Aduun tore his claws free and leapt away just before the worm’s bulk slammed down with a tremendous crack. Huge chunks of ice jutted upward around it like the ribs of a decaying beast.
Balir remained atop the worm, his pale skin splattered with crimson gore, clawing and biting, ripping and tearing. The worm rocked its bulk as though to separate the ice.
Aduun raced forward and jumped onto the creature beside Balir. So long as it was alive, it was a threat. It had to be destroyed. It had to pay for hurting Nina. He roared and sunk his claws into the worm’s hide, shredding its skin. He ripped chunks of meat up with his teeth and shook his head, casting the pieces down to the frigid water. All the while, the creature squirmed with increasing desperation, batting aside the broken pieces of ice.
The worm’s tail end broke through, dipping into the water. Aduun twisted to see its tentacles grab at the ice, dragging it backward into the hole.
Can’t protect her if I’m gone, if we’re gone, can’t leave her alone. She needs us. We need her.
He cast aside his frenzied thoughts and pressed his quills flat. If he and Balir were pulled under with the worm, the battle would quickly turn, and they weren’t likely to come back up again. Kelsharn had made them all tough enough to make a natural rockfur look fragile when he’d changed them, but they were not invulnerable.
Balir hadn’t lifted his head. He continued his ferocious attack, clawing a hole in the creature’s hide large enough for Nina to fit into. The scent of blood stung Aduun’s nose, threatening to draw him back into the fullness of his rage.
Aduun charged forward and pounced on Balir. His momentum and weight were enough to knock the shrieker off the worm’s back. They tumbled together over ice and into snow, Balir’s wild, thrashing claws biting into Aduun’s hide in numerous places before they finally separated and slid to a halt.
Balir scrambled onto his feet, turned toward Aduun, and opened his mouth, releasing an ear-splitting shriek, the red spots on his throat flaring bright.
Aduun roared into Balir’s face, not backing away, and swung his head toward the shoreline.
Nina. Remember Nina.
Balir’s chest heaved. He shook his head sharply and turned, producing a series of clicks that were nearly lost to Aduun beneath the sound of groaning, cracking ice. Of all three valos, Balir had always demonstrated the most control over his beast, but once it was unleashed, once he gave in to its blood frenzy…
It was the most savage and relentless of all.
Aduun bared his teeth, neck muscles straining, and forced his beast aside to return his body to its man shape. His bones popped and cracked as they altered to suit his new form, spine shortening while his arms and legs lengthened. He fell on hands and knees while the agony of the change rippled through him and his form solidified.
He lifted his head to find Balir’s attention on him. Blood dripped from the shrieker’s jaws, combining with the crimson on his hook-clawed feet to stain the snow beneath him.
“Nina needs us, Balir,” Aduun rasped, getting to his feet. “She needs you.”
Balir lunged forward, producing another piercing shriek, but skidded to a sudden stop. He backed away, shaking his head again, and finally collapsed to writhe in the snow as his body changed.
Once Balir was in his man shape, Aduun took hold of his upper arm and helped him to stand. Balir’s breath was thick and heavy, each breath nearly a growl, but he matched Aduun’s speed as they ran toward Nina and Vortok.
The rockfur valo had returned to his man shape as well. He held Nina’s limp form in his arms.
She was alive. Aduun knew it deep inside, knew it through the bond they shared, but she was once again weak, once again in danger. There were many creatures on Sonhadra that could kill a person with a mere drop of venom; was this one of them? Was she just lingering, holding on to a life that was no longer hers?
No. We cannot lose her. I will not allow her to die.
Vortok took a single step forward, pausing mid-stride. He wobbled unsteadily. Snorting, he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his mane. “Venom is sapping my strength,” he muttered.
Aduun strode up to Vortok and swept Nina from his arms.
Opening his eyes, Vortok bared his teeth and leaned forward. “What are you doing?”
“Protecting our mate,” Aduun said, holding her against his chest. If she’d been jostled, if she felt anything, she made no indication of it.
