Chapter 35 #2
The weapon struck the prime kurghest’s left side, the blackrock head piercing deep. The beast stumbled aside with a pained growl only to spin toward Telok, swiping the air with claws as long as his fingers. It stepped over the unmoving Elharat with as much indifference as it afforded the ground.
Telok’s gaze met the beast’s.
Cold talons seized his chest, and everything else faded away—the din fell silent, the chaos went dark, and he no longer felt his wounds or the pelting rain.
There was only the prime kurghest’s eye. Orange and blazing with fury and lust for blood, it stared at Telok from across a two-decade chasm, stared at him from his nightmares, from his worst memory.
Only the darkness of a ruined socket existed where the kurghest’s right eye should’ve been, somehow holding even more hatred in its emptiness. And that socket was bisected by a single jagged scar, not left by claws or fangs but by a stab.
By a spear.
The beast charged at him, kicking up muck, its hot breath bursting from its snout in clouds. It seemed to be moving so slowly, but Telok was stuck in place. He could not move, could not breathe, could not think.
A world away, someone cried out his name.
As clear as the day it had happened, he saw his sire slaughtered, saw his mother on her back, using her dying strength to restrain this beast so Telok could escape, and he felt the old wounds on his neck and face, warm, stinging, and throbbing.
The prime kurghest was massive, unstoppable. And Telok was small, weak, and alone.
Mere segments away, the prime opened its fanged maw. Oblivion lay within its slavering jaws.
His mother’s voice, broken and raw, echoed from memory. Ven’dak losar agar.
Do not look back.
But ahead was only death, bristling with spines, teeth, and claws. Ahead was—
“Telok!”
Lacey.
Telok’s hearts lurched as Lacey appeared in his peripheral vision and lunged at the prime kurghest from its right, putting all her momentum behind her spear.
The weapon’s point struck the beast’s ruined eye.
Telok heard blackrock scrape bone. The kurghest’s head was driven aside, knocking the beast off its path.
Even as it skidded on the mud, its front leg lashed out, striking Lacey. The blow threw her off her feet. Telok thrust himself toward her, but the beast’s tail whipped around.
The sides of the bony spines at the tail’s end struck his head with all the force of a warclub wielded by a vrix twice Zurvashi’s size.
It was deafening, and stars flared across his suddenly darkened vision.
His body felt impossibly heavy, but his mind was light, ready to float away into the clouds.
That blackness was so warm, so soothing…
No!
Telok shook himself. The darkness receded, though spots danced through his vision. His head throbbed, and a high, piercing sound muted all others. He was staring at the ground, at blood and water rippling with the rain, having fallen onto the joints of his bent legs.
He lifted his gaze. Lacey lay on her back several segments away, propped on one elbow, with a hand clamped over her side and water-thinned blood welling between her fingers.
Flames roared to life in Telok’s core.
Lacey’s features were drawn, her eyes fearful but defiant. He followed her gaze with his own to the prime kurghest. Her spear lay in the mud at the beast’s feet.
The beast righted itself. Crimson oozed from its ruined eye socket. It growled as it turned toward Lacey, and the air trembled. Digging her heels into the mud, she slid herself backward, not looking away from the prime.
No!
With a growl of his own, Telok shoved himself onto his legs. Though his mate’s weapon had fallen, his spear remained stuck in the kurghest’s side. The beast loped at Lacey; Telok leapt at it.
It grunted as he hit its side. Spines pierced and dug painfully into his hide, but Telok latched on with claws and legs, clinging to the beast. The prime swung its head back, spinning in place as it snapped its jaws at him.
One of Telok’s hands closed around the shaft of his spear, and he wrenched on it.
A shudder coursed through the beast’s powerful body, and it groaned.
“For my mate,” Telok snarled, twisting the spear and pushing it deeper.
The prime kurghest bucked and thrashed. Telok held tighter, sinking his claws deeper into the beast’s hide, and kept twisting and rocking the spear, widening the wound and pushing the head further in.
When the spear suddenly dislodged, Telok clenched his jaw and stabbed the prime’s side with it again and again.
With each thrust, he saw those claws striking Lacey in his mind’s eye, saw her bleeding in the mud, saw the fear and pain in her eyes.
His rage burned hotter than the blazing sun, driving his hand ever faster.
Even the blood spattering his hide felt cold in comparison.
This beast had taken Telok’s family.
