But it was empty.
There was no body. No bones. Nothing at all to suggest anything had been placed inside.
Yara Liliana wasn’t here.
I almost didn’t hear the sound coming from behind me; I was too focused on the empty sarcophagus. Qian did, though. He grabbed me tightly around the arm and yanked me off my feet.
My back hit the floor of the mausoleum, and I let out a yelp, but Qian clamped his hand over my mouth and put his own fingers to his lips, quieting me.
In a panic, I tried to shove him off, but the fear in his eyes made me freeze, and that’s when I heard it, too—the heavy whoosh of wings pumping through the air, massive and rhythmic.
Qian lifted his hand off my mouth, and I hardly dared to breathe. We were so close to each other—he was shielding me with his body; our hearts were practically touching. He leaned over me, turning his head ever so slightly to see out the open door.
Every bone in my body was trembling. I couldn’t even think. Instead, I focused on the lines of Qian’s face, the edge of his jaw, the thump of his pulse in his neck, the curve of his ear. He didn’t seem to be breathing, either.
Whatever had made that noise, it sounded like it was moving away from us, the flap of its wings growing fainter.
Then the ground shook, and the both of us tensed up. Something huge had landed just outside the mausoleum, but I couldn’t see what it was. I didn’t think Qian could, either. His gaze was hard, fixed on the open door, ready to strike. The creature squawked and chattered like a bird, and then there came a sound like branches breaking, followed by a horrible squelching noise. That was when I realized it wasn’t branches breaking—it was bones and flesh. The sound turned my stomach.
There was another rush of flapping wings, this time far away, and a shadow cut across the door when something took to the sky. Was there more than one?
But all had gone quiet outside. Qian and I waited with bated breath, listening, but I couldn’t hear anything except for my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.
Was it gone?
Qian looked at me, grim determination setting into his features. He mouthed, “Stay here.”
I shook my head, but he lifted himself off me and went to the door, crouching low. He slipped his bow off his back and peered around the corner into the graveyard and then darted out into the open, leaving me in the mausoleum. He was quiet as a hunter.
A mixture of panic and frustration swirled inside me. I didn’t know what to do, but I didn’t want to hide here and leave Qian all alone. I scrambled to my feet and looked out into the graveyard. It was empty, with no sign of Qian or whatever that thing was. Was it safe to go out?
“Qian?” I whispered once, and then again, a little louder, “Qian.”
No answer.
I didn’t like this. Light on my toes, I left the mausoleum and crept across the grass. Nothing moved among the headstones, and I couldn’t find any trace of Qian. I moved around the building, keeping an eye on the sky, and stumbled upon a collection of large branches nestled up against the back of the mausoleum. At first, I thought it was the result of a fallen tree, but the closer I looked, the more I realized how precisely the branches had been placed.
It was a nest.
Inside it were a few eggs, each as large as a basketball, and nestled among them was a decapitated horse’s head. It stared at me with lifeless white eyes, its blood coating the nest’s branches. I stumbled back and clamped my hand over my mouth to stop from screaming. We needed to get out of here right now.
A shadow loomed over me, and I looked up.
Sitting on top of the mausoleum roof, its wings spread wide enough to block the sun, was a giant birdlike creature, almost as big as the mausoleum itself. It had scales and feathers, and its black eyes were fixated on me.
I froze, cold with dread.
Talons the size of kitchen knives clutched the mausoleum roof, and its wings looked just as razor-like, with feathers glistening like blades. The creature opened its beak and revealed dozens of sharp teeth. It let out an earsplitting shriek, then leapt from the roof, talons pointing at me.
I screamed and threw out my hands.
An arrow sliced through the air from my right, hitting the bird in the eye. It let out a screech and crumpled to the ground at my feet. It was dead in an instant.
“MJ!” Qian ran out from his cover behind a headstone and rushed to my side.
I grabbed on to him, clinging for dear life as he wrapped his arm around me and held me tight. I buried my face in his shirt. “I thought I was going to die!”
“Are you all right?” he asked. He held me at arm’s length and looked me over, brushing my hair out of my face, worry hardening his eyes. He’d saved me. He was a real hero.
