Forged (Star Breed #10) - Elin Wyn Page 0,44

thrashing, he struggled to get back to his feet.

“You’re going to tear the sealant,” I scolded, “then where will you be?”

“Yasmin,” Hakon said softly. “Come over here, please.”

“But he’s going to—”

I cut off sharply as I saw Hakon’s face.

Carefully still, looking at something behind me.

“What is it?” I said, half whispering, too scared to look.

“I suspect it’s Bobo’s mother,” he answered. “And I would really appreciate it if you would slowly, without any sudden movements, come stand behind me.”

A trickle of ice ran down my back.

For the first time, since we’d met, he actually sounded scared.

I wasn’t entirely certain I wanted to know what could scare him.

Bobo’s trills grew in intensity with every step as I made my way back to Hakon, but despite feeling as if a squad of snipers had focused on my back, I refused the urge to turn, to look and see what had gotten the creature so excited.

Hakon reached an arm out for me, wrapping it around my waist and gently lifting me the last few inches until I was snugly tucked into his side.

Then I looked.

All of the air rushed out of me in one big whoosh.

Bobo was big.

Probably as tall as Hakon, and twice as long.

Mama, if it was the mama, was twenty times the size.

Everything that had made Bobo cute, big black eyes, oversized head, little bumpy baby horns, was terrifying when it was twenty times larger.

The giant purple head swooped down, almost as big as Bobo’s entire body.

Three horns curved out of the skull, ending in menacing points.

With a huff that I could feel from yards away, the mother sniffed over Bobo, nuzzling at his neck.

Bobo trilled at the giant, who only rumbled in response.

Finally, apparently satisfied, the beast picked up Bobo in her mouth, turned away, and passed out of our vision around the crest of the mountain.

I sat down quickly, my legs no longer able to hold my weight, even half leaning against Hakon.

He shook his head slowly, watching where they’d gone.

“I was not ready to fight that thing,” he finally said. He glanced down at me. “Are you going to be alright without your new buddy?”

“Of course,” I insisted, even though part of me had been half wondering if there was a way to coax Bobo into the ship. A small part, but it was still there. “He’s with his mother and is safe. That’s all that matters.”

Slowly getting to my feet, I took my first look at the creature Hakon had killed.

Even knowing it was well and truly dead, it gave me the shivers.

“Like some sort of a cross between a dinosaur and a sabretooth tiger,” I muttered.

“That’s what it was,” Hakon said coming up behind me. “Something about the teeth looked familiar. When we get home, don’t tell Doc that I blanked out on that, would you? She’ll have me reviewing vids for weeks.”

He knelt down next to the carcass. “Does that scar on its side look like blaster scorch to you?”

I looked where he pointed, reluctant to touch the thing myself.

“It could be,” I admitted. “But where would it have… Naval and Hill.”

Hakon nodded grimly. “I think we’ve found what happened to our missing crew.”

“I suspect you’re right.” I thought about the men who had recorded those logs. There hadn’t been enough in their terse reports for me to get a feeling for who they’d been. No personal mementos on the ship to give me an idea of the families they’d left behind.

But surely, there was someone. Somewhere.

Still waiting.

Hakon laced his fingers with mine. “Do you want to be sure? We can check.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your Bobo might’ve been cute, but he stank.” Hakon grimaced and pointed at the dead thing at his feet. “This one is worse. It wouldn’t take too much to track it back to its lair.”

I looked at the ship, thought about the list of tasks still to be done before we could safely attempt to take off.

And thought about how horrible it would’ve been if, ten years ago, my father had just disappeared.

Worse than what my brother and I had found when we raced home.

At least we’d had answers.

“If we can,” I nodded decisively. “I’d like that.”

I couldn’t see the tracks, certainly couldn’t smell anything, but Hakon moved through the brush without hesitation.

After about an hour, we reached an opening in a rocky hillside. “No one’s home,” Hakon said, sniffing the air again. “It’s rank enough from years of use, but I’d smell something if it was currently occupied. Should