David Dalglish - Wrath of Lions

But the rock face and cliff were not what had captured Kindren’s attention. Aully followed his gaze, which was fixed on a strange black finger of obsidian down below them. Bardiya was standing beside it, and the thing was three times as tall as the giant.

“Wow,” she whispered.

“Stay low,” Kindren said, gently pushing her down until both of them lay on their bellies in the shifting sands. A gust of wind blew, assaulting her face and eyes. She buried her head in her arm, waiting for it to stop.

When it did, she glanced over to see Kindren spitting and wiping splotches of dirt from his mouth. He smiled awkwardly at her, his pale cheeks flushing red.

“Stupid wind,” he said.

“Missed some.” She reached over, wiped a few stray granules from the corner of his lip with her thumb.

“Where would I be without you, Aully?”

“Probably locked in your room back at your parents’ palace.”

She had meant it as a joke, but Kindren grimaced just the same, averting his eyes and staring down at the jutting black rock. Aully sighed, muttered a curse to herself, and did the same, shielding her eyes when another squall hit them.

“Who else is down there?” Kindren asked. His voice was soft.

Aully squinted. “Don’t know. Hard to see through the wind and all.”

“Looks like a guy on a horse. Or with a horse. He’s all shiny too.” She looked at Kindren, who was straining to see, as if he could create a looking glass by squeezing his eyelids together tightly enough. “He looks…funny.”

“Funny how? I can’t see anything. It’s all blurry.”

Kindren shrugged. “Shaped funny. Don’t know. Probably just a trick of light or something.”

“Maybe.”

He rolled over then, peering at her with frowning lips. “Aully, that wasn’t fair.”

“What?” she asked. “I just said ‘maybe.’”

Kindren shook his head. “No, not that. What you said about me being locked in my room. You know I risked everything to get you out of Dezerea, but what I did…I didn’t do it just because of you.”

She stared at him, uncertain of what to say.

Kindren closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “I helped Ceredon free you because it was right . Because it was horrible what the Neyvar and my parents did to your family. I would have done it under any circumstances. Please know that.”

Shame filled her.

“It was just a joke,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

He threw his arm around her and smiled. “I know. And it’s okay, I’m not mad. I’m really not. I just…I just need you to understand the kind of man I am. It’s not always about just you and me. If we’re ever going to get home, we have to think about what’s right for everyone else too. That is something you want, right?”

She nodded.

Kindren kissed her, then slapped at the sand. “You know what? Let’s head back. There’s nothing to see here, and it makes me feel dirty spying on the one human who considers us his equals.”

“All right.”

They stood up while the giant and the mystery man continued their summit down below. Turning back, they began the journey home. The sudden winds had erased their tracks in the sand, giving Aully a moment of fright, but Kindren seemed confident. Her spirits rose ever so slightly, and she leaned into him, pressing her ear to his chest so that she could hear the beat of his heart.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling.

“For what?”

“For dealing with me.”

She gazed up at his beautiful face as he guided her along, and her heart nearly stopped when his expression darkened and he brought them both to a halt. What did I say now? she thought, but then she heard a low, guttural rumble.

They were standing before the rock face. A shape appeared on the pure sandblasted surface of stone, a creature that matched the white and taupe colors of the desert, slinking on four legs through the arch between two of the peaks, tramping over the bronzed grasses at the base of the formation. A blood-red tongue licked over a pair of wicked incisors as the sandcat stalked closer.

“Get behind me, Aully,” Kindren whispered from the side of his mouth. “Go slow, no sudden movements.”

He gently nudged her, and she slipped around his back, holding onto his thin cotton tunic with both hands. Kindren backed up one step, then another, hunkering down and holding his arms out as if preparing to grapple. The sandcat came closer still, its paws sinking into the sand with every stride, its emerald-green eyes desperate with hunger. The thing was barely as big as Aully herself, but when it yawned out a sound like a bag of rocks shaking together, she realized just how huge its jaws were. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember what Bardiya had told them about the beasts. All she could recall was some nonsense about sandcats being just as sacred as elves and humans, and they should feel honored if and when they came face to face with one. “Until it rips out your throat and eats you alive,” Kindren had quipped afterward.

It didn’t seem so funny now.

“They’re afraid of fire,” she whispered, remembering the one lesson she had taken from Bardiya’s lecture.

Kindren made a steeple with his fingers, holding them in front of his face.

“Then let’s give it a show.”

He muttered a few words of magic, and a small flame rose from his fingertips. The sandcat paused, and when Kindren swung his arm in an arc, making the fire trail in a circle, the beast backed away.

“That’s right, go back where you came from,” said Kindren. It sounded like he was laughing.

That laugh did not last long. The sandcat lunged forward, its paws a blur as it raced toward them, its maw opened wide, baring its deadly teeth. Aully screeched, and Kindren shoved her away. The fire from his fingertips fizzled in his panic as he brought up his arm to shield his face from the sandcat. Aully watched, frozen with terror, as the creature’s jaws bit down on his forearm, causing her love to scream in pain. Blood flowed down his elbow as he fell to the ground. The sandcat’s paws raked frantically against Kindren’s sides, ripping through tunic and flesh, painting the desert sand red.

Watching her love be mauled by the sandcat enraged Aully. She scampered to her feet in the shifting sand and raced toward the beast, her ears filled with the sounds of Kindren’s pained shrieks and the sandcat’s snarls and growls. She leapt atop the beast, pounding her clenched fists into the back of its neck. It was like punching a stone wall covered in moss. Her fists having had no effect, she grabbed the thing by its ears and pulled with all her might. The sandcat reared up on its hind legs, shaking itself free from her grip. The force of it flung her back, and she landed hard, the wind knocked out of her. When her vision stopped spinning, she saw the sandcat staring at her, green eyes glaring with hunger.

Aully stumbled to her feet once more, trying to run from it, but she was too slow. She felt searing pain in her spine as its claws tore through fabric. It was worse than when she’d broken her arm falling from one of the trees back in Stonewood, when she was eight. In a last-ditch effort, she dove to the side, jarring her chin and swallowing a mouthful of sand when she fell. The sandcat raced past her, sliding on its side when it tried to veer too sharply.

Aully reached around to touch her torn back, and when she brought her hand in front of her face, it dripped with blood. The sight of it somehow cooled the pit of fear and panic in her stomach. Everything she’d experienced, every bit of suffering since the Ekreissar’s march into Dezerea, came flooding back. Her father’s death, their time in the dungeons, the systematic execution of her people…her poor sister Brienna’s death at the hands of faceless attackers in some barren land. All the unfairness, all the injustice flared deep within her, flooding her with an anger she could hardly believe was her own.