near fainting, shook it off.Find strength somehow …
A sound came from him like a sob…no , she thought giddily,it's too fast . Slowly it came to her: he was
laughing.
She looked up at him, still swinging gently, his face dripping with sweat and blood mixed, right fist
pressed into left arm to stanch the flow, helplessly giggling, eyes closed and gold teeth bared, each
panting gout of laughter louder than the one before.
You think this is funny, she hissed inwardly.That it's a big joke that my head feels like Jade Button
Third Rank is sticking his knitting needles into my temples, I'm so spent all I want to do is fall over
but I still have to rescue you, Invincible, Imperturbable, Gold-bottom, up there dangling in the
breeze bleeding like a stuck pig … A chuckle burst up out of her chest, turned into a guffaw.Madness
is catching . "I should leave you up there like a side of beef!" No help, it just made him laugh harder.
She headed for the tree, feeling her second wind.
"Wait, there's rocks under me… forget it, there's no time, just cut me loose." Arkan yells grew more
numerous; soon they'd come in crowds. She doused the torches on the ground—too easy to find us
that way—hauled herself up the tree on her claws. Its bark was smooth enough to slide out on the limb
without too much snagging; Bowed by his weight, it bent more still under hers. She looked down at the
soles of his boots in starlight, saw the faint glearn of his eyes and grinning teeth, as he bent his head to
look up at her. "Shit. Those pig-sucking bastards are too cheap even to have a spare loop of rope to let