The City of Brass (The Daevabad Trilogy #1) - S. A. Chakraborty Page 0,65

forest. It was impossibly far. “We’ll never make it.”

Dara pulled off his turban, cap, and robe and tossed them to her. Puzzled, Nahri watched as he secured his sword to his waist. “Don’t be such a pessimist. I have an idea. Something I heard about in a story.” He nocked one of his gleaming silver arrows. “Just stay low and hold on to your horse. Don’t look back, and don’t stop. No matter what you see.” He pulled on her reins, jerked her horse in the right direction, and urged both animals into a trot.

She swallowed, her heart in her throat. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

Before she could protest, Dara smacked her horse’s rump hard. She could feel the heat of his hand from her saddle; the animal whinnied in protest and bolted toward the forest.

Nahri threw herself forward, one hand clutching the saddle and the other wrapped in the horse’s damp mane. It took every bit of self-control not to scream. Her body bounced wildly, and she tightened her legs, desperately hoping that she wouldn’t be thrown off. She caught a brief glimpse of the racing ground before squeezing her eyes shut.

A long cry pierced the air, so high-pitched it seemed to tear right through her. Unable to cover her ears, Nahri could only pray. Oh, Merciful One, she begged, please don’t let this thing eat me. She’d survived a body-possessing ifrit, ravenous ghouls, and a deranged daeva. This couldn’t end with her being gobbled up by an overgrown pigeon.

Nahri peeked up from the horse’s mane, but the forest didn’t look much closer. Her horse’s hooves beat against the ground, and she could hear it panting. And where was Dara?

The rukh screeched again, sounding furious. Worried about the daeva, she ignored his warning and glanced back.

“God preserve me.” The whispered prayer came unbidden to her lips at the sight of the rukh. She suddenly knew why she’d never heard of them.

No one survived to tell the tale.

Camel size was a terrible understatement; larger than Yaqub’s shop and with a wingspan that would have covered the length of her street in Cairo, the monstrous bird probably snacked on camels. It had ebony eyes the size of platters and glittering feathers the color of wet blood. Its long black beak ended in a sharply curved tip. It looked big enough to swallow her whole, and it was closing in. There was no way she’d make it to the forest.

Dara suddenly veered into view behind her. His boots jammed against the stirrups, he was damn near standing on the horse, turned around to face the rukh. He drew back his bow, unleashing an arrow that hit the beast just below its eye. The rukh jerked its head back and shrieked again. At least a dozen silver arrows pierced its body, but they didn’t slow it in the slightest. Dara shot it twice more in the face, and the rukh dove for him, its massive talons outstretched.

“Dara!” she screamed as the daeva made a sharp eastward turn. The rukh followed, apparently preferring a reckless daeva to a fleeing human.

There was little chance he could hear her over the rukh’s enraged shrieks, but she couldn’t help but shout, “You’re going the wrong way!” There was nothing east but flat plains—was he trying to get himself killed?

Dara shot the creature once more and then threw his bow and quiver away. He pulled himself into a squatting position on the horse’s saddle and cradled his sword to his chest with one arm.

The rukh cried out in triumph as it closed in on the daeva. It opened its talons wide.

“No!” Nahri screamed as the rukh snatched up the horse and Dara, as easily as a hawk might seize a mouse. It rose in the air while the horse screamed and kicked, and then veered back south.

She yanked hard on the reins to pull her racing horse around. It reared, trying to throw her off, but she held on, and it turned. “Yalla, go! Go!” she shouted, reverting to Arabic in panic. She kicked hard, and it bolted after the rukh.

The bird soared away with Dara clutched in its talons. It cried out again and then tossed both Dara and his horse high in the air. It opened its mouth wide.

It was only seconds, but the moment between seeing Dara thrown in the air and seeing him vanish seemed to last an eternity, twisting something deep in her chest. The rukh caught the horse again with one