Page 79 of The Hurricane Wars

“Master of the Shadowforged Legion but can’t cross a pond!” Talasyn exclaimed.

Alaric scowled, spitting out a mouthful of dirt as he paddled in the direction of the bridge. “Lightweaver but can’t make a shield.”

His retort barely carried across the water, but it reached her ears well enough. She flashed him a rude gesture, palm up and thumb stretched out and index finger curling inward. He blinked, and it seemed to her that he was more surprised than outright offended.

To Alaric’s credit, though, not everyone could be as poised as he was while struggling to extricate themselves from what was more or less liquefied earth. He moved with assurance, almost as though he’dmeantto fall into the pond. Talasyn watched with one eyebrow raised as he scrambled onto what looked like an overturned tree trunk, with the clear intention of using it as a foothold to hop back to the bridge.

Except that itwasn’ta tree trunk. The moment Alaric’s full weight pressed down on it, it...stirred.

He careened into the water once again, with another mighty splash, just as the hulking visage of a swamp buffalo broke the surface. It was thrice the size of a full-grown man, red gills fluttering in grooves on the sides of its thick neck. Its tough hide was the color of charcoal and its scarlet eyes, set between enormous sickle-shaped horns, focused on Alaric with a mindless, primal fury.

Not only had its territory been invaded, but it had also been trodden on.

It let out a bellow that shook the treetops, and it charged, through the pond water, as gracefully as a fish. Talasyn spun a radiant spear and flung it with all her strength, but the swamp buffalo wove away from it with shocking swiftness before ducking beneath the arc of Alaric’s own shadow-smithed lance.

Talasyn waded into the pond to help—she wasnotabout to explain to the host of Kesathese warships waiting beyond the archipelago that she’d let their sovereign get gored to death—but the water had barely reached her ankles when Alaric’s hoarse command stopped her in her tracks.

“Stay there.”

He summoned the Shadowgate in the form of a crescent blade, which he threw toward the muddy banks. As the blade sailed through the air, its handle sprouted a chain of crackling, inky magic, the other end coiled around his gauntleted fist. The blade sank into the earth behind Talasyn and then the chain’s links began folding in on themselves and Alaric was propelled along by the decreasing length. The swamp buffalo gave chase with enraged huffs and snorts, horns lowered, as it stampeded after its prey, all the way to the shallows.

Talasyn prepared to spin another weapon, to engage the creature at close quarters, but once the shadowy blade and its midnight-black chain vanished and Alaric scrambled to his feet, he grabbed her by the wrist, and before she knew it, they were running, the swamp buffalo in hot pursuit. It crashedthrough the undergrowth, the ground trembling beneath its heavy hooves, every toss of its horned head knocking aside young trees as though they were mere kindling.

This is how I’m going to die,Talasyn thought, blood pounding in her ears, legs pumping frantically, the brown and green of the jungle blurring past the corners of her vision.In the woods. Killed by the world’s angriest cow.

Alaric had let go of her wrist, but he was keeping pace beside her. He conjured a war axe to hack at the low-hanging branches blocking their path, occasionally transmuting it into a spear to hurl at their pursuer and then replacing it with a new axe. It was a display of concentration, timing, and magical ability that Talasyn had never before witnessed, had never been capable of.

Not to be outdone, she conjured spears of her own and hurled them at the pursuing beast as well, one after the other. Light and shadow sang through the air, side by side. But the swamp buffalo was as agile on land as it was in water, and it made dodging the barrage look like an effortless task.

And just when they had been running so long and so hard that a stitch welled up her side and her thighs were on the verge of collapse and her heart was about to give out—

—the minor earthquake and the awful sounds of the dread beast’s charge came to an abrupt halt.

Talasyn dared a glance over her shoulder. In the distance, the swamp buffalo had turned around and was disappearing into the bushes, content to have chased the intruders away. Sheer relief made her knees go weak and she sagged against a tree trunk, chest heaving while sweat pooled on her skin and she sucked in one huge lungful of air after another.

Alaric braced a hand on the tree trunk next to hers. He doubled over, panting as well. Several minutes passed with the two of them wheezing and gasping beneath a canopy of leaves.

Finally—when her breathing evened out; when the faintblack dots swimming before her eyes receded—Talasyn turned to Alaric. He was plastered in mud from head to toe, not only from his unexpected dip in the pond but also from his magic dragging him bodily through its wet banks. His waterlogged hair hung limply around a frowning angular face, where the only pale complexion to be seen was in small streaks and patches. His tailored clothes with their fine fabrics were now more brown than black.

In this moment, the Night Emperor of Kesath resembled some new species of glum creature that had just emerged from a mudhole—which was more or less what had happened.

She burst out laughing.

Seeing her smile up at him for the first time was like taking a crossbow bolt to the chest. Her brown eyes crinkled at the corners and sunlight danced off the curve of her pink lips, casting her freckled cheeks in a warm glow.

The breath that Alaric had only so recently regained caught in his throat. No one had ever looked at him like this, with such joy, and when she started laughing, it was deep and vibrant, a song floating through the chambers of his soul. His ears rang with the melody, the sight of her burned into remembrance.

I would give anything,he thought,for this not to be the last time. For her to smile at me again, and laugh like the war never happened.

After a while, it sank in that she was laughingathim, and he shot her a withering glare.

This served to set Talasyn off even more. She clutched at rough bark as though for dear life, practicallyhowlingwhile Alaric flushed red underneath the mud that caked his skin.

Eventually, her laughter tapered off into mostly silent giggles, interspersed with the occasional snort. “Are youquitefinished?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“Yes.” She straightened up, wiping away tears of mirth withslim fingers. “It’s practically a Nenavarene rite of passage, to almost be murdered by a swamp buffalo.” She retrieved the map and the compass from her pockets, checking to see if they were still on the right course.

“First the dragon, then the messenger eagle that looked like it would have no compunction about disemboweling my men, and now this bovine,” Alaric grumbled. “At this point, I should just assume that all the animals in the Dominion are out to kill me.”

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