Chapter 10
When they finally settled for sleep, Kasik’s dreams were filled with monsters with eyes darker than night, in a forest whose
shadows unhinged like a jaw to reveal teeth as big as trees. Kasik screamed silently and clutched the stone around his neck.
It burned his palm in warning, trying to tell him something that was just beyond his reach, right on the fringes of his mind, if only he could—
Kasik’s eyes flew open. In his hand and no longer around his neck was his mamay’s achilla. Quickly, he untangled it from his
fingers and tied it back in place. It was warm against his chest, right over where his heart pounded erratically.
The ominous dark of the Tuta Kulla pressed in on all sides, and the center of their small clearing glowed eerily from the
dying embers of Nina’s fire. Kasik meant to keep watch, but he had fallen asleep.
The tendrils of his dream sifted through his memory, and then he pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to clear away the haze
that the restless sleep had left behind.
Something felt wrong.
The hilt of his blade was pressed against his side. Capac lounged to his right, his chest rising and falling evenly in sleep.
He turned to his left, but the space he had watched Nina lie down in was empty.
Heart in his throat, he shot to his feet and scoured the campsite for signs of her. She wouldn’t be able to go far, not in
the dense forest without the moon or stars to guide her.
Calm down, he told himself. She had probably walked away to relieve herself. Everything was fine.
But deep in his belly was a foreboding that he could not shake. He reached over Capac and grabbed his bow and arrows from the pack, quietly slid them onto his back, and gave Capac the command to stay. The achipuma growled low in his throat but sank onto his belly.
In the near distance, a twig snapped. Kasik froze. Waited for one heartbeat, two, and then he took off through the trees,
brushing aside massive leaves and low-hanging branches, ducking deep and jumping high to avoid tripping over gnarled roots
and downed trees.
It felt as though the hands of the forest were sinking into him, slowing him down.
A rustle deep within the brush pulled Kasik to a stop. As he listened, he held his breath, the trees watching and waiting
and leaning in. Three heartbeats passed, and then he took off to the right, the shadows a blur as he raced by, glowing eyes
staring down from the cover of leaves. He passed them by without sparing a second glance. Nina’s name was on the tip of his
tongue, but he was afraid to call for her lest something else respond.
Afraid that she was trying to escape, and he would give his position away.
It wouldn’t surprise him. She had made it very clear that she wanted nothing to do with the emperor’s plan for her, but he
didn’t think her foolish enough to slip away in the middle of the night with nothing except the clothes on her back. She would
die before she made it far, and he’d have to tell the emperor that he had failed, that he had lost her to the grasp of the
Tuta Kulla.
No, it wasn’t an option. He would search every shadow, turn over every leaf, until he found—
Kasik skidded to a stop, chest heaving. At some point, his blade had made its way to his hand, and it shook as he beheld what
kneeled before him.
Nina’s back was to him. She was on her knees, but her head was tilted toward the sky, and all he could see was the way her hair swept almost to the floor.
“Nina?” he called carefully. Breath held, he waited for her to acknowledge him, for her head to turn and see that she had
been caught, but she was deathly still, unmoving like the darkness itself.
Finally, his eyes followed the path of hers, and a knot of dread lodged itself in his throat.
Perched on the trees high above, razor-sharp beak glistening in a patch of moonlight, was a beast he had only ever seen on
the murals that covered the kancha walls. Its talons curled over the branch it held on to, gouging the soft wood with ease.
He knew that if it stretched its wings, it could envelop her whole. It could snatch her from the ground and take off into
the sky where he couldn’t follow.
“Nina, please,” he pleaded in a low voice.
Ever so slowly, he melted into a crouch, blade held tight in one hand and the other extended toward Nina. If he could just
brush her shoulder, she would snap out of the trance she was in.
For all the dense and dark corners of the forest, there was nowhere near enough to take cover. His only option was to give
himself enough time to kill the beast, but Nina was just out of reach, and he couldn’t risk it attacking her first. He shifted
forward and it moved its bulbous eyes to him. It was exactly what Kasik needed. Fueled by terror, he launched himself at Nina.
Their bodies collided and the momentum sent them rolling into a fallen tree. Kasik felt the rush of wind from the beast’s
wings skim over his head and heard a gasp from Nina as they came to a stop. He’d let go of his blade so he didn’t accidentally
stab them, but now he was weaponless and the bird was circling above, a predator with its prey in sight.
It let out an ear-piercing cry that sent chills down Kasik’s back.
It was alerting the others to food. Kasik scrambled to his feet and pulled Nina up with him.
Her nostrils flared with every breath and her eyes were wide with panic.
The last thing he wanted to do was separate from her, but he knew it was the only way to hopefully save her.
They didn’t stand a chance against a monster in the throes of hunger.
“Nina, listen to me.” He placed his mouth against her ear and held her face firmly in hand. “When I say go, you’re going to
run to the left, and I’m going to go right. Do not stop running, no matter what you hear. Find cover only if you must. I’ll
come for you, all right?”
He pulled back to stare into her wild eyes. Her hands came up and covered his. Kasik felt the tremble but also the resolve.
This was not the way she would die. “Ready?” he whispered. Beneath his hands, she nodded.
Above them, the bird circled once more and then dove.
Kasik muttered a prayer to Ekeko, god of fortune, and then he yelled, “Go!”