Page 2

Chapter

Two

T he trip by boat across the sea was an exercise in misery but it was nothing compared to the endless heat and sand when it came to traveling across the Sanna. Abby’s stomach lurched with every sway of her mount. She’d already privately wretched a multitude of times between embarking on the boat and their strike across the desert, but if Zayman Bibal had taken any notice of it, he had refrained from remarking upon it so long as she kept her complaints to herself.

Not that it improved her situation any. After seeing her supplied and seated uneasily on a bindwik feathered camel, she was sent off into the desert on her own with nothing more than a guide to help her get to her destination and abandon her forthwith. And that was exactly how she came to be standing outside a massive cave, with sand uncomfortably accumulating in places she didn’t even want to think about, as she considered her next step.

The trouble was that she had been left to hunt a manticore completely alone, and such a creature was not any ordinary beast or monster. Creatures of ancient desert fire, apparently manticores were terrifying man-eaters with the body of lion, the face and cunning of a man with which it lured human prey, and a scorpion’s sting which it would discharge at its prey in a foot long barb. And even if one managed to evade the first barb, it quickly grew another in its place. If she had known from the outset that was what sort of monster she was being sent out for—alone, she might add—she would have told him exactly what he could have done with his king’s offer.

She almost felt bad for Zayman that the task of informing her had been left to him except that he had purposefully waited to do so until after he had gathered the camels and was preparing to leave her there. Her choice had been clear without it even needing to be said—do the task for which she had been paid or find her way across the desert alone. He hadn’t said as much but the casual way he reassured her that he would return for her once she lit the flare and had the evidence of her kill prepared and displayed from a visible distance told her all that she needed to know.

Rat bastard. May the gods prepare a special place where the vermin of the underworld could feed upon his bowels.

Abby eyed the cave speculatively from where she crouched behind one of the jagged rocks near the mouth of the cave. Normally she would be making a rush for it, eager to get out of the blistering sun, but the murderous predator dwelling in it sort of put a snag in her plan. Even with a simple light spell, the monster would have the advantage of tight quarters and better eyesight. Unfortunately, she wasn’t any safer outside either if they were on equal ground. This wasn’t just some beast, which would be dangerous enough out in the open, but an intelligent and cunning predator. Which meant that she was putting herself within eating distance regardless. She also had to consider that, with evening quickly approaching, the manticore would emerge soon. At least her guide had been useful enough to inform her of the creature’s hunting habits before dumping her with nothing but her supplies, a farewell, and a reassurance that he would return in a few days to collect her if she was still alive.

She pursed her lips as she rolled the weight of her javelin in her hand. When it came down to it, she had to decide whether she wanted to be on the menu trapped underground, or outside where she had a lot more maneuvering room. She snorted softly to herself and jabbed her javelin into the sand. That was obvious. While she could use the cave to her advantage as well, it was infinitely in her favor to wait outside the cave and attack it from a stronger position when it emerged. But then again it would just be very bad for her if the manticore managed to actually get outside where it also had more room to attack.

Glancing up at the glaring sun, she estimated that she had a few hours at best. According to said guide, the creature emerged in the early hours of the evening and could be seen prowling in the desert at any time until near midday. She would have to make camp close to the mouth of the cave and remain on watch so that she would be able to quickly strike. She would get only one shot. When he emerged, he would be aware of her presence long before he even came out of the cave and on the attack.

She scratched her ear and blew several strands of dark, curly hair out of her face as she squinted at the entrance. On the other hand, when it came right down to it, there really wasn’t much to lose by simply just going in. She might even be lucky enough to catch the creature off-guard and asleep.

Decided, she yanked her javelin free and thumped the butt of it on the sand as she stood. Drawing her cloak around her she edged her way toward the mouth of the cave. She paused for only a moment as she listened for any signs of the creature before taking her first cautious step inside the dark interior. Her breath immediately escaped her in a sharp exhalation as the sudden bite of cool air coming from the cavern’s depths. It was startling but a relief after being out in the blistering sun all day.

Drawing a brass scarab from her pocket, she whispered the spell of the rising light that had been one of the first spells she’d learned in her youth. The brass insect began to glow with just enough light that she could see the walls of the cave and the downward sloping floor. The light didn’t penetrate far but it was serviceable for a hunter. Smiling grimly, she descended into the cavern, noting the way the walls grew narrower with her every step. At some points she had to stop and shimmy sideways through passages or drop to slide along her belly on the cold, damp, stone floor. She didn’t have to go far before she began to encounter the stalagmites and stalactites that began to dot some of the larger caverns the system opened into.

