Page 26 of Golden Star

The best solution seems to be to remain here. The bushes don’t provide great cover, but it’s better than nothing. If the monster doesn’t look over here, we might have a chance.

But my heart’s beating so loudly that I can hear it. Zoey’s, too.

The creature tilts its head, like it’s listening for something.

Then its eyes—those glowing, terrifying eyes—zero in straight on us.

Sapphire

My stomach plummets.

The monster sees us.

Zoey and I remain frozen in place—as if we can make it somehowunsee us—when it lunges, faster than I thought something that thin and decrepit could move.

Its bony limbs stretch out, reaching for Zoey with its clawed, mangled hands.

Panic rushes through me.

Then, as if the universe can feel the intensity of my desperation, a gust of wind hits the monster, catching it unaware and making it stumble back.

It rebounds quickly.

Zoey picks up a fallen branch and holds it up like a weapon, as if she’s an Amazonian warrior goddess.

The monster’s eyes lock on her, and it lunges with aferal scream that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Fear for Zoey’s life surges through me, and I call on the water, pulling it from the stream and forming a barrier between us and the creature.

It rises like a wall, shimmering and shifting.

The monster crashes into it. But while the water ripples, it holds.

I exhale, relief flooding through me.

Then, the monster rears back and lets out a furious growl, its claws slicing through the water like it’s nothing.

I’m not powerful enough—or at least not trained well enough, given that I’ve never been trained at all—to control the water like I want to. Especially not with something this huge and feral attacking us.

I’m gathering more water as Zoey swings her branch as if it’s a giant baseball bat, hitting the creature square across the face.

It staggers back with an ear-splitting screech, blood running down its face from its eye socket—its eye seemingly crushed from Zoey’s swing.

“Let’s go!” I tell her, but the monster lunges again, its claws outstretched and aiming for her throat.

Refusing to let the monster get to her, I thrust out my hands, and the water from the stream surges up like a wave, crashing into the monster and knocking it back.

The monster shakes it off as if it’s nothing.

Fear shoots through me. But I push harder, drawing more water from the stream and using it to create a tube-shield thing that encircles me and Zoey, who’s holding the branch with one hand and a particularly sharp rock in the other.

The monster slashes at the shield, threatening to tear it apart, and I glance around in panic.

The shield is keeping the monster back for now. But how long will I be able to hold onto my magic like this?

I have no idea.

Which means we’ll have to outrun this thing.

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