Page 49 of The Moon's Fury
“Maybe we’ll climb them together one day,” she murmured wistfully.
Zarian kissed her hand. “We will,” he promised.
She tore her gaze away from the Mountains, refocusing on the dirt path before them. “How many days to Sendouk?”
“A little over a week, if we limit breaks.”
He was more serious now out in the open, more warrior than man. She missed their brief time in Janta, in that small room where worries couldn’t reach them.
“I’m ready for a break,” she teased, gliding her hand up his thigh.
“Are you, now?” he rumbled, the timbre of his voice dropping. “And here I thought I made sure you were—”
An arrow whizzed through the air, passing mere inches from his face. Najoom whinnied, loud and shrill, and reared up.
To her left, there were at least five cloaked shadows emerging from behind trees near the base of the closest mountain.
Most of the men had long, braided hair, adorned with beads and trinkets. Crude tattoos marked their faces—faded black symbols inked across foreheads and cheeks. The closest man leered at them, his lips peeling back to reveal a horrifying smile—his teeth were shaved down into sharp points, resembling a wild animal.
Bandits.
Zarian dug his heels into Najoom’s sides, spurring him onward, but three more bandits waited up ahead, all armed with bows. Another arrow flew, embedding into the ground in front of Najoom. The stallion reared up, whinnying loudly, and she clutched Zarian’s waist to avoid being flung.
“Be asb zarar nazan!” one of the mountainside bandits shouted, gesturing at Najoom.
Zarian swore, pulling two throwing stars from his baldric and launching them at the bandits in their path. One pierced through a man’s eye, but the other missed its mark as the man dove to the ground.
Her heart began to race, her powers humming beneath her skin along with it. Taking deep breaths, she commanded the erratic, untamed light to remain inside her. She quickly unstrapped her newly gifted bow from Najoom’s side and nocked an arrow, aiming it at the bandits on the mountainside.
She inhaled and held it within her lungs.
She loosed. The bandit fell to the ground, arrow jutting from his chest.
She exhaled.She could do this.
As she focused, the humming dimmed in her ears.
In her periphery, she saw another man fall ahead of them. Zarian dug his heels into Najoom, urging him into a thunderous gallop. She tightened her thighs, using them to grip the stallion while keeping her aim steady.
She loosed.
She didn’t miss.
Zarian closed in quickly on the last remaining bandit in their path. The lone man fired an arrow, but Zarian yanked the reins, and Najoom veered swiftly to the side. The bandit dropped his bow and turned to flee, a foolish attempt to outrun his death.
When they neared, Zarian easily cut down the man with his blade. As he sheathed his sword, he froze, his gaze seemingly catching sight of something.
Two more arrows.
Headed right toward them.
She blinked, and Zarian’s hand shot out andcaughtthe arrow that would have pierced her arm.
But he couldn’t stop the second one.
The arrow embedded itself into his side, and a pained grunt escaped him, the ragged sound turning her blood to ice. She nocked an arrow and took aim, but he threw himself in front of her, shielding her with his body as another arrow sliced through the air, burying itself in his shoulder.
“Zarian!” she cried. He ignored her, taking hold of the reins and urging Najoom into a frenzied gallop.