He would not let it take his mate.
The prime’s thrashing turned the Tangle into a blur around Telok.
Invisible forces pulled at him, making him use increasing effort to hold on, until finally the kurghest threw itself into a roll.
It landed atop Telok, its immense weight crushing him into the mud.
He felt the shaft of his spear snap, felt the breath burst from his lungs, felt the spines dig deeper even as his hold slipped.
Somehow, he clung to the broken spear, which tore free as the prime kurghest rolled off.
The beast struggled onto its feet.
“Telok!” Lacey called, her voice cutting through all the other noise.
Telok turned onto his side, braced two hands on the ground, and drew in a rasping, painful inhalation.
With heaving, wheezing breaths, the beast shook itself. Blood poured from its wounded side. Its eye fixated on Telok.
He threw his shield up just before the beast’s swinging foot would’ve hit his face. Wood splintered as wicked claws punched through it, and the strength behind the blow dragged Telok half a segment over the ground. Tingles like pinpricks radiated up and down his arm.
With its claws embedded in the shield, the kurghest shook its leg violently, jerking Telok back and forth. His shoulder screamed in protest; it felt like his arm was about to be torn off.
Straining every muscle in his body, Telok curled up and drew himself closer to his left arm—close enough to reach the shield strap with the blade of his spear.
He hooked the blackrock spearhead behind the strap and pulled back.
The woven silk cord broke, freeing Telok’s arm. He dropped to the ground.
Stumbling back a step, the beast stomped, struggling to dislodge the stuck shield.
It hurt my family. Hurt my friends.
Hurt my mate.
Another wave of fury blasted through Telok, searing away his pain. He planted his hands on the ground and shoved himself up. The instant his legs were beneath him, he jumped at the prime kurghest.
He came down upon its head, and his weight dragged it down as he wrapped his arms around its thick neck.
The beast again bucked and thrashed, swinging its front feet up and raking them down as though to scrape off its own snout.
The claws of one foot sliced into Telok’s back, but those of the other were blunted by the wood still stuck to them.
“For my sire!” Telok stabbed the spear into the side of the kurghest’s neck repeatedly, covering his hand in yet more blood.
Chuffing, the prime kurghest dipped its head even lower and shoved Telok off. He landed on his back, his wet, muddy hair slapping into his face. Before he could rise, the beast’s front feet slammed down on his shoulders, pinning him beneath overwhelming weight.
Blood spilled onto Telok’s face from the gaping wound in the beast’s neck, thicker and heavier than the rainfall. Red engulfed his vision.
Telok felt the kurghest’s hot breath as it lowered it muzzle and growled through its perpetually bared fangs.
He drove the spear into the kurghest’s leg, just above its ankle, and swept it outward as he tore it free, ripping through tendons.
The prime snatched its leg away and reared back with a deep, pained howl.
Okkor lunged from the side, a vengeful spirit emerging from the rain, and thrust his spear into the kurghest’s exposed chest with a bestial roar. His green hide was smeared with mud and blood.
The thornskull drove up with his powerful legs, keeping the kurghest upright as Telok scrambled back onto his legs. Winddancers rushed in from both sides, burying their spears in the beast’s underbelly.
Throwing its bulk aside, the kurghest spun on its hind legs, tearing spears from vrix hands.
Its front legs came down heavily, creating a tremor that vibrated up Telok’s legs, and it continued to turn, swinging its tail in a sweeping arc that forced Okkor and the others to retreat.
When it stopped, it was again facing Telok.
The beast’s sides swelled as it drew in a ragged breath. Its shoulders were hunched, its head low, but its orange eye burned with stubborn, spiteful vitality as it met Telok’s gaze.
Telok’s thumb shifted along the broken shaft of his spear to find the now dirty, sopping lock of braided hair still dangling from it.
“Please, Telok,” Lacey called again, desperate, pleading, fearful.
It hurt my mate. My Lacey. My love.
The prime kurghest roared with a fury that could’ve toppled trees, shattered mountains, and sent every living creature within an eightday’s journey fleeing in terror, a fury that could’ve chilled the Eight themselves.
Telok let out a roar of his own, matching the beast’s fury, but something more was woven through it—love.
Love that would shield no matter the cost. Love that would overcome any obstacle, any foe, any limitation.
Love that spanned all the stars in the night sky, love that connected alien hearts, that spun its own fate in defiance of everything.