“You mean to say that I have not?” Vortok demanded. He clenched his fists at his sides, muscles bulging, but his resolve faltered when he swayed again.
“No, Vortok.” Aduun forced his tone to ease despite the worry and panic welling inside him. Nina didn’t want them to fight, and it wouldn’t accomplish anything, especially not now. “You’ve carried her a long way already, and you are injured. There is no shame in allowing me to carry her awhile.”
Vortok grunted and lifted a hand to his head, squeezing his temples between a finger and thumb. “Yes. You’re right, Aduun.”
Balir approached, snow crunching lightly beneath his feet. He had both Nina’s bag and the bag of supplies they’d gathered at the shelter slung over his shoulders, and the snow-crusted fur cloak draped over his arms. “We need to find shelter.”
“We need to help Nina,” Aduun said, glancing down at her. She was limp and unresponsive, her weight feeling more like that of a fresh kill than a living being.
Why wasn’t she moving?
“Remaining here will not help her.” Balir’s voice was strained. The red spots on his neck pulsed. “If we linger too long, either the storm will return or the worm, and we are in no condition to face either.”
Aduun clenched his jaw, biting down on his helplessness. He needed to do something for her now, needed to wake her up now; he couldn’t just blindly march forward and hope she’d be okay.
“She was guiding us, Aduun. You and Vortok saw where she pointed. Lead us in that direction.”
“She was leading us to the mountains, over there.” Vortok turned and raised a trembling hand to indicate the dark gray rocks rising out of the snow directly ahead. They were close, now; a little farther, and she would’ve made it unharmed. A little faster, and she’d be okay now.
“And when we get there? She cannot climb in this state,” Aduun said.
“But there is a stronger chance we will find shelter there,” Balir replied firmly. “And once we do, we can better tend to her.”
Aduun’s chest and throat constricted. “She needs tending now.”
Balir turned to him and stepped forward, his features tight. “If we are caught out here, she will die.”
“Do not say such things,” Aduun snarled, clutching Nina tighter.
“Now you will hold it against me for speaking the hard truth?” Balir demanded, baring his sharp teeth. Blood was smeared over his face, on his hands, his chest. “Her heart is so weak I can barely hear it, Aduun! Do you think I am not aware of the situation? Do you think I am not falling to pieces? She is close to death, and I can still smell blood on all of us, still crave it, when all I should be thinking of is her. Nina will die out here if we don’t move forward, find as secure a place as we can, and tend to her.”
Shame and frustration heated Aduun’s skin. He pressed his lips tight. Nina did not need three raging beasts right now; she needed three men, clear of thought, who would do what it took to keep her safe, to nurse her back to health.
“She removed the spine quickly, and I sucked out as much venom as I could,” Vortok said. “She is strong. She will fight it.”
Aduun dropped his gaze to her again and nodded. Without another word, he walked toward the mountainside.
Chapter Thirteen
Balir walked in front of the others as they moved along the cliff face. Fortunately, he was upwind of them, which meant he only had to smell the faint blood scent clinging to his own body after he’d scrubbed his skin with handfuls of snow. He bent his willpower toward focusing on sound — the way it bounced
off the nearby stone, the way it echoed across the valley, the way the snow seemed to dampen it. Letting his thoughts wander beyond that would be dangerous.
His beast wanted blood. Its hunger had been awakened by the fight with the worm, and he knew no amount of food would sate its appetite. It wanted to kill, to feast, to gorge itself without restriction. Only time and immense effort toward obtaining calm would silence its ravenous calls, and the latter wasn’t likely to occur while he was worried for Nina’s wellbeing.
The soft crunch of snow beneath his feet filled the time between his heart beats, which remained discouragingly long. This was too close to how she’d been when they were first trapped in the snowstorm — but at least she’d been responsive then.
He turned his head slightly and slowed his steps; there was a change in the sound reflection from up ahead, more significant than the small recesses that ran through the entire cliffside. He walked toward the source of the change, moving a little farther from the stone to allow himself a better angle to hear.
