Chapter 19

QUINN

Quinn's heart raced, his chest still heaving from the passionate intimacy he had just shared with Ana. He longed to linger in her embrace, to bask in the afterglow, but the grim report from the gnomes of yet another village reduced to ruins allowed no respite.

His father's commanding voice echoed sternly in his mind: "Find them, then return to the castle at once. Gather the guards needed to crush these vile attackers." The responsibility of his birthright, the expectation to lead and protect, left no room for personal desires.

Steeling himself, Quinn dressed hurriedly and set forth on his urgent expedition. He dispatched some soldiers to search for the attackers' path, while others scoured the hamlet for survivors. Eerily, none were found. No bodies, no frightened villagers.

His mind torn between sworn duty and the beautiful woman he was forced to leave behind. Yet he took some solace in knowing Ana remained under the watchful eye of his most trusted kin. Alone, Quinn aided in the hunt for the juguai. He soared over a canopy of ancient trees, their leaves like whispers of a coming storm. The brutes were huge and fast, but they surprisingly left little trail.

Yet he discovered a trace and followed it deeper into the shadowed woods, where danger lurked. The scent of burning wood and the light of a fire drew him closer. With senses heightened, he stumbled upon their camp, hidden amidst leafy giants.

His stomach lurched. He focused his gaze, the shadows parting to reveal a horrifying sight. A monstrous leg, covered in coarse brown fur, protruded from a nearby bush. Beside it, a half-eaten, blood-stained bone lay discarded on the dirt. In the clearing, the blaze crackled, casting flickering shapes that danced across the ground. It seemed they were either unconcerned about being discovered or too eager to start their feast of roasted meat.

Further in the distance, a heap of lifeless animals added to the macabre scene. Their stiff forms were destined for the same fate. Bile rose in his throat. They were preparing their next course. Yet something was missing. No shred of gargoyle remains was in that pile. No sign of survivors, either.

As he turned to retrace his steps, a subtle breeze carried a tantalizing scent—familiar, intoxicating, nearly imperceptible amidst the foul stench of the juguai. His loins tightened, and he knew it instantly: Ana. But how?

He had entrusted her safety to his cousin, yet here she was, bound to a tree like a fragile bird ensnared by a cruel fate. Her head lolled to the side, her face pale and drawn, a stark contrast to the vibrant female he loved.

Panic clawed at his throat as sweat trickled down his temples. Four hulking juguai guarded her, their forms a menacing circle with no opening to exploit. Fear warred with desperation. He was alone, far from help. Yet, he had to free her. Each passing moment felt like an eternity.

In that treacherous instant, hope flickered like a distant star when his gaze caught the subtle glint of her anklet—the one concealing a hidden blade. Relief surged through him, brief and desperate. They had neglected securing her below her waist, perhaps underestimating her resilience.

He remembered her in the garden, gracefully learning to wield her tail as she plucked vegetables. The same appendage that now lay unrestrained. Could she release herself? He clung to that possibility, faith burning like a fragile flame.

Yet escape required more than hope. A diversion, a clever ruse to disrupt their gruesome banquet and create an opening. She could flee to the cave beneath the nearby cliff, a refuge too narrow for the juguai to pursue. His heart pounded; he would risk everything to see her safe.

However, he feared for her safety if he flew for help, not knowing how much time she had until they feasted. A surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins, fueling his determination. Time was running out, and he had to act swiftly. Yet the presence of four imposing beasts meant that one wrong move could lead to his capture and Ana's certain demise.

His mind raced, desperately seeking a strategy or a distraction that would tip the odds in their favor. His sword hung at his side. He could fight, inflict damage, and maybe even take one down. But four?

His love for Ana burned brighter than his fear, pushing him to take a desperate gamble, even if it meant sacrificing himself. He had to save her. He refused to let her fate be just another forgotten bone on the forest floor.

ANA

A jolt of pain ripped through Ana. Her head throbbed, a dull ache radiating from her chest. Bound to a gnarled tree, she strained against the thick rope, frustration burning in her throat.

