Or die with him, eaten by zaybears in this empty pass and left as carrion for the vultures. No hope to be with Mikail in this life or the next. However, there’s no point in saying all that—and no time. I didn’t die in Fallow with the samroc, and I’m not dying tonight in Khitan.
I hope.
Gods on High, this is so damn foolish.
I take a breath and leap out of the sleigh. I land and roll into the powdery snow. Mikail is about thirty yards away from me, weaponless, with two juvenile zaybears circling him. The other two continue to chase the sleigh.
With my bow to my shoulder, I aim at the first zaybear. I focus on the chest cavity for a kill shot. I home my gaze behind the right shoulder of the beast where I can hit his vital organs.
I don’t think about Mikail or Royo or anything else. It’s just me, a hunt, and a snowy night. My aim will be true. The beast will drop when I shoot it.
My breathing slows, my mind quieting. I exhale, and I pull the trigger.
I don’t wait to see the animal fall, but I know it will. Instead, I cock the mechanism to reload the bow, put in another bolt, nock it, and bring it to my shoulder. I breathe and aim again, this time at the second beast. I look for the same place—behind the shoulder.
I fire.
A cry pierces the night. The second animal howls, but it continues to move. I don’t know how. I felled the first with one bolt. That zaybear lies dying on the snow. Dark blood pools underneath it. But the second is still very much alive and making a terrible sound, because the bolt hit the rib.
A clean hit to the rib bone—it’s the worst luck. And now the zaybear is injured but not dead. And very angry.
Gods on High.
I utter a long string of curses and reload to finish it off.
“Euyn!” Mikail yells. There’s terror in his eyes as he stares at something behind me.
I turn. The largest zaybear is sprinting toward us—the mother. She’s larger, faster, and more cunning than the juveniles. To make matters worse, I’ll also have to shoot her head-on.
Mikail runs up beside me, arriving in moments. I’m worried for both of us, and it’s impossible to block the world out this time. But with steady hands, I bring my bow to my shoulder. I aim for her neck as I can’t aim for her chest without hitting the breastbone. I exhale and shoot. Success rushes through me as the bolt is on target.
But at the last second, she swerves.
The bolt tip misses her neck and grazes her shoulder instead.
She’s bleeding, but not even slowed because I missed.
I can’t believe I missed. I don’t have time to reload. There are maybe eight seconds before she’ll reach us. Reloading and aiming takes longer than that.
Mikail has a short dagger drawn, but he can’t use that on a zaybear. He’ll be mauled to death before he can do any damage. But in his eyes, there’s the determination to try.
No. I won’t let him. I won’t let him die for me.
It feels like time slows, but last moments are always this way. There’s the clean scent of the snow on the wind. I exhale a cloud of heat into the frosty air. It’s a beautiful night, really—the moon is huge, so large it feels like I can reach up and touch it. And what closer feeling is there to being a god? I suppose the only thing closer has been loving Mikail. All the notes, the kisses, the nights spent in his arms. The feeling floods me.
The evening gets slower, quieter. The howling of the injured zaybear fades. I smile at Mikail. I see the boy he was and the man he became.
I’ve loved every version of him.
I toss my bow down and run at the zaybear. As she kills me, it will give Mikail time to escape, to find Royo and the sleigh. He’ll live another day.
With hard breaths, I make it one step, two. But arms wrap around me and pull me back. Mikail’s reflexes have always been unnaturally fast.
No! Foolish, stubborn, loving Mikail. He holds me as the zaybear leaps at us. We’re both going to die. All I wanted was to save him, but now we will die together. I suppose that’s still something—not dying alone.
Her claws are out, and her jaws are nearly on us. The smell of her breath is horrid, laced with the stench of rot and blood. I brace myself. Ready.
Suddenly, she falls from the air and careens into the snow. With a desperate cry, she rolls onto her side with an axe protruding from her spine.