The echo was a familiar one; he’d heard it for a thousand years of captivity. Sound took on a certain quality when it bounced between walls of rock.
Balir stopped at the mouth of the cave and listened as his clicks moved along its length, mingling with the hollow, breathy sound of air flowing inside. That brush of moving air on his face spoke of an opening elsewhere, beyond his perception.
The cave was deep, if nothing else, and would provide some protection from the intensifying cold once night fell.
He waved the others over, standing aside to allow them full view of the opening.
“It’s dark,” Vortok grumbled.
“How deep?” Aduun asked.
Balir’s sound-sight reproduced Nina’s limp form in Aduun’s arms. He clenched his jaw and inhaled, drawing in the scent of damp rock from within the cave. “Too deep for me to tell. There’s another opening somewhere inside, but I do not know how large or how far in.”
Aduun shifted his weight onto one leg, tail flicking side to side slowly. “We will be in complete darkness.”
“That is no change for me,” Balir replied.
“But how can we care for her if we cannot see?” Vortok asked.
“We have fuel,” Aduun said. “It won’t last long, but we can make a small fire for light and a bit of warmth.”
The air — thin and chilled a moment before — thickened with the tension of unasked questions.
Would Nina survive?
How long would she need to recover?
Was this cave the way she’d meant for them to come?
Did something worse than they’d already faced lurk in the darkness ahead?
Balir wrenched his thoughts away from those questions and stretched his tail back, wrapping its end around Aduun’s arm beneath Nina’s torso. Touching her, even if it was through the furs, provided a shred of comfort. “Come.”
He directed his attention forward and led his companions into the cave. Aduun’s steps were soft, barely audible even to Balir’s sensitive hearing, but Vortok’s footfalls were heavy, punctuated from time to time by his grunts as his large frame undoubtedly bumped the walls around him.
No one spoke. The relative silence only made Balir more aware of the stone surrounding him — natural stone that had undoubtedly been shaped by Kelsharn’s unnatural means to suit his cruel, vindictive purposes. It was a powerful reminder that they’d never made it to the surface after being released from their cages, no matter how convincing so much of this underworld seemed.
Balir brought them to a stop when the cave expanded enough to afford them some space. He swung the bags off his shoulders and found Nina’s blanket after a bit of rummaging. Once it was spread on the cave floor, he guided Aduun to lay Nina down atop it.
Setting the fire by feel was nothing new to him, but lighting it took their combined effort and threatened to thrust all three valos into a rage; the fuel had become damp during the journey and resisted taking flame for a long while, even with the aid of Nina’s powerful little fire starter.
It was only Nina that kept Balir and the others from succumbing to their frustrations. She needed the fire for its warmth, and Aduun and Vortok needed it so they could fully inspect her condition. Aduun had reported only one wound on the back of her shoulder, but they hadn’t been able to check much beyond that; they’d dared not remove her fur coverings while they were out in the frigid air.
Part of Balir welcomed his anger. If he gave in, didn’t it have a chance of waking her? Their emotions had been strong enough to rouse her from sleep on several occasions; what if that was all she needed now?
The small fire warmed the cool cave air, which itself had been a large improvement from the icy chill outside.
“Her furs are damp,” Vortok said.
Balir assisted him in removing her garments. When they peeled the hide and fur away from her shoulder, the smell of her blood struck Balir anew, and his beast stirred. He shared in its confusion, though it could not feel his shame — the beast knew her as its mate, but her blood sparked its hunger all the same. It wanted to feed; it wanted to mate.
Aduun crouched beside them as Vortok gently lifted Nina to turn her wound toward the light.
“It is no longer bleeding,” Vortok said. “That is something.”
“But it will start again if she moves too much,” said Aduun. “Is there moonweed left?”
