Page 13 of The Maiden and Her Monster

Peering in the water again, she watched the arms of the tree intently. Hot breath caressed her neck.

It’s wind, she told herself. But the self-consoling was fruitless.

Through the undulations, the branches began to slither from the tree.

Malka shot around, gasping. The tree loomed over her, roots ripped from the ground, upending the earth into jagged slices that stomped around like feet. The bark had torn away, crafting a rotten mouth in the cavity’s swirls.

Pain tore through her side as one of the branches whipped her, sending the torch lantern flying from her hand. She would’ve fallen from the impact, but the whip-like branch coiled around her instead, squeezing her arms against her chest.

She couldn’t breathe and heaved in panic as her feet left the ground.

“Malka!” Amnon cried out, appearing from behind the trees. He swung his sword and it caught in the animated branch holding her captive. He tugged frantically, but the metal held firm.

Malka’s vision blurred at the edges as the branch began to constrict around her body, as if she were a mouse ensnared by a snake desperate to feed. She wanted to scream, to shout at Amnon to leave, but she couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but try to stay conscious.

Aleksi and Václav galloped in on their horses, rearing as they regarded the animated tree.

They cursed, and watched as the cavity of the tree swelled, the smile on its bark widening until the hole was the length of three grown men.

Claws appeared from its depth, slick with black sap, and a creature crawled out of the opening.

The monster was nightmarish, ooze dripping from pustules across its body, hands, and legs like the warts on a tree. Its eyes, the reddish-brown of old blood, glowed in the darkness.

Malka had feared before, but it dwindled compared to the raucous thumping of her heart. She had never seen a creature so unimaginable as this, so monstrous. No doubt in her mind this was the Rayga, here to eat its next girl. Malka was already on its dinner plate, suspended in the air and helpless.

How naive she had been to think she could tame the Rayga. And she would pay for that naivety with her life.

Aleksi swung his sword, but the Rayga was faster. Its wooden hands stole the blade and flung it aside. It launched at him, knocking him from his horse, and his back hit the ground with a terrible crack.

The horse reared and bolted through the trees.

The Rayga towered over Aleksi. It clutched one of the slithering branches, which straightened like a sword in its grasp, and swung it through Aleksi’s neck, severing his head.

His face, struck with terror, drooped at an unnatural angle as his jugular veins cried out in fits of blood.

His head remained attached to his body only by the fierce grip of viscous muscle and sinew, which jutted from his neck like grisly fangs.

Aleksi’s eyes darted, and Malka watched, terrified. He was still alive.

Václav jumped from his horse, ducking to avoid a swinging branch, and kneeled close to Aleksi.

“Be with Triorzay now, my friend,” he said, crossing himself, and cut through his neck until Aleksi grew still. Stiller than Malka had ever seen him. All the light which had gleamed in his eyes as he joked, gone.

The Rayga had loosened its grip on her, distracted by Aleksi. Malka took advantage and squirmed from its hold, dropping clumsily to the ground. Sharp pain radiated up her leg and she sucked in air, ignoring the hot needles of each labored breath.

Amnon sprinted to help her, but Václav, after dodging a blow from the Rayga, halted Amnon by fisting his cloak. He hit Amnon’s skull with the hilt of his sword, sending him crumbling to the ground.

“You think you deserve to live when he is dead?” Václav asked Malka, hand pointing toward Aleksi’s lifeless body. His face was beaten and bloodied, chain mail no match for the Rayga’s sharp teeth. “It wants you, so it’ll have you. Filthy Medvadi. ”

Václav seized Malka’s injured leg and dragged her toward the Rayga.

Malka shrieked, fighting against Václav’s grip.

She kicked with all her might, her foot landing on his crotch.

Václav gasped, hands flying between his legs.

Malka used the distraction and rammed him away with her foot.

Already weakened by her kick, he stumbled, slipping on the wet rock near the water.

He fell, head sinking onto a jutting stone, catching like a fish to a spear.

Those eyes that had stared at her with such hatred only minutes before, were now empty and lifeless.

“Malka, watch out!” Amnon warned, having returned to consciousness.

Malka barely had time to look before one of the branches slammed into her, sending her tumbling into the water.

Only, the thin stream of river had yawned into something gargantuan—like the violent sea with a violent current, which hooked her inside and swallowed.

Her vision blurred as she sank, down far enough that Amnon’s screams, deafened by the water, silenced entirely. When the daze cleared, Malka began to panic. She attempted to wade to the surface, but the freezing water had stunned her muscles.

Her skin burned as if she had sunk into a boiling pot, limbs rigid and chest constricted, as the icy tendrils enveloped her. She needed to move, to swim and breathe air. But her legs were iron, and she sank, sank, sank, as darkness crept in.

Then, a sound sliced through the water. A scream, or a grunt. Malka, in her faint consciousness, wondered if she had made the sound. But the scream did not sound human. It sounded like the woods when it had howled her name.

It didn’t matter. Mavetéh had her now.

The flame necklace she wore drifted in front of her, the chain still around her neck. It glinted, and Malka wished so desperately to grab for it, and press the pendant to her lips.

A hand wrapped around her arm, but that was all she knew when everything went dark.