When they were a mere twenty feet away, he paused abruptly, gesturing for the others to do the same. Slower to register the sign than the others, Thia bumped into Oskaren as she halted in front of her. The girl shot her an amused look that was vaguely reminiscent of a cat playing with a bug it had just killed, and she resisted the urge to flip the girl off.
Movement flickered in her periphery. To her right, Thran was visibly shaking. She knew Dess had called him a coward, but seeing a grown man display that much fear chilled her.
Dess scanned the boulders, squinting in the dark. “I thought I saw….”
Screeches split the night. A horde of nÿgens tore around the boulders, scuttling toward them.
While the memory of their pale scaly bodies and rusty fangs was burned into Thia’s mind, the creatures seemed bigger at night, their red eyes eerily bright. She was a statue, unable to move, to think above the pounding of her blood, as they closed the distance faster than their stocky legs should have allowed.
Something yanked on her arm.
Dess.
“Run, Thia!” he hollered, dragging her into motion.
She tore after him, drawing her dagger, though she was more likely to skewer herself than one of the creatures after seventeen years of being told not to run with scissors. She couldn’t see Oskaren and Thran, but assumed they were somewhere in front. She urged her legs to pump faster as the cold night air burned her lungs.
It was no use. The nÿgens were gaining, and Thia had never been an athlete. With her attention on the ground, she felt rather than saw the teeth tear into her arm. A warm maw gripped her wrist, and she instinctively slashed with her knife. There was a yelp of pain, and the thing released her, but in the chaos of the moment she dropped it. She bent, scanning the long grass, and another beast barreled into her shoulder.
Thia stumbled sideways, managing to catch herself before she fell, but that only gave her full view of the teeth that careened for her throat. She yelled, throwing up her arm. A blade flashed. Silver blood spurted, spattering her face, and then the thing dropped to her feet before its bite could land.
Oskaren stood in its place, eyes glittering dangerously. “That’s twice I’ve saved you.”
Thia wiped blood from her cheeks with the back of her arm. She doubted the girl’s motivations were selfless, not when she needed Thia to get close to the king. She contemplated reminding Oskaren that she’d also saved her life, from something arguably more fatal.
But then Oskaren lunged toward her, knife in hand. Thia yelped, flinching back, and the girl shoved the handle into her palm, lips twitching with amusement. “Slash, don’t stab,” she instructed. Then her expression hardened. “Duck.”
Thia obeyed. Oskaren yanked a third knife from her belt and whipped it over Thia’s shoulder. It whistled just past her ear, raising a tendril of her hair. Behind her, there was athunkand a squeal of pain as it found its target.
There was no time to investigate. Four more nÿgens descended, and Oskaren raised her sword in two hands, grimacing. “Ready yourself.”
Thia had a better idea. She ran.
Not out of fear, though she had plenty. To split their attack, so they wouldn’t be surrounded.
Well, it was a better idea in theory, but worse in practice when her foot struck a rock hidden by the tall grass. She tripped and went sprawling, two nÿgens on top of her.
Fangs snapped for her throat. She bucked, twisting, and they sank into her forearm instead. Something sharp stung her leg—the second creature biting into her calf. She kicked out, dislodging it, then swung her arm and managed to strike the one on her chest with Oskaren’s blade. Too late, she realized she’d forgotten the girl’s instruction. It sank hilt-deep, and she was unable to pull it free. The creature tackled her again, enraged now, its weight pressing the air from her lungs.
“Oskaren!” she wheezed. If the girl was nearby, Thia was too buried in nÿgens to see. She continued to flail, thanking her lucky stars as footsteps sounded. “Oskaren!” The creature lunged for her face; she battled it back with her arms and managed to turn her head toward her rescuer. But it wasn’t Oskaren. It was Thran. She locked eyes with him, nÿgen saliva dripping onto her chin. “Thran, help!” The one she’d kicked returned, pinning her properly. “Thran!”
She knew he’d heard, because he raised his sword, lips forming her name. But as the nÿgen lowered its teeth to her shoulder, hideous snout blocking her view, those same heavy footfalls retreated.
A falcon screamed, and somewhere in the distance a boy shouted. Thia scrambled in the dirt, searching for a rock, a stick, anything. Her fingers came up empty. The creature on her chest dug into her shoulder, while the one on her lower half sunk its teeth fully into her thigh. She cried out, pain lancing across her body.
A boom echoed, so loud she would have put hands over her ears if she could have. Blue light flashed, and phantom hands yanked her torso, dislodging the nÿgens. She soared through the air, arms and legs flailing, until she was face down in the dirt again.
Shouts rang out—voices she didn’t recognize. The huff of a nÿgen echoed somewhere too close for comfort, followed by the rustle of feet through the grass. Something slimy licked her ear. Sharp claws dug into the wound on her calf, and she screamed.
Another bang.
A cloud of blue mist encircled her.
The beast shrieked. Then disintegrated into ash.
In its place stood a tall, lithe man, his skin pale white in the moonlight, wispy brown hair capped by a jaunty hat. He held out a hand. “Can you stand?”
She hesitated a moment, scanning the grass for her companions. Dess was on his feet, flanked by two large soldiers in red, griffons roaring on their chests. Oskaren was beside him, her sword dripping with silver blood. Several nÿgens lay dead at her feet, clearly disemboweled by her blade and not this tall man’s blue mist, though numerous ash piles indicated just how many he had burned from existence. Thran had emerged again, a shadow on the horizon.
