Page 35 of The Weaver

The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and a fresh shiver stole through her, emanating from her spine in a cold wave.

Rekosh’s chin ticked upward, and his fingers froze. Despite his lack of pupils, Ahmya knew he was looking past her. His mandibles spread wider.

“Shitfuck,” he rasped.

“I’m guessing those aren’t the words you’ve been wanting to share,” Ahmya said, her voice coming out small, thin, and unsteady.

Distant thunder rolled across the sky, but she barely noticedit. Neither did she notice the sound of heavier, faster raindrops pattering on the surrounding vegetation. The only noise she truly registered was an ululating growl from behind her.

Against her better judgment, she turned her head to peek over her shoulder. Her stomach plummeted.

A beast stood in the open not thirty feet behind her. She glimpsed a sleek, narrow head, long limbs, dark blue fur and a full green mane. It was at least as large as a mountain lion.

And its predatory yellow eyes were fixed on her.

Great. Another wild animal that wants to eat me.

And here she was having broken one of Ketahn’s golden rules—she was unarmed.

The creature burst into motion, muscles rippling beneath its short fur as it charged toward her.

Ahmya cried out, flinching away from the creature. She’d barely moved an inch when a pair of long, powerful arms banded around her and swept her off the ground.

Instinctively, she threw her arms around Rekosh’s neck, clamped her thighs around his sides, and clung to him.

“I have you.” His voice rumbled into her. It was strong enough, clear and steady enough, to overcome the deafening pounding of her heart and the thrumming fear radiating from her bones.

He swung his bag behind his back, snatched up his spear in his right hands, and twisted his torso, angling Ahmya away from the charging beast as he thrust his weapon.

She felt the impact jolt through him, and she heard the faint squelching of punctured flesh, the crunch of breaking bone, and a bestial whine. Something heavy crashed onto the ground before Rekosh. The beast thrashed, disturbing the detritus. Rekosh raised his forelegs, growled, and slammed them down.

The struggles ceased. Ahmya felt his muscles tense as he tore his spear free.

She released a shaky breath and eased her grip on Rekosh. “What was?—”

“Hold,” he commanded. “Tight.”

Before she could even wonder why he’d tell her to do so, Rekosh broke into a run. The sudden movement jostled her. Ahmya dug her fingers into his hide as she clutched him—not that his arms would’ve let her fall.

She blinked raindrops from her eyes. Trees and plants whipped past on either side. Over Rekosh’s shoulder, she saw the spot where they’d been foraging only moments ago growing increasingly distant in the deepening gloom, which meant their camp was growing increasingly distant.

Why were they moving away from camp? Away from the others?

Was Lacey okay? Had she and Okkor made it back safely?

A chill crept through Ahmya’s veins, coiled in her chest, and constricted. The thought of her friend being harmed was far scarier than any danger this jungle could throw at her.

“Rekosh, we need to find the others!”

“No,” he replied.

“But—”

A pulse of lightning illuminated the jungle. Multiple pairs of yellow eyes flashed in the surrounding shadows, all directed at Ahmya. That instant of light was enough for her to make out the dark, bestial forms attached to those eyes giving chase to Rekosh.

Every hair on Ahmya’s body rose in alarm. She curled her fingers, pressing her nails even more firmly into his hide.

“Um, Rekosh…”

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