Dzar-Ghan (Alien Barbarians of Vandruk #3)

24. Chapter 24

When the sun came up the next morning, it was time to leave. Jenna fussed over my bandage again. She had washed two of them last night in the slowly shrinking lake that seemed to only come to life during a heavy downpour. They had dried overnight, and she used one of them to wrap me up, exclaiming over how fast it healed.

She offered me more pills, but my face had barely turned back to normal, and after the painful swelling from last time, I didn’t trust her pills any longer and refused.

We didn’t have much to pack. I didn’t have anything besides my clothes and weapons. I shouldered Jenna’s backpacks—the one she had cut the straps off of offered a small challenge, but Jenna figured out how to attach it to one of the others—and we began moving toward the Rodruk Mountains, where I was sure my warriors would be waiting for us by the time we finally reached them.

Just like before, it was hard keeping track of Jenna, who liked to wander off like a fascinated youngling. At some point, I had to carry her away from a spot where she had begun digging, mumbling something about natural gases . At this rate, I figured it would take us five days to get to the Rodruk Mountains. A trip that shouldn’t have taken more than two.

I couldn’t get mad at her for delaying us, though. Never had any journey been more entertaining and fun than this one. Her constant chatter kept my mind thankfully occupied, trying to decipher at least some of her words. A small smile played along my lips, and I realized that it had been a long time since I had felt almost carefree. When I watched Jenna walk about Vandruk with a natural confidence—when she wasn’t stumbling over an obstacle because she was distracted—that all but called her out as a khadahrshi. Every now and then, she would pick a rock up, wash it, and hold it up to me triumphantly as if she had unearthed the most precious gem. Her smile lit up her face, making it hard to resist kissing her. She was nothing like the khadahrshi I thought I wanted, and yet she was perfect for the role. Her enthusiasm over the smallest things was so contagious that I found myself more often than not, looking for a stupid rock that might bring that bright smile to her lips. In my mind, I didn’t even compare her to Mynarra any longer; it would have been impossible to do, but I knew with absolute certainty that she was the One for me. I was sure that had Mynarra been alive, I would have chosen Jenna as my mate a hundred times over. Mynarra had never made me feel the way Jenna did. I still loved Mynarra, just not in the all-consuming possessive way I did Jenna. Having lost Mynarra felt more now like the loss of my sisters, leaving a dull ache in my chest. I realized had the cave not collapsed, I would have never truly known what real love was—the way a mated male and female should feel about each other.

It didn’t stop me from cursing the humans for what they had done, but it made me accept what had happened and with that acceptance came healing.

We reached an outcropping of boulders that would serve as a good resting spot for the night. A quick glance at the sky confirmed that it would be getting dark soon. A small, natural cave between the boulders proved large enough for Jenna and me to sleep in, and after I removed most of the debris left by its previous owners, probably a xythrax judging by the leftover bones, pieces of furs, and a few prints, it was perfect.

I only had to take care of one more thing. I wouldn’t be able to force myself to eat another one of Jenna’s disgusting meals. I needed Vandruk nutrition. A quick hunt would give me that, but I hated the thought of leaving Jenna alone. After the last time when she scared our meal off, there was no way I would bring her along.

“I’m going hunting. Stay here,” I told her in my strictest voice, watching her lay out her science equipment.

“I stay here,” she confirmed with a wink and a quick glance in my direction.

I threw one more look at her, making sure she was already absorbed in what she was doing, mainly chipping away at a few rocks she had managed to pick up along the way, and told myself I would make this quick.

“Dzar-Ghan,” she called me back.

“Sa?”

She held out a black, brittle rock. “… find… more…ofthese?”

“I look,” I promised, taking in the stone that looked indistinguishable from others to me besides its coloring. My mind would be occupied with searching for animal tracks, but it was an easy promise to give.

It didn’t take me long to find the tail of a drycken. A male, from the looks of it. Most likely a pubescent who had been kicked out of the herd by the alpha drycken, not tolerating other males among his females.

Even luckier, I found him eating marrut leaves. Their roots would make a delicious side dish. He was young and inexperienced and never saw me coming. I thanked Vorag for our meal and prepared him, having an idea that Jenna wouldn’t be too pleased if I brought the entire drycken back and began cutting him there. His hide made for an excellent bundle to transport the meat while I buried what we wouldn’t eat. I didn’t want to attract any predators. I added marrut roots and returned to our camp. Our empty camp. By Vorag’s mercy, I should have known better than to leave Jenna unsupervised.

