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“You shall travel back to Dezia with me, in the heart of the Sanna Desert, in the place of your parents.”
“The Sanna Desert?” she squawked, hastily rising to her feet. Oh no, no, she didn’t want to go there. There were venomous things in the desert, and she would fry in the sun. “I think there’s been some mistake.”
“No mistake. You are here and have the skills I need. And you need work, do you not?” he added, plucking the leather tube from the table, dropping the rolled advertisement into his hand. He partially unrolled it, read the first few words and snorted softly before tossing it onto the table, where it spilled open in front of her. He gestured to it loftily. “You are a monster hunter and my people desperately need your service.”
“But the desert,” she argued weakly, feeling as if a trap were closing around her that she hadn’t even realized that she’d spun for herself. As she was currently advertising her availability, she couldn’t refuse without disgracing the reputation of her family and ruining any prospective career for herself. Not without a good reason. “I have never been exposed to that sort of sun. I could burn, get heat-sickness, then there are the scorpions…”
Her voice faded as he chuckled and shook his head. “Nonsense, Tomas Sinclair is from the Sanna. As his daughter, you will adjust quickly enough. I will arrange your passage. Be ready and send whatever missives you need to your parents. Our boat leaves tomorrow at noon. Oh, and here is an incentive for your trouble. There will be more to come once the job is finished.”
The bag he dropped on the table was heavy enough with coin that its thud and the clank of metal within it halted any further protest on her lips. He whirled away with a flare of his cloak, but she barely noticed because her eyes widened further, then fixed on the money pouch. It was more than they’d ever been offered for any job. She could take enough to see her through with supplies and food for months and still have enough to leave in the family coffers for when they returned. Surely, they couldn’t object to that. Especially if that was just a small amount of what was to come. They could be comfortably flush with gold even if her family returned empty-handed.
She licked her lips, picturing the pride on their faces when she returned.
“Sure,” she whispered to the empty room. “I’ll do it.”
The tripby boat across the sea was an exercise in misery, but it was nothing compared to the endless heat and sand as they traveled across the Sanna. Abby’s stomach lurched with every sway of her mount. She’d already privately wretched a multitude of times between embarking on the boat and their strike across the desert, but if Zayman Bibal had taken any notice of it, he had refrained from remarking upon it so long as she kept her complaints to herself.
Not that it improved her situation any. After seeing her supplied and seated uneasily on a bindwik feathered camel hybrid, she was sent off into the desert on her own with nothing more than a guide to help her get to her destination and abandon her forthwith. And that was exactly how she came to be standing outside a massive cave, with sand uncomfortably accumulating in places she didn’t even want to think about, as she considered her next step.
Abby eyed the cave speculatively from where she crouched behind one of the jagged rocks near the mouth of the cave. Normally she would make a rush for it, eager to get out of the blistering sun, but the murderous predator dwelling in it sort of put a snag in things. Even with a simple light spell, the monster would have the advantage of tight quarters and better sight. Unfortunately, she wasn’t any safer outside either if they were on equal ground. This wasn’t just some beast, which would be dangerous enough out in the open, but an intelligent and cunning predator. Which meant that she was putting herself within eating distance, regardless. She also had to consider that, with the evening quickly approaching, the manticore would emerge soon. Her guide had at least been useful enough to inform her of the creature’s hunting habits before dumping her with nothing but her supplies, a farewell, and a reassurance that he would return in a few days to collect her if she was still alive.
She pursed her lips as she rolled the weight of her javelin in her hand. When it came down to it, did she want to be on the menu trapped underground, or outside where she had a lot more maneuvering room? She snorted softly to herself and jabbed her javelin into the sand. That was obvious. While she could use the cave to her advantage as well, it was infinitely in her favor to wait outside the cave and attack it from a stronger position when it emerged. But then again, it would just be very bad if the manticore actually got outside where it also had more room to attack.
Glancing up at the glaring sun, she estimated she had a few hours at best. According to said guide, the creature emerged in the early hours of the evening and could be seen prowling in the desert at any time until near midday. She would have to make camp close to the mouth of the cave and remain on watch. When he emerged, he would be well aware of her presence long before he even came out of the cave and on the attack.
She scratched her ear and blew several strands of dark, curly hair out of her face as she squinted at the entrance. When it came right down to it, there really wasn’t much to lose by simply just going in. She might even be lucky enough to catch the creature off-guard and asleep.
Decided, she thumped the butt of her spear on the sand and stood. Drawing her cloak around her, she edged her way toward the mouth of the cave and took her first step inside the dark interior. Her breath escaped in a sharp exhalation as the sudden bite of cool air coming from the cavern’s depths. It was startling but a relief after being out in the blistering sun all day. Drawing a brass scarab from her pocket, she whispered the spell of the rising light that had been one of the first spells she’d learned in her youth. The brass insect began to glow with just enough light that she could see the walls of the cave and the downward sloping floor. The light didn’t penetrate far, but it was serviceable for a hunter. Smiling grimly, she descended into the cavern, marking the way the walls grew narrower with her every step. At some points, she had to stop and shimmy sideways through passages or slide along her belly on the cold, damp stone floor. Stalagmites and stalactites dotted some of the larger caverns the system opened into.
