“Nillima, kassim,” the Vorakkar ordered, jerking his head towards me. The pyroki, even with her terrible injury, followed her master’s order and sprinted towards me, vibrating the forest floor.
I had somehow scrambled to the trunk of the nearest tree, had pressed my back to it, and the pyroki stopped before me, pounding the ground with her claws. Protecting me? Her eyes were wild with pain, flickering from side to side.
Another jrikkia flung itself from the darkness and I watched as the pyroki reared back, going onto two legs, and smashed her front talons into the body of the creature.
It fell with a shrill cry and the horde king’s sword followed, cleanly slicing its head from its body.
Then came two more, jumping from the darkness and the shadows of the trees, one in front of the horde king and one at his back. They circled, prowling on all fours, their long necks and even longer snouts perfectly still.
“Watch out!” I cried when the one at his back sprung first.
Right when he spun, the one at his front attacked as well. So fast it was a blur, he cut a line across one of the jrikkia’s abdomen, spilling blood and making it stumble. But the other crashed into him, snarling, taking him down to the ground with a heavy thud.
I heard the horde king’s roar and then the jrikkia’s head snapped to the side. It dropped, heavy and still. The horde king had broken its neck with a sharp twist. Then I watched as he lunged for the last remaining injured creature and drove his sword deep.
My heart felt like it was in my throat. The Vorakkar had moved so swiftly. His expression was grim, focused, as his gaze scanned the shadows, looking for more jrikkia.
Only after a long moment did he look at the carnage across the forest floor. Four dead jrikkia, their black blood spilled, sickeningly shiny in the low light. Was this why the Ghertun avoided the Dead Forest? Because of these creatures? I had never seen anything like them before.
Then his gaze came to me, red and otherworldly and infinitely terrifying. His words returned to me. That he’d been made to kill. The dead creatures around him, the memory of his speed, his unflinching certainty as he dispatched every last one of them…now I knew he’d spoken the truth.
He wiped his sword on the fur of one of the fallen beasts before sheathing it. His pyroki was still hovering in front of me, her breathing labored. She was in pain.
The horde king went to her, stroking her snout, murmuring soft words to her in Dakkari that I didn’t understand. Then he came around her side, looking at the injury, his jaw tight. He plucked the dismembered jrikkia claws from her, dropping them to the ground without a second glance, leaving five deep gashes in their wake.
I finally found my voice. It shook as I asked, “W-will she be all right?”
His voice was guttural, husky as he said, “Lysi.”
His chest was streaked in blood. “Are—are you all right?”
The question made him turn. His eyes seemed brighter after the attack. As if the battle had invigorated him, but I knew that couldn’t be right. It would be a horrible realization if he’d enjoyed that.
“I would like to believe that Kakkari would not end me with a mere pack of jrikkia, leikavi.”
It was chilling to think that just a moment before, we’d been speaking of death.
“They would’ve ended me,” I said quietly, wrapping my arms tight around my torso, shivering, “had you not been here.”
He didn’t say anything to that.
Instead, he broke my gaze to look over his shoulder, at the dead creatures scattered across the floor.
“We will rest here for the night,” he decided.
“Here?” I asked, my voice going higher. I peered around the tree trunk I was still pressed to. I could still see the plains through the trees. Open space, golden sunlight. “Even after this?”
“We will not find better protection than spilled jrikkia blood,” he informed me, “though I would be surprised if there was another pack here.”
I frowned. “You mean, they don’t live in the Dead Forest?”
“The Dead Forest?” he repeated, raising a brow. He huffed out a sharp exhale. “Nik, they live east. Yet, they seem to come further and further west every year.”
“They do not look like any beasts I’ve seen on Dakkar before,” I commented softly, slowly peeling myself away from the trunk.