Hoping she might have just stepped into the bushes, I called her name. “Jenna?”

My heart sank when I didn’t receive an answer.

All her equipment was still there. I didn’t see any sign of a fight, so she must have left on her own.

I walked into a widening circle around the camp, hoping to find her tracks, and kept calling her name. With every shout, my heart became heavier inside my chest. My mind conjured up all kinds of trouble she could have gotten herself into, but when I finally heard a very small, “Here,” I found her half-buried in grasping sand, a scenario I hadn’t taken into consideration.

“Jenna!”

I leapt forward but stopped in time before my feet would have been sucked up too.

“Dzar-Ghan,” she whispered, “watch out.”

I thought she meant the grasping sand, but a low snarl proved me wrong. The sound came from right behind me, giving me just enough time to throw myself to the side and pull my sword out. A gorronga’s tail swiped agitated from side to side, cutting short narran trees and bushes with its bladed tail—one that made excellent swords and knives.

The creature wasn’t very tall; it only reached my mid-thigh, but what it lacked in height, it made up in ferociousness and agility. Its six legs made it able to run incredibly fast. Its tail allowed it to jump high into the air, aiming its four elongated fangs right at my throat. I ducked. I would have cut its belly wide open, but the beast was equipped with scales that were harder than rock. Its only vulnerable spot was its eyes and an area under its long, thick neck, protected by frills.

The eyes were also covered with frills from the top. I would have to get underneath it to either plant a dagger into one eye or stab into the spot by its throat. Whatever I chose, I knew I had to make it quick. Jenna’s chest was already all the way submerged in the grasping sand. It wouldn’t take much longer before she vanished from sight altogether. Something I would not let happen.

“Not today, you creature from Daggahr,” I cursed, diving to the side as its long tongue flipped out, going straight for my neck. With a decisive cut, I severed the organ that was longer than a male was tall—it could wrap around its victim’s throat and strangle them to death.

The gorronga howled in pain, rolling its eyes and giving me the opening I needed to bring the tip of my sword upward right into one of its sockets. The creature’s scream was cut short as its small brain was sliced in half. It still moved a few steps. Its organs hadn’t yet received the message that the brain had stopped transmitting.

I gave it a hard kick and the beast landed on its back with twitching legs, not posing a threat to me any longer.

“Jenna,” I called her, lying as close to the sand as I dared, stretching my arm out. With as little movement as she could muster, she did the same. Her bravery nearly took my breath away. The more one struggled in the grasping sand, the faster they were pulled under. Not Jenna, though. She held as still as she could. Only her eyes betrayed her horror and the pain she was experiencing. One of the khadahr trials entailed jumping into grasping sand and staying above for as long as possible. I had experienced the weight of the sand and how it seemed as if it was crushing my chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Hold on,” I yelled, picking up one of the young narran trees the gorronga had severed. This should do.

Again, I lay down, crawling as close to the edge of the grasping sand as possible without being sucked in, and extended the branch to her. She grabbed it. Barely, but her fingers clasped around it.

“Hold on tight,” I instructed, but every time I pulled on the stick, it slipped through her fingers.

“Move your legs as if you were walking,” I commanded in English.

The efforts to do as I said were written all over her face, but with every finger’s breadths she made it closer to me, she sank deeper into the sand, which was now over her chest. I worried it would squeeze her fragile throat shut if it came any higher.

Lying still flat, I edged forward; the middle of my chest was now over the sand, and I could feel its desire to pull me in. Relying on my leg and stomach muscles, I stretched impossibly farther. Our fingers brushed. “Jenna!”

“Dzar-Ghan. Don’t… comeanycloser.” She cried. I had an idea what she was telling me, but there was no way I would give up on her. I would rather share this terrible death with her than… by Vorag, this gallis had stolen her way into my mind and heart like a storm.

With a fuck it attitude, I pressed forward just a little bit more, just enough to grab hold of her small wrists, and began to pull. Leveraging all the strength from my stomach and legs, feeling the seam of my wound rip painfully but not giving it a second thought. I pulled on her, moving her toward me, fingerbreadth by fingerbreadth. First, grasping her wrists, then her lower arms and her upper arms. I scooted back and pulled and pulled. Scooting back some more, the grasping sand moaned as I freed its victim from its clutches. Greedily slurping, it tried to pull her back and reached for my chest, but that was out of the way now. My elbows sank in, and I felt the sand’s power closing around them. By then, Jenna was all the way out, and her legs kicked. With a grunt, I fully pulled her out and rolled us to the side, where we both lay still, panting heavily.