She lay right here beside me in this bed. Her form so small and trusting in sleep. Even now, her flat little feet were creeping towards me, attempting to dig under my thigh, seeking warmth. This tiny action, this unconscious desire of hers, was sacred to me. Brought me more peace than I’d ever known before.
I had never been taught what happiness was.
But if I had to define it now, if I had to give it another name, it would be hers.
“What else could this be,” I asked the Vrika, gesturing at Nazreen’s toes against my leg, the nearly mundane, holy perfection of it all, “if not a mate bond?”
The Vrika did not answer.
I wondered how long it would remain there. The last two times it came for me, it disappeared soon afterwards, as if awareI would not follow it. But now, it merely waited and watched me, as if expecting something.
And maybe that sense of expectation was altering my perception of the scene. Because suddenly, a cool dread licked up the back of my neck. Irrationally, it made me want to gather the bundle that was Nazreen up into my arms.
Instead, I stood and gathered my weapons. Bow. Arrows. A single, long blade.
It was time to be getting back to my duties. For now, I remained Gahn. And there was work to be done. The fastest way to get back outside would be through the natural opening in this cave, and I’d spent too long here already. Even so, I took a moment to stop and look at Nazreen in the bed, the dark rivers of her hair, the moonlit gleam of her cheekbone. For some reason, it felt suddenly paramount that I commit her to memory. Just like this.
When that was done, I made my way out onto the landing of stone that jutted out from the healers’ cave and leaped over the natural stone barrier. Not far below was a ledge that I landed upon. There were paths down from here, but Yeralk was likely close by, waiting for my summons. It would save time to simply mount him from here. I called for him.
The Vrika landed on the stone below. We both waited.
But it was not Yeralk who appeared but a few heartbeats later.
It was the borog.
We had not seen it since the attack that injured Nazreen. Fear gripped me. Not for myself, but for Nazreen who slept so soundly just above and within. But the borog did not aim itself towards me or Nazreen’s sleeping place.
It went for the Vrika.
And then a new fear found me. Could something like a borog kill the Vrika?
I did not know. The Vrika was an immortal creature.
But I’d never seen something try to kill it before.
The Vrika was moving at once, slipping through the air like misting breath on a cold night. The borog followed, beating its heavy wings, jaws snapping.
“Yeralk!” I bellowed, but the faithful creature was here now, diving at me like an arrow. I caught his neck without him even needing to stop and land, hauling myself up onto his back. Together, we plunged after the two massive winged beings.
Perhaps this was not wise. Shooting after the borog like this alone. But only one man was needed to get below it and kill it. And there was no time – even now it was nipping hungrily at the Vrika’s shimmering tail.
I would not let anything happen to the Vrika. It would mean the end of our ways, our people. The end of the Deep Sky entirely.
One benefit to the malevolent borog’s ability to fly was that a man could get beneath it and try to pierce its vulnerable places without being trapped and subjected to the lethal spray of its toxic blood. It was one of the reasons my men and I were riding so hard these days, patrolling constantly for the borog. If only one of us could fly below it, and have an arrow shoot true, we could be victorious.
With this in mind, I urged Yeralk on, faster and lower. Mountains bled through the air around us, smeared by speed. The Vrika was leading the borog higher, which worked well for my purposes. In rapid succession, I shot three arrows at the borog’s underside, but none hit the right place. That narrow band where its throat met the broad, armoured span of its chest.
“Blast!”
The Vrika slipped around a towering outcropping of stone. The borog followed with less grace, crashing against the stone and sending great boulders down to the ground, scrabbling withits claws and launching back into the air. I realized then that the Vrika was leading us back to its peak. Perhaps that was where it felt safest. Yeralk and I followed closely. Eventually, I gave up entirely on trying to direct Yeralk, trusting him to know what to do as I loosed arrow after arrow, every chance I got.
Not a single one was successful. And by the time we’d reached the base of the Vrika’s peak, the borog had advanced enough to snatch the sacred Vrika’s tail between its mighty jaws, dragging it down to the ground.
“No!” I aimed a shot at the writhing knot of the two battling bodies, but it merely clattered off the borog’s back. I reached for another. My fist closed upon empty air.
Out of arrows. Out of time.
I leaped from Yeralk without a second thought.