Abby paused as the channel opened to a new cavern that contained a large, green pool of water that extended from the banks ahead of her. Stalagmites jutted like dozens of teeth from the cold water, the moisture on them shimmering in the light of her spell. Abby pursed her lips as she inwardly whistled in appreciation. The cave system was far deeper and more impressive than she initially thought it to be.

Stepping to the edge of the pool, she glanced down and noted the steep and abrupt drop of the cavern floor beneath its clear surface. Wading across definitely wasn’t an option. That left the stalagmites. She squinted across the surface of the water at them. They were strange in that their peaks were not tapered but worn into a smooth, flat surface. Each was wide enough that they appeared to form an odd bridge with their wide flared edges just above the water that disappeared in the darkness. Each stalagmite edge seemed to be wide enough to easily hold a person… or a monster. Gods, she hated trusting the unknown.

Whispering a levitation command to the brass scarab, she opened her hand as it sprouted shimmering wings and fluttered roughly a foot away from her. It was a shame that she didn’t have any equally convenient way to deal with her javelin. Shedding her cloak, she ignored the way her skin prickled at the sudden shock of direct exposure to the cold air and slid her javelin home into the leather slots attached to the harness. The temperature and humidity within the cavern were miserable but the cloak was a small sacrifice to keep her weapon at hand while keeping her hands free as she carried it across the water.

She gave an experimental bounce and was satisfied that, though her tits jiggled far too much for her liking, her javelin remained secured. With a nod of satisfaction, she tightened the bracers around her gloves as she stepped toward the nearest stalagmite. It was close enough to the embankment that she was able to hop onto easily. The progressing stalagmites proved to be a little more difficult. She was forced to take leaps, often fueled with the forward momentum of her previous jump to clear the distance between some of the larger and more imposing stones. Sweat quickly began to slick her skin and gathered in the most inconvenient places as she made her way across. It was finally with one last perilous leap to an embankment heavily shrouded with darkness that her feet landed on the firm cavern floor once more, sending tiny stones scattering.

Brushing back the dark coil of hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her face, she didn’t hesitate to strike off immediately for the yawning darkness ahead. The scarab zipped in front of her as she walked, always keeping within a couple feet radius as she made her way down the long, dark tunnel to whatever lay within. In contrast to the coolness of the rest of the cave, she began to become aware of a noticeable heat emanating from below and her heart sped up in reaction to it.

“And there in the darkness, Abby Sinclair steps into the mouth of the beast’s den. The monstrous manticore awaits in the unnatural heat fueled by the flames of its infernal breath,” she whispered. “A creature of such appetite that it has been the ruin of towns; and it might be the ruin of our heroine, our monster hunter, yet.”

A snort echoed up the tunnel and for a moment she froze, her eyes widening. The scarab hovered, however, seemingly undisturbed. Abby frowned and pulled her javelin free as the shadows seemed to move and retreat further inside. Keeping her breathing light, she remained frozen in place for several minutes as she listened for any signs of movement… or anything at all. When no other sounds immediately came, she started forward again, albeit at a more cautious pace as she delved deeper.

The further she went the more, ever following the elusive shadows in an effort to claim her victory, the more the cavern heated until it possessed a balminess that was equal to the night air outside the cave system but minus the threat of the sun’s boiling intensity during the day once it rose into the sky. It was no wonder that the manticore preferred to sleep away the days down there and hunt at night. But where was it? She had been so certain that it was nearly within her grasp. Her brow furrowed… was that light up ahead? She squinted, blinded by the unexpected brightness of the illumination.

She knew that it was part of the creature’s trap and yet she still was prepared for the growl that trembled in the air. It was far too close when it came, and she was nearly a hair too slow bringing her javelin up in front of her when the creature burst from out of nowhere. Planting her feet, Abby instinctively thrust upward but found herself knocked back off her feet for her effort as her javelin was shoved back at her with surprising force. With a shout of alarm she rolled, barely evading the swiping claws extending from something that was as much a hand as it was a paw. They scored the rock with a loud shriek, and she rolled back, slamming the wooden length of her weapon into the creature’s head.

A curse split the air that gave her a momentary pause, but it was followed by a monstrous bellow that made her blood run cold. Readjusting her grip, she stabbed blindly as the scarab flittered too erratically for her to see as the magic’s attempted to follow her movements. A heavy masculine grunt echoed through the cave as claws scraped across the floor as her javelin’s lethal tip was neatly evaded.