Not again!

The rough bark pressed into her back, but her legs were free. Relief was short-lived. Agony flared as she shifted, her entire body screaming in protest. Attempts to break the stalwart cord were futile—the fibers dug into her skin, offering no give.

An enormous bonfire, its flames licking wildly at the night sky, cast flickering shadows that danced across the clearing. Smoke, dense and acrid, stung her eyes and choked the air. The silence was broken only by the crackling fire and the rustling of unseen creatures in the endless darkness beyond the clearing's edge. Towering trees, their branches a tangled canopy high above, swayed in the night breeze.

Moss-covered stones peeked through the grass. To her right, the forest spread endlessly. On the left, a sheer cliff rose, flames dancing playfully on its precarious rock face.

The ground trembled. A sickening mix of fresh wood, smoke, and something foul grew stronger. Four hulking figures lumbered into view. Grotesque parodies of men, their lumpy faces stretched taut over bared, dagger-like teeth. A primal fear gripped Ana … juguai just as from her nightmare.

Tattered rags barely clothed their massive bodies, their pale green skin reflecting the firelight. Weapons lay scattered nearby: a club, hammer, flail, and, most disturbingly, a frying pan. Next to them, a pile of dead animals sent bile rising in her throat.

With a bone-jarring crash, they tossed logs onto the fire, their guttural language grating on her. Their limbs dwarfed the surrounding tree trunks. Grimy hair matted over plate-sized ears and enormous noses sat above gaping maws dripping with saliva.

Struggling against the binds, relief washed over her … the cuff with the hidden blade was still on her ankle. Yet as she inched her foot toward her hand, it slipped from her trembling fingers just as it reached her hand. Gritting her teeth, she willed herself calm.

With a determined breath, she snaked her tail and retrieved it. The pain from her injuries faded into the background as she focused on the task.

A roar shattered the night. Quinn swooped down. "Beasts! Your reign of terror ends now," he snarled, fangs bared. His face was etched with fury as the wind whipped through his hair.

A whirlwind of emotions flooded Ana—fear for him, awe at his bravery, a fierce protectiveness. Yet, a new horror gnawed at her. He was alone. Four hulking juguais loomed, a formidable challenge for anyone.

The monsters roared, and with a cacophony of guttural yells charged toward Quinn. The ground trembled with their heavy steps. Desperation fueled her as she sawed at the ropes. If either of them were to survive, she needed to act.

Quinn dodged a flying frying pan with inches to spare, then retaliated with a swift slash at a juguai, severing its Achilles tendon. The creature howled in pain, collapsing and clutching his leg.

Quinn circled, striking at the remaining three. Blood splattered, roars echoed, and the stench of fury filled the air. He weaved around their attacks, scoring wounds with each strike. Yet they were relentless, frustration contorting their faces. A flail swung, narrowly missing him.

The juguais swiped at him like they were swatting flies. Quinn kicked one in the face, but it barely fazed the beast. He dodged a club that nearly took his head off, only to be grabbed by the leg and thrown to the ground.

"No," Ana screamed, tears streaming down her face. They tossed him against a tree, then pummeled him, each blow a sickening thud. Her struggles to break free became frantic, fueled by rage and a desperate need to help him.

Finally, the ropes gave way. She stumbled to her feet, a surge of adrenaline coursing through her. They wouldn't take him, not over her dead body. She returned her knife to her sheath.

Quinn lifted his head, his eyes locking with hers. Blood trickled from his face, but a faint smile played on his lips. He mouthed a single word, "Flee," before collapsing again.

A primal roar tore from Ana's throat, a sound that rivaled the approaching juguais. Fury warred with terror, but the need to protect Quinn fueled a foolish plan.

"Hey, ugly sacks of filth," she screamed, snatching several large stones. Her throws were wild, boosted by adrenaline. They achieved no damage against the hulking brutes but managed to get their attention.

