Nym's Arc

Chapter 34 of 41

Four days on the road had worn them thin. They landed at dusk in a stand of pines and made camp. Nym tied the pegasus and the warwolf near the fire. The green cat curled in her lap. She fed the animals and rubbed the pegasus down. Its black wings twitched at every sound. Titus noticed it too. "He's been jumpy since noon," he said. "Something's following us." Drasila crouched at the tree line, rune marks dark on her hands. "A beast," she said. "It smells the pegasus and the warwolf. Fae blood and rare meat. It has trailed us since the broken bridge." She looked at Nym. "It will strike the mounts tonight. Without them we don't reach the mountain before Zarool heals." Nym's stomach dropped. She had learned to hold the white light through calm, not fear. Now her hands wanted to shake. She set the green cat on the ground and breathed. The cat pressed against her ankle. Its warmth steadied her. "Then we don't wait for it," she said. "We draw it in and end it." They moved fast. Titus led his warwolf and the pegasus behind a fallen log and tied them close. He crouched beside Nym. "Steady hands," he said. "Look at the cat, not the dark." His voice was low and sure. She had trusted him for weeks. She trusted him now. The brush cracked. A shape burst from the trees, low and gray, jaws wide, racing straight for the pegasus. The warwolf squealed. Nym stared at the cat's green eyes and let the calm rise. White light bloomed in her palms. But the beast was faster than her aim. It reached the pegasus. Its teeth tore the great horse's flank. The pegasus screamed and beat its wings, knocking the beast back into the firelight. "Now," Drasila said. She flung her rune magic. A light shot up and snared the beast's legs. It thrashed and held. "Light, and Nature Nym!" Nym threw the white light, and then had roots torn from the ground strike the beast . It struck the beast full in the chest. The creature stiffened, then came apart into nothing, unmade. The clearing went quiet. Only the fire crackled. Nym ran to the pegasus. Blood ran dark down its flank. Its wing dragged in the dirt. Drasila pressed her hands to the wound and slowed the bleeding, but her face was grim. "The wing is torn. It cannot fly. Not for days." Nym knelt in the dirt. The threat was gone. But so was their fastest way over the mountain. Two mounts remained, one now crippled, and three riders to carry. Titus looked at the ridge black against the stars. "We can't fly to the arch now," he said. " Nym stroked the wounded horse's neck. She had killed the hunter. She had bought their lives. But the road to Zeroth had just grown longer, and the enemy was healing faster than they could walk. She began to cry and think of her light and thought of the pegasus torn wing…