River’s voice snaps us both back to reality. We rush to Nala’s side just as she winces, pushing herself upright. Her eyes dart immediately to her leg, confusion tightening her features.
“Take it easy,” River murmurs, settling a hand behind her back. She frowns, breath wobbling.
“W-what happened?” she asks, the pain clear in her voice.
“The tenari,” River explains softly. “It threw you into the tree. And when Asha killed it… one of its legs fell on you.” His jaw tightens at the memory.
“I wrapped it as best I could, but we need to get out of the Hollow before I can heal you properly,” I say.
Nala nods weakly—then her gaze drifts, landing on the sword resting beside me. Her eyes widen.
“Did you make that?” she asks, awe slipping into her voice despite everything.
“Oh—um, yes. I… I’m not really sure how,” I admit, suddenly aware of the weight of the blade and the weight of everything else.
“I’m just glad you did.”
She offers me a small, tired smile—warm and grateful. And it twists something inside me, because if she knew the truth.
If she knew I was the reason all of this was happening.
I don’t think she’d smile at me at all.
The ground shudders again—violent enough to snap every muscle in my body taut. Not the deep, writhing tremor of the tenari. This is different. Heavier. Like somethinglanded.
A tree cracks and crashes nearby.
I whirl toward the others. “You have to get Nala,” I whisper urgently. “We need to go.Now.”
They move instantly.
Ryder scoops Nala up and shifts her carefully over his shoulder just as the earth trembles again—slow, deliberate steps this time. Whatever it is, it’s walking.
“We can’t run,” Ryder breathes. “It’ll hear us. We hide.”
We scramble behind the nearest tree, dropping into a crouch as the undergrowth swallows us. Leaves and thorny shrubs claw at my skin as I peer through the gaps. Nala hisses softly when Ryder adjusts his grip, and I press a hand over her mouth, my pulse roaring louder than my thoughts.
Then I see it.
Something enormous emerges from behind the tenari’s corpse.
‘Squark.’
The sound comes from above.
A bird—if you can call it that—slams into the clearing. Its beak is a hooked slash of red, jagged and obscene, like it was never meant to exist, and its feathers are an array of murky greens, like algae blooming on a dark lake and blending intothe Hollow. Its onyx talons punch straight through the tenari’s shield as if it’s paper, and I choke back a sound as its teeth tear into the body, ripping, gorging.
It must have smelled the blood.
The ground jolts again.
Another one crashes through the canopy, branches exploding under its weight. It lunges for the corpse—but the first bird flares its wings, massive and threatening.
The second doesn’t hesitate.
It sweeps a wing out, knocking the first creature off its feet with a thunderous impact. The fallen bird shrieks, scrambling upright as the other charges. Talons rake across its face, drawing dark blood. The scream that follows is piercing,wrong. The wounded bird snaps back, pecking wildly, one strike landing in its rival’s eye.
I can barely breathe.
