pace sped dramatically, spooked by something unseen.
“Vok,” Kiran rasped, pulling on the golden chains of his pyroki’s reins. “Roon, livri!”
If anything, Roon ignored his master’s command because the pyroki sped even faster. Behind us, I could hear the darukkars pick up their own pace to match ours, keeping close to their Vorakkar.
Another tremor rocked the earth, more violent than the last. That trembling had been unmistakable. It was something I’d never felt before…like Kakkari was rumbling awake.
My heart sped and I uttered, “What is that?”
Kiran didn’t answer me, and I sensed that he was surveying the land before us. I didn’t know what he was looking for, however—most of the land was covered in runiri stalks anyways.
He turned in his seat, looking behind him, as I shifted my gaze from side to side. We were in an open field. There was no forest close by for a polkunu to surprise us from. There was nothing—
My eyes widened when I saw a massive, dark, deep hole in the ground before us, the tall grass simply gone from it in an almost perfect circle…and we were racing right towards it.
Acting on instinct, I jerked Roon’s left rein hard, shifting it from Kiran’s hand, and the pyroki pivoted, letting out a displeased, loud chuff as he did.
If not for Kiran’s strong thighs keeping me in place, I might’ve fallen off Roon’s back entirely. Behind me, I heard the Vorakkar’s curse, heard the darukkars’ yells of alarm when they saw the giant hole in the ground.
The ground trembled again. The pyrokis let out keening wails and to my disbelief, a giant beast, long and sand-colored and slithering, burst from the hole. An ear-ringing shrill cry, one that made me wince and cover my ears, filled the field.
“Hold, darukkars!” Kiran ordered, his voice muffled and dulled. “Stand down!”
The beast was massive, whatever it was. It could crush us all with its weight. Its worm-like body was ridged, the flesh thick and wiggly as it pushed itself from its dark den in the earth. I didn’t see any limbs but it reared up. The fading sunlight bounced off its body but it blocked out the entirety of the sunset as the darukkars urged their pyrokis away.
But we weren’t quick enough. Roon, in the confusion, backtracked the way we’d come before Kiran was able to correct him. A long claw began to uncurl from the beast’s belly, dagger-like and sharp and glittering black. We were too close. That sharp, ear-splitting scream seemed to become louder and louder.
“Kiran,” I breathed, my eyes wide, my heartbeat thundering in my throat.
Kiran’s dark gaze met mine, grim realization etched in his features as I saw the flash of the black claw extending towards us, as the beast thrust itself in our direction, wailing in the wind.
At the last moment, Kiran managed to get hold of Roon’s reins and turn the pyroki—so Kiran’s back was to the beast.
“Nik!” I cried, realization going through me. Kiran managed to spur Roon into a run but I heard the squelch of the claw as it made contact with the Vorakkar’s back.
I felt his body jerk against me. I heard his grunt, his raspy curse.
With a wild look behind me, I saw the claw retract, black with Kiran’s blood.
“Draki,” Kiran growled to Roon, his voice thick and husky, teeth gritted in pain.
As Roon sped at his master’s command, I saw the slithering beast begin to give chase behind us.
Chapter Fourteen
“It stopped,” I breathed. “It finally stopped.”
Kiran was rigid behind me. I was turned in my seat, craning my neck to look past his bulky form, tracking the worm-like beast across the grassy field. It had stopped and began to slither back the way it’d come, its wailing, keening, high-pitched cry continuing to carry across the wind.
When my gaze met his, I knew he was in pain. His eyes were hard, his mouth pressed into a firm line. He’d broken a bone once during training. I remembered sitting with him in the mokkira’s soliki as the elder male set it. I remembered that Kiran hadn’t made a sound though his bone was protruding from his flesh. But his eyes had been cold and he’d been clenching his jaw so tightly I was surprised the bone didn’t disintegrate.
He still wore the long scar on his forearm, just one of his many scars.
“We need to stop so I can look at the wound,” I murmured, spying black blood dripping over Roon’s side.
“Another few moments,” he said tightly. “We need