Wren could feel his own legs burning, his lungs fighting for air.
“Have you got any tranquilizers on you?”
Saint patted his small satchel. “Enough to put down a horse, not a mythical beast the size of a bus.”
“I suppose we’re about to find out how much it takes.”
“We are?” Saint squeaked. “How? We can’t get close to that thing.”
Wren gave him a smile. “Ever heard of something called a Hail Mary?”
“Of course I have. It was what we did when we ran off into the woods alone in the first place! What has that got to do with this?”
“In the cursebreaker space, that shit was named after me.”
“What?”
“Look it up later. Now, you’re going to go left and circle back around.”
“What—”
“LEFT!”
Saint cursed and ran left as Wren stopped in his tracks in a small clearing of trees, there was just enough space for him to maneuver, but not enough for the liger.
Sable stood at his hip and Blu hovered overhead, ready to face it together. Wren wished he could convince them to leave, but he knew it was futile. They were connected and he needed to trust them just like they’d trusted him.
The liger, seeing three prey instead of one, concentrated on Wren like he knew it would. It slowed its gait and began prowling toward him, winding its massive body through the trees, making some of the smaller ones shake and creak.
Wren kept some distance, moving in a circle as it did and never showing his back.
“Okay, darling, let’s see if we can talk about this,” Wren said.
He received a growl in answer. Sable snarled back.
“I know that asshole hurt you. He hurt me too. He’s hurting someone I care about very much right now. So you and me are going to have to come to some sort of agreement here.”
Huge paws with claws the size of stakes continued their journey toward him. Red eyes flashed with madness, and Wren couldn’t see a way through the haze. He could feel a visible block, the cursework stronger than anything he’d had to break before.
It seemed to enrage the liger more, likely by design, and it roared, pouncing for him.
Wren barely moved out the way in time, feeling a stray claw clip his arm and immediately sending blood pouring.
He hissed at the sting, clutching the area as he hurried away while Sable darted forward and took a swipe for the liger’s maw in retaliation.
They traded blows, Sable keeping to the backside to try and bring the liger down and avoid the worst of its bites and swipes. But it was only so long before a hit sent him flying.
Wren dove in front of Sable with his arms stretched out.
Wren could feel the effects of the venom still lingering in his system, and he tried to remember what it had felt like in themachine. How he had managed to draw on that power when he needed it.
Wren could feel his heart racing with fear, but he held strong as the liger approached, blood on its mouth and body from the fight.
“Please let me help you,” Wren begged, staring into the creature’s eyes and looking for a way in past the madness and bloodlust.
He could almost feel its hurt, the beat of its heart in time with his own.
It shook its head like it was trying to shake him off and took another step toward him. Wren didn’t back up, he let it come, pushing at that spot.