“Fuck me,” she hissed beneath her breath as she attempted to push herself up from her ass only to find her knocked back again when her javelin was wrenched brutally from her hands.

Her breath exploded from her as her back hit the rocks, followed by the thump of her head cracking against the ground, but that was nowhere near as painful as hearing the splintering shatter of wood echoing around her. Her javelin was gone.

Hot breath scored her skin as the weight of the creature prowled over her prone form. She blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear her vision. Deep golden fur and a roughly carved feline face and maned in crimson rose above her. Green eyes, the dark pupils of which contracted into thin, slitted diamonds, stared down at her. The manticore. His mouth opened wide, revealing sharp teeth and fangs and just behind him she could see the shadow of his enormous scorpion’s tail rising for the killing strike.

What remained of her breath shuddered out of her and she dragged in a quick, painful gasp of air as she wrenched a dagger free from her harness and pressed it against the thick neck that bulged beneath the heavy mane that fell over her arm. There was a pause and the creature’s green eyes blinked slowly, its fangs just inches from her face. A thread of saliva dripped from its mouth onto her cheek, and she grimaced.

“Disgusting,” she muttered to herself. The eyes narrowed further in insult, and she smirked at it. “Understood that didn’t you? Well, perhaps you understand this, you bite down, and I will ram my blade into your damned throat.”

Its breath fanned her in a growl. “Attempt to slit my throat and I will not hesitate to bite off that pretty face.”

It… talked? She attempted to shake the revelation off. After all there were many monsters that spoke and had a clear sentient language that they were still hired to deal with. Raiding orcs and trolls, minotaurs that attacked towns, centaurs… talking did not make an exception but sentience was always something that was carefully weighed and the cause of the attacks thoroughly researched.

“Look you… you. If you dare bite my face… the moment those teeth come down my dagger goes up.”

The creature’s brow furrowed and, as her vision cleared, she became aware of the fact that the leonine face bore distinct human characteristics. In fact, it seemed slightly more human than feline with only the slight exaggeration of the lion around the rise of the muzzle around the lips, the mane, and the conical ears that peaked out from it. The mane itself almost seemed absurdly styled in ringlets. Its lips closed over its teeth as it regarded her, and its nostrils flared in its broad almost humanoid nose. The corner of the mouth quirked faintly.

“Strange thing,” it muttered. “It seems we are at an impasse.”

“Only for the moment,” she countered. “I’m bred for the hunt. I can be patient.”

Its gravelly chuckle filled the cave, startling her. “As am I, little one. But I can outlast a tiny human…” it breathed in again, “female.” There was a slight note of wonder in its voice and its head lowered closer to blink down at her with its luminous green eyes and its nostrils flared again as if drawing in her scent. “Very masculine in trade and garb but definitely female. How curious.”

“Nothing curious about it,” she bit out, infuriated once more that her gender had anything to do with it. “A woman can kill you just as well as a man,” she pointed out hotly.

Another chuckle filled the cavern, this time with considerably more warmth and interest even though the creature did not give her even an inch more space. She felt something brush her leg in a lazy tap that reminded her of cat’s tail, and she froze, her eyes widening as she recalled just what sort of tail the manticore was equipped with.

“Only a man blessed by the gods would be successful in killing me,” he purred. “Perhaps a female might fare better, but it would be sad to find out and lose such delicious company when it has been so very long since I’ve laid eyes on a female’s rounded cheek.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at his wording. “What do you suggest then?”

“Tea,” he rumbled, rising from her abruptly. “Or coffee you prefer. I have plenty of both. The caravans that come close to my cave keep me well stocked.”

Abby blinked, her gaze following the manticore as he prowled from her on all fours before rising onto his hind legs like a man. It was then that she noticed that his build was very much like a man though his chest was broader and structured a bit different and his shoulders less defined and set further back, but he walked with ease without a glance back at her as if confident that she would either follow or that he could deal a killing blow if she dared attack.

So, what was she to do? Go back? If that was even an option, she would have already set across the desert hours ago. There was no chance of Zayman making a return for her so soon. And she had a suspicion that the manticore wasn’t just going to let her flee.

“Are you coming or do I need to fetch you myself?” he called back, affirming her suspicion.

Gritting her teeth, Abby pushed up to her feet. She absolutely hated being at a disadvantage.