Chapter 3
YUMA
The rain pounding against her hat brim thudded in her ears. The sky, even wider than the endless steppe, was covered in black clouds. There were still hours to go until the sun set, but the world had already entered a strange night.
“… can’t … this…”
Aidan, who had painstakingly made his horse climb up the hill to her, could scarcely be heard over the sound of the rain.
“What? Come closer, I can’t hear you!” Yuma shouted, gesturing at him to approach. With her other hand, she gripped Falco’s reins and a handful of his mane. Falco, whipped by raindrops, shifted with displeasure and restlessness. His black coat looked somehow blacker when soaked with rain.
Aidan’s horse took a few steps closer. Rivulets of rainwater poured off Aidan’s hat and his short gray mustache. The light hit just the right side of his face, which was permanently unmoving and had a blue tinge; the lighting made him look even more serious than usual.
“We can’t go farther like this. We need to signal the Grim King and pay his due!”
The clouds and rain were indeed a sign that the Ruler of the Merseh Steppe wanted his share. The rains would not cease until oroxen were given over to him.
Yuma bit her lip. Down the hill, their herd of oroxen surrounded the kitchen carriage, both herd and carriage protected for now by the song of the Host. Lightning flashed in the clouds ahead, dimly lighting up the ground below, making the oroxen uneasy.
They were a hundred times as massive as she was, but they were also as skittish as rabbits.
Once the Host exhausted himself and the thick strands of rain started hitting their backs, the oroxen would flee every which way.
Northward, thirty herders were striking camp, collapsing tents and putting away bedding. There was still plenty of grass in these parts for the oroxen to graze, and they could easily spend another moon here. As long as the Grim King didn’t interfere.
Aidan shouted, “Chief! You must send the signal of supplication! We have much ground to cover before we leave the Grim King’s backyard!”
Yuma brushed rainwater off her coat and firmly shook her head.
“We shall not!”
Not this year. The Grim King must learn that harming his people would mean harming himself. Aidan half opened his lips and murmured something but gave his horse a kick and descended back down the hill.
There was a strange movement on the edge of her vision.
Turning to her right, she saw that a patrolling horse had fallen on the rain-flattened grass.
Her horses were well-trained, but a younger one might have been spooked by this crushing weather.
Its cries would be enough to determine how seriously it was hurt, but it was impossible to hear anything over the rain.
She could hear Falco’s hooves splashing in water, though. There was not a river or stream in this region, only the tall grass that grew up to her waist, and yet the land was flooding. Did the Grim King not care about anything other than his tyranny? Would he not be troubled if they all drowned?
Yuma gave a long sigh as she realized that her hat only limited her sight and was not shielding her from the rain. She took it off, hooked it onto her saddle, and gave a kick into the sides of her horse. The rain pounded her scalp as Falco shot like an arrow through the falling curtains of water.
“Chief!” young Rizona shouted, the first to recognize her as she approached the group of herders.
“Rizona, whose horse was that? Is the rider hurt?”
“Jed, it’s Jed’s…”
But Rizona was not looking at the fallen horse. Her eyes were gazing above, as if following a bird.
Yuma realized the other herders were also looking not at her but at the sky. She followed their gazes, and there was indeed something up there darker than the dark sky. A great roar sounded like thunder through the rain.
Without hesitation, Yuma grabbed the crossbow that hung on the left of her saddle and aimed at the shadow above.
She pulled the lever on the bottom, hearing the bolts click into place.
Without blinking away the rainwater in her eyes, she pulled the trigger.
Almost at the same time, the shadow shrieked once more.
Something fell from the sky onto the fallen horse with a thump. A bloodied Jed. He gasped and moved slightly—still alive, but only just. Yuma pulled the lever and aimed again.
Just before she could shoot, someone shouted, “It’s coming!”
The black shadow swooped toward them at enormous speed. Before Yuma could even command her horse, Falco leaped out of the way, just dodging the giant thing that landed right where they’d been.
It was not a bird or a bat, though it resembled both.
As large as an orox, it was covered in scales.
The monster got up on its hind legs, spread its webbed wings, and roared.