She paused as it opened to a green pool of water that extended from the banks ahead of her. Stalagmites jutted like dozens of teeth from the cold water, the moisture on them shimmering in the light of her spell. Abby pursed her lips as she inwardly whistled in appreciation. The cave system was far deeper and more impressive than she initially thought it to be.
Stepping to the edge of the pool, she glanced down and noted the steep and abrupt drop of the cavern floor beneath its clear surface. Wading across definitely wasn’t an option. That left the stalagmites. She squinted across the surface of the water at them. They were each wide enough that they appeared to form an odd bridge with their wide flared edges just above the water that disappeared in the darkness. Each stalagmite edge seemed to be wide enough to easily hold a person… or a monster. Gods, she hated trusting the unknown.
Whispering a levitation command to the brass scarab, she opened her hand as it sprouted shimmering wings and fluttered roughly a foot away from her. It was a shame that she didn’t have any equally convenient way to deal with her javelin. Shedding her cloak, she ignored the way her skin prickled at the sudden shock of direct exposure to the cold air and slid her javelin home into the leather slots attached to the harness. The temperature and humidity within the cavern were miserable, but the cloak was a small sacrifice to keep her weapon at hand and being able to carry it across the water.
She gave an experimental bounce and was satisfied that, though her tits jiggled far too much for her liking, her javelin remained secured. With a nod of satisfaction, she tightened the bracers around her gloves as she stepped toward the nearest stalagmite. It was close enough to the embankment that she could hop onto easily. The progressing stalagmites proved to be a little more difficult. She was forced to take leaps, often fueled with the forward momentum of her previous jump, to clear the distance between some of the larger and more imposing stones. Sweat quickly began to slick her skin and gathered in the most inconvenient places as she made her way across. It was finally, with one last perilous leap to an embankment heavily shrouded in darkness, that her feet landed on the firm cavern floor once more, sending tiny stones scattering.
Brushing back the dark coil of hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her face, she didn’t hesitate to strike off immediately for the yawning darkness ahead. The scarab zipped in front of her as she walked, always keeping within a couple feet radius as she made her way down the long, dark tunnel to whatever lay within. In contrast to the coolness of the rest of the cave, she realized a heat emanating from below and her heart sped up.
“And there in the darkness, Abby Sinclair steps into the mouth of the beast’s den. The monstrous manticore awaits in the unnatural heat fueled by the flames of its infernal breath,” she whispered. “A creature of such an appetite that it has been the ruin of towns and might be the ruin of our heroine, our monster hunter, yet.”
A snort echoed up the tunnel, and for a moment she froze, her eyes widening. The scarab hovered, however, seemingly undisturbed. Abby frowned and pulled her javelin free. Keeping her breathing light, she remained frozen in place for several minutes as she listened for any signs of movement… or anything at all. When no other sounds immediately came, she started forward again, albeit at a more cautious pace, as she delved deeper.
The further she went, the more the cavern heated until it possessed a balminess that was equal to the night air outside the cave system but minus the threat of the sun’s boiling heat once it rose into the sky. It was no wonder that the manticore preferred to sleep away the days down there and hunt at night. Her brow furrowed. Was that light up ahead? She squinted, blinded by the unexpected light.
The growl that trembled in the air was far too close when it came, and she was nearly a hair too slow, bringing her javelin up in front of her when the creature burst from out of nowhere. Planting her feet, Abby instinctively thrust upward but found herself knocked back off her feet for her effort as her javelin was shoved back at her with surprising force. With a shout of alarm, she rolled, barely evading the swiping claws extending from something that was as much of a hand as it was a paw. They scored the rock with a loud shriek, and she rolled back, slamming the wooden staff of her weapon into the creature’s head.
A curse split the air that gave her a momentary pause, but it was followed by a monstrous bellow that made her blood run cold. Readjusting her grip, she stabbed blindly as the scarab flittered too erratically with the magic’s attempt to follow her movements. A heavy masculine grunt echoed through the cave as claws scraped across the floor as her javelin’s lethal tip was neatly evaded.
“Fuck me,” she hissed beneath her breath as she attempted to push herself up from her ass, only to find her knocked back again as her javelin was wrenched brutally from her hands.
Her breath exploded from her as her back hit the rocks, followed by the thump of her head cracking against the ground, but that was nowhere near as painful as hearing the splintering shatter of wood echo around her. Hot breath scored her as a weight prowled over her prone form. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision. Deep golden fur and a rough feline face, maned in crimson, rose above her. Green eyes, the dark pupils of which contracted into thin, slitted diamonds. The manticore. His mouth opened wide, revealing sharp teeth and fangs, and just behind him she could see the shadow of his enormous scorpion’s tail rising for the killing strike.
What remained of her breath shuddered out of her and she dragged in a quick, painful breath as she wrenched a dagger free from her harness and pressed it against the thick neck that bulged beneath the heavy mane that fell over her arm. There was a pause and the creature’s green eyes blinked slowly, its fangs just inches from her face. A thread of saliva dripped from its mouth onto her cheek, and she grimaced.
“Disgusting,” she muttered to herself. The eyes narrowed further in insult, and she smirked at it. “Understood that, didn’t you? Well, perhaps you understand this, you bite down and I will ram this into your damned throat.”
Its breath fanned her in a growl. “Attempt to slit my throat, and I will not hesitate to bite off that pretty face.”
