Spindle (A Thousand Nights #2)

“Arwa.” Saoud said it in his father’s voice, and I knew that Arwa would listen to him, even if she didn’t like the words he said. “Climb a tree.”

It wouldn’t defend her against a bear forever, but it was the best thing I could think of too, so I only nodded when he said it. Arwa bit her lip, clearly upset at the idea of leaving us behind, but cast about for the best option and then disappeared above our heads without a single word of protest.

“Tariq, stay out of its reach. Bear skulls are hard, but they’ve got eyes and a maw like any creature. Do you think you can hit either?”

Tariq looked at the knives in his hand. He had some practice at throwing them, but never at anything more mobile than a bale of hay. Still, he met Saoud’s gaze and swallowed hard.

“Try to keep it still, if you can.” He didn’t say it like he had very much hope in the matter.

“Yashaa, keep to Tariq’s side,” Saoud said. “I will circle behind it.”

“Is that the best idea?” I asked.

“It has kidneys, same as a man does.” Again, I couldn’t think of a better idea.

At last, there was a noise from the woods around us. Not a broken stick or a stumble, for bears have too much woodcraft for that, but rather a rustle in the leaves that was not from the rain. We turned toward it just as the bear came out of the underbrush and saw us.

It wasn’t a large one, which was good news for us. Without a bow, we would have been hard-pressed to put down a full-sized male. This one was black, and when it stood to roar at us as it entered the glade, it was no taller than Saoud’s father. But it was very wide; its arms stretched out far enough to grasp all three of us at once—to crush us without ever having to bloody its teeth or claws. It dropped back on its paws to come toward us, and I saw its face for the first time. I had never seen a live bear before, but I knew that something about it was wrong. Its eyes…its eyes were wrong.

“Yashaa!” shouted Saoud, and I refocused on my task.

“Move, then!” I replied, but he already was.

Crouched low, and legs spread wide, he circled the bear as it paced toward us. Beside me, Tariq was shaking so hard I thought he might drop his knives. He had seen the beast’s eyes too, and I knew that he remembered, as I did, stories of a faraway garden littered with statues that were impossible to look at without feeling a twist in your soul; statues carved because a demon had wished it done. It was bad enough to face a bear, but a bear with a demon inside of it was even more terrifying.

The bear roared again, and this time I thought I heard another’s voice on top of the beast’s. Another bear might have passed us by—surely there was better prey in these woods—but the demon in this bear hungered for our blood in particular and would have it, if it could.

Saoud was all the way around now, waiting for us to get the bear’s full attention, but it was holding back. I knew the demon was working against us, using its own intelligence to keep the bear from its full ferocity, even as it planned to bring that same force down on us as soon as it could. We needed something to bring the bear out, to make the demon lose control.

And, from above, Arwa saw it too, and saved us. She had nothing to hand but whatever pinecones she could grasp from the branch on which she stood, and that is what she used. Her aim was true, pelting the bear around the ears and muzzle until, pushed to animal rage, it charged the ground where Tariq and I were standing.

To his credit, Tariq didn’t hesitate at all. The first knife left his hand before the bear had taken two steps, and it hit the creature’s shoulder. It was already roaring, so I couldn’t tell if it felt any pain at all, but Tariq’s second knife took one of those terrible eyes—and that, we could see, the bear felt. It reared, pain and confusion in its voice; the demon pressed it forward, when all it wanted was to retreat. Then Saoud was behind it. He was as strong as anyone I knew, and it still took both hands on the hilt of his knife to pierce the bear’s hide. He went low and left of the spine, hoping to strike something important there, and he must have hit a vital target, because the bear—no, the demon—screamed as the iron pierced it.

Before the creature could turn on him, I stepped between those flailing front legs and drove my knife into the bear’s other eye. My blade was longer than Tariq’s, long enough to reach the beast’s brain, and that was its end. It caught me with a paw as it fell, and I staggered back as blood filled my eyes; but it did not rise, or even move, when it hit the ground.

I sat there, in the bloodied glade, while Arwa used one of her spare veils to bind my head and Tariq retrieved and cleaned our knives. When I could see again, I looked for Saoud, who cradled his knife in his lap. We had taken down a bear with a demon on its back, and it hadn’t been the end of us to do it. The mountains seemed just a little bit smaller against the expanse of the sky.



previous 1.. 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 ..88 next

E.K. Johnston's books