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The forest of Oz is vast, and I have no idea where I’m going or in which direction. Tin said north, but without a sun or stars, I have no way to know which direction that is.

Another arrow sails past me and sinks itself into a nearby tree with a loud thunk.

“We need cover,” Tin says.

“Any ideas?” I shout over my shoulder.

To our left, a loud thundering approaches.

It sounds like a herd of elephants.

“What is that?”

“Fuck,” Tin says and gives me another shove forward as if my legs are suddenly going to grow longer. My lungs are already tight, my legs cramping up. I wish I had spent more time running back on the Kansas farm instead of doing the backbreaking work of harvesting and weeding.

A loud roar echoes through the forest and fear spikes through my veins.

That can’t be a good sign.

I chance a glance to my left and see several large shapes racing toward us.

“They’re kalidahs,” Tin shouts. “Get on the other side of me.”

He slows his pace enough for me to cut in front of him.

That’s the second time I’ve heard him use that word. The first time was when he told me he nearly lost an arm fighting them. “What are kalidahs?”

“The worst of the forest beasts.”

Another snarl rends the forest and suddenly they’re on us, massive beasts with the head of a tiger and the body of a bear.

And there are people riding in saddles strapped to their backs.

Several more arrows sail past as a kalidah barrels into Tin, tossing him back into a tree.

Instinct has me pulling out the dagger strapped to my forearm, but up against beasts like this, I think it might be useless.

A second kalidah circles me, its rider holding tight to the reins. The beast stalks, its body corded in muscle. Long, razor-sharp claws gouge at the earth.

Tin rights himself and unsheathes his axe just as another arrow sails from the darkness, sinking itself into his metal arm.

Clearly, this is a coordinated attack, and I’m not sure how we fight beasts and hidden archers at the same time without finding better cover.

We’re cornered and it feels like all hope is lost.

And then … faintly overheard, the sound of beating wings.

Several flying monkeys swoop down, but they aren’t attacking us, they’re defending us.

One monkey swipes at the kalidah stalking me, tearing through the flesh at its snout.

Tin swings his axe, catching one of the kalidahs in the rear flank as it barrels past him. The beast roars, and the sound echoes like a thunderclap through the dark forest.

I dodge away as a smaller kalidah bats at me.

The fear of being torn apart tastes like bile in the back of my throat. I survived a stab wound, but will I survive being shredded by a bear-tiger monster?

More arrows rain down on us. Several of the monkeys fly away and, in the distance, we hear screaming. The arrows lessen.