Balir opened Nina’s bag and slipped a hand inside. There were a variety of scents from within, including the moonweed’s, but its smell was potent enough that it tended to linger after the plant was gone. At the bottom of the bag, he found something long bundled in a piece of cloth. He withdrew the cloth and unwrapped it.
The moonweed’s odor struck him immediately, pungent and powerful, familiar from his old life. He plucked out a stalk. It was dry; a few more days, and it would be too brittle to use. Extending an arm, he held it to Aduun.
They lapsed into silence again as Aduun chewed the moonweed and used it to seal Nina’s wound. The beating of her heart remained slow but steady, marking the passage of time with a sense of weight and urgency that made Balir’s skin crawl.
Finally, Aduun and Vortok settled her back down onto the blanket.
“We must lie with her,” Aduun said. “Keep her warm at least until her coverings are dry.”
With a soft grunt, Vortok obeyed. He lay behind Nina while Aduun lay facing her front. Jealousy flared in Balir’s gut. He wanted to be the one to touch her — the only one — to tuck her body against his, to wrap his arms around her and know the feel of her soft skin.
He also wanted to have his sight back, if only to look upon her whenever he wished, but that wasn’t to be, either. For this, Vortok and Aduun were better suited. They were larger, Vortok big enough to enfold her almost completely against himself, and, because of their fur, produced more heat.
Besides, the scent of blood was fresh in Balir’s nose. Though he would never harm Nina, he couldn’t trust himself to contain his beast. Not yet. Her blood on its own was not enough to send him over the edge, but after the frenzy he’d entered to battle the worm…
All he needed was time. Time to calm the beast. Time to purge himself of his bloodlust.
He seated himself on the opposite side of the fire from the others.
There was a whisper of movement from the others. “Join us, Balir,” Aduun said. “Lend her your heat.”
“The two of you provide more than enough,” Balir replied.
“Your beast?” Aduun asked, a knowing tone in his voice.
Balir dipped his head and let out a shaky breath. Admitting it wouldn’t help, but he knew he didn’t need to say anything more.
“For her, we must all do our best to maintain control,” Aduun said, “and you have done that since the beginning. We have this shelter because of you, Balir. She has a chance to recover because of you.”
“Control…” Balir chuckled and closed his eyes as though it would somehow offer hi
m clarity. “That would be a great thing to throw in Kelsharn’s face, would it not? If we were able to control what he could not.”
“I can think of a few other things I would have liked to throw in his face,” Vortok grumbled.
Aduun and Balir laughed. Balir’s beast slipped, giving a tiny bit of ground to the man.
“And now he is gone,” Balir said, “but we are still here.” Though he’d acknowledged it several times already, it was a sobering thought.
“And I am glad, though part of me will long to rip his throat out until I am no more,” said Aduun.
Vortok grunted appreciatively. “We have a real chance for once. A chance to move on from all this. To be free and make a home with Nina and the rest of our people.”
Nina’s smiling face, remembered from their dreams, flitted through Balir’s mind. He’d been able to see her because of her gift. Even if he never regained his sight — and he knew in his heart that he wouldn’t — he would be content to have shared those dreams with her. To have seen Nina and the world through her eyes, through her mind. To know true beauty like he had never known before.
“No matter what is ahead of us, Nina will have the life she deserves,” Balir vowed.
“However much of our blood we must shed, however much pain we must endure,” Aduun added.
“She is ours to protect,” Vortok said, “and nothing will stop us from keeping her safe.”
For a long while, they were quiet, listening to the crackling of the small fire. Distantly, Balir heard the wailing of wind outside the cave. The gentle airflow continued across his skin.
A sudden gasp broke the silence, followed by a series of sharp, shallow breaths. Balir tensed, ready to move to Nina’s side as she stirred. She moaned in pain.
“Nina?” Aduun whispered.
Her only response was another moan, softer and with a confused tone.
“Is she waking?” Balir asked. The beating of his heart sped, if only by a small degree.
“No,” Aduun replied.
“She is warm,” Vortok said. “Too warm.”
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