A smell of rot enveloped them, a stench of death not even the rains could wash away.
From its snake-like, four-eyed head unfurled a blue tongue.
The herders reared backward on their horses. Jed, who had fallen from the sky, was barely breathing. Yuma fired her crossbow. The monster flinched, but it was impossible to tell if her weapon mattered at all. The Grim King’s dead servants knew nothing of pain or fatigue until they died again.
“What are you all doing? Draw your bows!”
But even as she said it, she realized the bowstrings and feather fletchings would be drenched and ineffective in this wet weather.
Merseh was normally arid, but now … Some of the herders heeded her call and raised their bows, while others drew their machetes instead.
But most of them were frozen in place, trembling on their mounts.
Yuma made Falco slowly back away as she loaded the crossbow again. Calmly aiming for the monster’s milky eyes on its darting snake-like head, she pulled the trigger and hit one of its eyes.
But the monster gave no indication of having been injured.
Instead, its remaining three eyes fixed on Yuma, and getting down on its winged front legs, it crawled toward her.
Fast. It was at a speed that Falco could not simply back away from—Yuma turned Falco’s head in the opposite direction and spurred him on as she turned and pulled the lever on her crossbow to load it.
Despite Falco’s speed, the slithery tongue of the monster was still close enough to touch.
She pulled the trigger and the fourth bolt hit it in the middle of its forehead.
But the Grim King’s monster did not stop.
Her heart fell to her stomach and the rain roared in her ears.
Letting out a hoarse wail, the monster reared up and threw itself upon Yuma and Falco.
Yuma jumped off the horse just in time, rolling on the ground and looking up to see the monster’s teeth biting into Falco’s neck.
Her crossbow landed a few steps away, and her machete was still at Falco’s side, attached to the saddle.
The monster whipped its head and blood spurted from Falco like a fountain, the horse’s legs jerking pitifully.
Falco and Yuma met eyes as lightning brightened the sky.
She had been with him since he was born, fed him herself when his mother died soon after giving birth.
The monster, as if admiring its handiwork, stared down at the dying horse. Falco ceased all movement.
The thick veil of rain obscured the other herders from her view, but it was clear enough that no one was coming to help her.
The monster turned from the horse to Yuma.
Its lolling blue tongue was now lying, still thrashing, at its feet—this monster had bitten off its own tongue in its frenzy to maul Falco.
Meeting its eyes, Yuma slowly got to her feet.
She had no weapons, not even her hat, which was still hanging from Falco’s saddle alongside her machete.
She swept back the stray hairs that fell over her eyes and quickly tied up her braid into a firm bun.
The monster tilted its head once before approaching her slowly.
There was nowhere to hide on this field, and no human on their own two legs could outrun this monster.
Yuma carefully found a hard piece of earth to stand on in the pooling rain and straightened her back to her full height.
The enemy might be the size of an orox, but Yuma had learned how to handle oroxen from a young age. If she could get on this monster’s back and grab its neck, she might have a chance of bringing it to heel.
The monster walked to her, its claws scraping the ground.
That stench again. She glimpsed the root of its severed tongue in its mouth, black blood oozing from the wound and dripping off its chin.
Yuma ignored this horrifying sight and instead concentrated on the monster’s mouth and neck.
The monster’s stride grew faster. It was like a wolf that had been cautious at first but couldn’t resist the smell of meat any longer.
The monster’s teeth-filled maw came at her like an arrow.
Yuma swerved to the right and grabbed the monster’s neck using her left arm like a snare.
Without a second thought, she jumped and mounted the shoulders of the monster.
The monster almost stumbled when her full weight landed on it, and its scream slammed against her eardrums.
The Grim King’s monster reared its head to try to shake her loose, but instead lost its balance and fell to the side.
Yuma’s right hand hit the ground in an effort to break her fall, but the weight of the monster made it pointless.
Mud splattered everywhere. She almost lost consciousness, not to mention her hold on the monster’s neck, as pain ripped through her whole body.
The monster’s claws tried to reach her, but only the vestigial ones on the edge of its wings scratched a little at her cheek and tough leather clothes. She added her right arm around its neck and squeezed with all her might.