Niam

NIAM

P ale light, tinged with rose and gold, crept into the cave. I woke disoriented. Stone pressed against my cheek. Damp earth and woodsmoke permeated the air. Then I remembered. The Temple. My escape. Tharon.

He stood near the cave mouth, stroking the thick neck of his bagart. The beast, enormous and imposing even in the dim light, lowered its horned head, nuzzling against Tharon’s hand. The gentleness of the gesture surprised me. A flicker of something – admiration? – warmed me.

This man held a quiet strength that unsettled me more than his earlier displays of power. I knew I could use his help. My body, weakened by the Temple’s rituals, wouldn’t last long in these mountains. But trusting him...

I couldn’t explain the pull I felt towards him. It both thrilled and terrified me.

“Sleep well?”

I jumped, startled. He moved silently for such a large man, his silver-streaked blue hair catching the growing light.

“As well as I could,” I answered, pushing myself up. My muscles protested.

He offered a waterskin. “We should leave soon. I fear those guards won’t be far behind.”

A wave of cold fear washed over me. He was right. I pushed myself to my feet, the movement jarring my stiff limbs.

“We’ll travel faster now that we’re out of the Canyonlands.” He gestured to his bagart. The creature shifted restlessly, pawing at the ground.

“Before yesterday…I’d never ridden one of those.” There hadn’t been time to think about it then. Now, however…

He smirked, a flash of teeth I knew were sharper than human. “Don’t worry. She’s well-trained.” He hoisted himself onto the beast’s back with ease.

My stomach clenched. The bagart’s back rose before me, a dizzying height. I placed a hand on its flank – the leathery hide coarse against my palm – and attempted to pull myself up. My weak muscles screamed in protest. I slipped, grabbing desperately at the beast’s thick mane.

Tharon reached down, his hands circling my waist, lifting me. For a breath, his fingers lingered, his touch burning through my simple tunic. He pulled me up behind him, settling me against his broad back, a wall of heat and strength between me and the world.

The bagart started forward with a lurch. I instinctively wrapped my arms around Tharon's waist, pressing myself against his warmth. My breath hitched. His body was hard and firm against mine, the contours of his muscles arousing. His essence – spices and something musky, something animal – overwhelmed my senses. “Hold on,” he said, his voice low in my ear. The vibration sent a jolt through me.

The bagart’s powerful legs ate up the ground, its movements surprisingly smooth. The wind whipped past my face, the cold air a bracing contrast to the furnace of Tharon’s back. We moved upwards, the path narrowing precariously. I squeezed my eyes shut, my fingers digging into Tharon. The fear of falling was intense, a sickening pull at my gut. But overriding that fear, an acutely aware feeling of Tharon’s powerful body against mine filled all my senses.

The path leveled out, and I cautiously opened my lids. The view was breathtaking. Mountain peaks rose around us, jagged silhouettes against the vibrant sky. Far below, the canyons snaked through the landscape cracks in the earth.

We continued for what felt like hours, the sun climbing higher in the sky. The bagart moved with uncanny surefootedness across the difficult terrain. But even the beast couldn’t conquer everything. A recent rockfall blocked the path, a jumble of boulders strewn across the narrow ledge.

Tharon halted the bagart, signaling for me to stay mounted. He dismounted with a graceful leap, surveying the obstacle with a mask of concentration.

“Stay here,” he instructed, his eyes scanning the terrain.

He began shifting the boulders, tossing them aside with surprising ease. The muscles of his arms and back strained as he handled large slabs of rock like toys. I watched, fascinated despite myself. The Temple had kept me confined for so long, my body weak and undernourished. His raw physical power – the easy way he wielded his strength – was captivating.

The bagart snorted beneath me, tossing its head. It pawed at the ground, its agitation growing.

“Easy, girl,” Tharon murmured, not pausing in his work.

A shadow fell over us. I glanced up and my breath stopped. A creature, unlike anything I had ever seen, swooped down towards us on leathery wings. It was massive, easily twice the size of the bagart, with a body that seemed a horrific blend of reptile and insect. Its face – grotesque and alien – held a decidedly malevolent intelligence. Its claws dripped a viscous, green fluid that sizzled when it struck the rocks.

The bagart reared back, shrieking in terror. I clung desperately to its mane, my heart leaping into my throat. Tharon spun around, his eyes widening at the sight of the monstrous creature.

“Hold on!” he shouted, drawing a wickedly curved blade from his belt.

The creature swooped down, its talons extended towards me. Tharon leapt, intercepting its attack. The clash of metal against chitin rang through the mountain air. The bagart plunged and bucked beneath me, desperate to escape. I gritted my teeth, locking my legs around the beast’s flanks and clinging to its mane with all my strength.

Tharon fought with the ferocity of a cornered animal, his movements blurring with speed. The creature lunged again, its claws tearing at Tharon’s tunic. The fabric ripped, revealing the smooth, bronze skin of his chest.

He roared, a sound so primal and chilling that even I flinched. The creature shrieked in response, its wings creating gusts of wind that threatened to unseat me. It circled, looking for an opening, then dove once more.

This time, Tharon was ready. He rolled beneath its attack, slashing upwards with his blade. A spray of dark ichor erupted from the creature’s underside. It screeched in pain and fury, wheeling away only to turn for another pass.

“!” Tharon called out, his eyes never leaving the circling monster. “When I say, guide the bagart through the gap I’ve cleared. Don’t stop, no matter what!”

I nodded, though he couldn’t see me, my hands tightening on the bagart’s mane. The creature dove once more, and Tharon met its charge head-on. His blade flashed in the sunlight, scoring another hit along the beast’s flank.

“Now!” Tharon bellowed.

I dug my heels into the bagart’s sides, urging it forward. The beast needed little encouragement, bolting through the gap in the boulders Tharon had created. As we passed, I caught a glimpse of Tharon grappling with the winged horror, his muscles straining as he held its snapping jaws at bay.

The bagart raced along the mountain path, its hooves thundering against the rock. I clung to its back, my heart pounding in my ears. Behind us, I heard another bone-chilling roar from Tharon, followed by a pained shriek from the creature.

Minutes stretched like years until the bagart finally drew to a halt, finding refuge in a sheltered clearing. I slid from its back on shaky legs, my entire body trembling from the adrenaline and fear. Where was Tharon? Had he...?

A rustling from the path behind us made me whirl around. Tharon emerged from the underbrush, his clothing torn and stained with both his blood and the creature’s dark ichor. But he was alive, and the fierce grin on his face sent a jolt through me that had nothing to do with fear.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes scanning me for injury.

I nodded, unable to find my voice. He approached, his hand reaching out to steady me, and I found myself leaning into his touch, craving the safety and warmth he offered.

“What was that thing?” I finally managed to ask.

Tharon’s expression darkened. “Something that shouldn’t be here. We need to move. There might be more, and we’re still too close to the Temple.”