Diala and I are standing now. It’s safe—the statues nearest us have turned, and the whole army is marching towards the snakes.
But more Slythin are appearing over the green hills. Green and blue, purple and black, shimmering silver and gold—all the colors of the rainbow. The remains of the waxy substance coating them rubs off when they reach the sand.
The head snake is the largest by far. Its colors are as brilliant crimson as a juicy pomegranate seed, glistening against the chalky statues. And a figure is riding upon its back, a green dot on the shining red scales.
“Hunter,” I breathe. He’s riding the red Slythin, his hips rolling with ease. The slithering creature glides from regiment to regiment, the sinuous coils destroying soldiers with each graceful ripple.
Diala has gone stiff. “Who is that?”
“That's the Hunter King. He's come to save us.”
“No,” she says, tearing her hand away from mine. “I cannot go.”
She takes a few steps, but stops. There’s nowhere to run. And she can’t stay here.
The remaining troops march out, a foul cloud of dust rising under their stone boots. The horn blasts again and again, and more Slythin appear, turning the hills into a seething rainbow mass. The newcomers swarm over the desert and smother each squadron, leaving no statute standing.
The green tide has also advanced, coating the sand with moss and grass. Green-branched bushes sprout up here and there. The Slythin leader’s crimson folds shimmer against the bright grass.
The orange Slythin has crushed the regiment closest to us. Its coils crunch over the statues like boots tromping on broken pottery. The snake comes slithering forward. Diala whimpers.
“Omega,” someone shouts. It’s Brokk, riding on the orange Slythin’s back.
“I’m here,” I shout back.
The snake lowers its head until its jeweled eyes are level with ours. “It is you,” Brokk calls, shading his eyes against the bright suns. The haze has lifted off the land. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.” Where is Hunter? I want to ask, but the big crimson snake is far away to the left, destroying the statues near the horizon. “What's happening?
“I've never seen anything like it. We came to rescue you. The Slythin accosted us, but he was able to talk to them. He explained they were under the Stone King’s curse.”
“He explained?” I ask.
Brokk shrugs. “You know him.Curse. Go,” he grunts in imitation of Hunter. “He told me to get on this big guy.” Brokk pets the scaly neck. “He grunted and pointed. So I prayed to Ulf and climbed up. And here we are. The bravest Alphas joined us to defeat the Stone King’s army. I don’t know how the king knew, but he did.”
“And the forest following?” I point to the hills, where trees are sprouting on the edge of what used to be desert.
Brokk cranes his neck back. When he sees the freshly sprouted growth, he jerks in his seat. “Ulfdamn. That isn’t a sight you see every day.”
“The Forest King’s magic,” Diala murmurs. “There has not been a record of it in many years.”
Brokk’s gaze snaps to Diala. His eyes soften, and he puts a hand on his heart. “I have not had the pleasure of meeting you, lady.” His voice is a low purr.
Diala sniffs and looks away, but I feel a tremor run through her.
Beyond our vantage point, animated stone statues are attacking the Slythin with their spears. With enough jabs, they could sever a snake’s head from its neck. But from what I can tell from the wreckage of most of the regiments, the scaly beasts are winning.
Brokk is still staring at Diala, who’s refusing to look at him. The crimson snake’s scales glimmer in the corner of my eye.
“Hey, can you help us out?” I ask. “Give one of us a ride?”
“No,” Diala gasps, and steps back.
I pull her close. “It’s time to go.”
“With him?”
“Beggars can’t be choosers.” I drag her closer to the Slythin. “She’ll ride with you.”