They charged. Frantic, Ana ripped a thick branch from a nearby tree. She swung it with urgent force as they loomed closer, aiming for a juguai's leg. The impact jarred through her arm, the limb splintering uselessly. The juguai roared in laughter, its breath reeking of decay.

Panic gripped her throat with the desperate need to escape from them. Outrunning them—a ludicrous notion—remained her only option. She couldn't allow them to take Quinn without putting up a fight. In an attempt to divert their attention away from him, she bolted toward the imposing cliff face. Her heart pounded. Her tinkling outfit acted as a bell, luring them.

A shadowed alcove offered potential refuge—a cave, perhaps? Yet the thought of leaving Quinn ignited a fresh wave of terror. If she escaped, the juguais would turn their wrath on him.

A desperate idea sparked as her eyes landed on the precariously balanced boulders teetering on the cliff's edge above them. Skidding to a halt, she grabbed a hefty stone. The ground trembled with the monsters' approach, their guttural laughter a horrifying symphony.

Their grotesque faces swam into view, sending shivers down her spine. The rock felt heavy in her hand, but desperation lent it wings. With a heave that ripped a scream from her throat, she hurled it at the precarious pile. The boulders moved with a grinding screech. Pebbles rained down, followed by an earth-shattering roar. The entire mass toppled, a cascading avalanche of death.

The sickening crunch of stone on flesh filled the air, quickly drowned out by the juguais' enraged bellows. Dust swirled, obscuring the scene. The air hung dense with the metallic tang of blood. Relief curdled as the dirt settled, revealing a monstrous hand, thick and gray, emerging from the debris mound.

Ana turned to make her way to Quinn, only to stop when an object hit her. A wave of agony tore through her.

"No!" The word ripped from Ana's throat. A rock, a cruel consequence of her gamble, had found its mark, breaking her wing and ripping a gash across her arm. Crimson welled, staining her skin. Yet there was no time for self-pity. Quinn. She had to help him somehow.

Ignoring the fiery protest of her body, Ana scrambled to her feet. Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

"Quinn," she shrieked, her voice a desperate cry laced with fear. He lay crumpled beneath a bush, his face a mask of pain, a halo of blood blossoming around him. Panic surged through her, a cold tide threatening to drown her.

"Hang on, Quinn," she gasped, grabbing him by the wrist. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to fly, but with a broken wing, that dream was grounded. Ignoring the agony that lanced through her with each movement, she began dragging him toward the cave with her uninjured arm.

His moans, a lifeline tethering them together, spurred her on. "Don't give up on me. I'm here."

A rumble in the distance hastened her steps. The path seemed to stretch endlessly, each step a herculean effort. She forced herself forward through gritted teeth, fueled by a desperate need to get him to safety.

A beam of moonlight pierced through the clouds and highlighted an area ahead as if by a spotlight. As she stumbled on, objects she recognized in the grass came into view: a broken chair, an upside-down table, and wooden debris. It was her belongings from her house that had fallen through the void, just as she had not long ago. And there, amidst the wreckage, lay her phone. The screen was cracked but seemingly otherwise intact and glinting under the silver ray.

Hope surged through her. A memory flickered: Tilda mentioning the juguais' aversion to bright light. The celestial orb vanished again behind the clouds just before she stepped into its rays. She snatched the cell as the ground shuddered beneath her feet.

She spun around, her heart pounding in her chest as it constricted. Two behemoths closed the distance between them. Their eyes, black as coal, glared at her, making her blood run cold.

Precious seconds ticked by as she fumbled with the phone, her trembling fingers struggling to power it on. The cell lit up, displaying two familiar icons on the lock screen: camera and call. She launched the camera and aimed it at the approaching beasts. The flash, a desperate gamble, illuminated the clearing.

"Turn to stone, you stinky, toad-skinned monsters," she screamed, her voice hoarse with exertion. She didn't know how it worked; she just hoped it would.

The juguais screeched, recoiled, and shielded their eyes. Yet the flash didn't transform them into statues. Dread coiled around Ana's heart. One monster lunged, its putrid breath washing over her face.