Every muscle in my body coils tight. Knife ready. Breath shallow.
The cactus pods glow faint blue around me, their pulsing light beating like a second heart. Shadows shift between the stalks. Isquint, searching, every nerve stretched so tight I swear I’ll split in two.
A hiss slices through the stillness.
Then it erupts.
The creature bursts from behind the cactus with shocking speed, a blur of bronze scales and clawed limbs. Six legs hammer the stone, belly low and armored. Its eyes gleam a sickly yellow, slit pupils snapping straight to me.
I stumble back a step, jerking my knife up. Almost too late—its jaws gape wide, needle fangs dripping venom that hisses before it even touches stone.
It spits.
A glob of burning green liquid splatters the ground where I stood a heartbeat ago. Rock sizzles, spitting smoke. My stomach lurches—if that had hit my skin…
The beast lunges, claws raking. I throw myself sideways, roll hard and come up slashing. My knife slices across one leg, shallow but enough to draw a screech.
The sound curdles the air.
It whirls, faster than it should be able to with a body that heavy. Fangs snap at me, hot venom splattering my sleeve. Cloth hisses, burning away. My skin sears where the droplets land, sharp fire racing up my arm.
I scream, not in pain or fear, but in fury, as I drive the knife again. This time I strike the soft seam between armored plates. The blade sinks shallowly, tearing loose when the creature thrashes. Blood, dark and oily, splatters across the stone.
The beast shrieks, enraged, and slams me with its forelimb. The blow sends me sprawling. Rocks gouge into my hip. My knife skitters from my grip.
No. Not like this.
I claw for the blade, fingers closing just as the monster rears back. Its throat swells, venom bubbling thick between its fangs. It’s going to spit, going to melt me down to nothing.
I lunge forward with a raw cry, knife in both hands. Pain burns my arm, venom eating fire through my veins, but I don’t care. I stab, again and again, teeth bared in defiance. I will not fold.
The blade cuts shallow grooves across its armored jaw. Not enough. Never enough. The beast rears higher, shadow blotting out the faint light of the cactus pods.
This is it.
And then—movement blurs at the edge of my vision.
The scarred Zmaj explodes into motion. One moment still, the next a storm.
He brings the lochaber down in a sweeping arc. The blade cleaves straight through the beast’s neck. Venom sprays wide, sizzling on stone, smoking in the air. I throw myself aside, coughing as the stink burns my throat.
The creature collapses with a wet crash. Its body twitches once, claws scraping futilely against the rock, then goes limp. The only sound left is the hiss of venom eating into the ground and the ragged thunder of my breathing.
I press a hand against the burn lacing my arm, teeth clenched. My chest heaves, my legs shake, but I’m still standing. And when I drag my gaze up, he’s there.
The scarred warrior stands over the carcass, lochaber dripping dark blood. His chest rises and falls evenly, not strained, as if cleaving down monsters is nothing but routine. His eyes meet mine, black and fathomless, and hold.
Not scorn. Not pity. Something heavier. My breath hitches.
I had it—I want to say—or I almost had it—but my voice won’t come. Only the pounding echo of my heart in my ears, and the truth that I’d be dead without him. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t mock but looks at me long enough that my skin burns hotter than the venom.
Then he cleans the blade with a slow, deliberate scrape against stone.
My arm burns. I pull the tattered remains of my sleeve back and hiss. The skin is raw and red, already swelling in a jagged line where the venom splattered. It throbs like fire crawling under my flesh. My fingers tremble—I tell myself not from fear—but from the sheer, blistering ache.
I crouch, knife still clutched in my good hand, unwilling to let it go. My eyes drag back to the beast sprawled across the rocks. Six legs. Scaled hide. Mouth full of fangs still dripping venom. Its sheer size makes my stomach twist.
I fought that. I stood my ground. Yet without him, I’d be nothing more than bones melting into this stone.
