Page 67 of The Ninth Element

I fumble a small vial out of the pouch—one that I filled from the potions that Zanyar offered me. One gulp, and the world is back in focus again. The cold is no longer biting that hard, and I’m not trudging anymore.

“What’s that?” Darian asks, eyeing the vial.

“A gift from an enemy,” I say, holding the vial out to him. “Want some? It will lessen your fatigue.”

He bursts out laughing in amazement. “Keep the magic juice. You need it more than I do.” But his face turns serious again. “Remember, Arien, potions are only a temporary assistance. Ultimately, rest is what sustains you.”

Soon, our footsteps become the only sound in the night. Darian breaks into whistles now and then. The effect of the potion is quickly fading, and my body screams for a break. Ignoring Darian’s disapproving look, I reach into my pouch and extract the vial again, drowning the rest of the potion.

My body is heavy, but my mind becomes clearer. I know I need sleep, but this is enough to give me strength for a little longer. Hopefully, by then, we will reach a village.

As the last crumbs of our rations disappear, my body begins to scream for sleep again. But stubbornness keeps me going. Darian, though, seems capable of running up and down the mountain—if he didn’t have me to slow him down.

As I think that dawn must be near, the sky starts to darken, and angry clouds gather, hinting at a storm brewing. Darian and I exchange a grim look but stay quiet, finding words useless in the face of our situation. This ridge is dangerously narrow enough. Add a storm, and the danger elevates to a realm of mortal threat.

Just as despair is about to permanently settle in my body, a break in the landscape presents itself before us. It’s a downward slope!

“This is a man-made path. There must be something down there,” Darian says.

Hope gives me new strength as we scramble down the steep path. It’s a welcome break from the climb up the ridge, though each step downward could easily lead to a fall.

The moon is now completely hidden behind ominous storm clouds, and the trees crowd closer together. Now, in total darkness, every snap of a twig and every rustle of a leaf makes me jump. This forest feels alive, filled with unseen dangers. With each step, the idea of a hidden village somewhere in this wilderness starts to feel less believable.

Then, like a mirage, a cottage suddenly appears before us. I glance at Darian, but he doesn’t look excited. His body is tense as if he is expecting an ambush, and he peers warily around the area.

“What’s wrong?”

“Let’s be careful,” he says, extending his hand toward me.

I take his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm spreading up my arm, and we move forward with our senses on high alert. Darian’s grip tightens as we get closer to the cottage. No lights come from the windows, just an unnatural darkness. The yard is a mess, with overgrown grass and junk scattered around. The door’s hanging open, a clear sign of a forced entry.

An uneasy feeling creeps over me. My gaze darts around, and then… I see them… two points of light burning in the shadows.

Chapter Twenty-Two

A low growl rumbles through the night. My heart almost stops beating as I stare into the two glowing eyes piercing the darkness, staring right at us. I can see the same intelligence as the hydralisk in those eyes, and the realization that it must be another altered monster makes my body shiver.

Darian, however, remains calm. He shifts to block my line of sight, his hand drifting toward the hilt of his sword. As the monster fully emerges from the shadows, its unholy form—a mix of wolf and bear—is revealed. Like a nightmare made real, it is enormous, with dagger-like teeth, and its eyes burn brightly with a feral hunger.

Before I can even blink, the beast charges, jaws snapping. Darian shoves me with a brutal, sudden push that sends me sprawling. He roars and meets the charge head-on. His sword clangs against the creature’s skull, the sound echoing sickeningly. The impact throws him back, but he holds his ground.

Bellowing its own enraged roar, the beast lashes out with a paw the size of a boulder. A choked-off cry stays trapped in my throat as it connects with Darian’s shoulder, and I freeze in terror. Somehow, Darian shakes off the pain and swings his sword again.

The monster’s hot, fetid breath carries the stench of decay, and its snarls are deafening. But Darian seems impossibly calm, each strike of his sword precise, each movement calculated. It would be beautiful, this deadly grace, if my heart wasn’t trying to pound its way out of my chest, if every fiber ofmy being wasn’t screaming at me to run.

The monster, with cunning that surpasses that of any ordinary animal, shifts its tactics. No more blind charges. It circles Darian, like a predator sizing up its prey, those intelligent eyes locked onto him with a chilling focus. Sensing the shift, Darian mirrors the movement, raising his sword. My body is almost vibrating with tension as I wait for the beast to attack again.

Without warning, the monster lunges, its jaws aiming low, snapping viciously at Darian’s legs. Darian sidesteps just in time, as his sword meets yielding flesh on the creature’s exposed flank. A raw, agonizing howl tears from the beast as it stumbles.

For a fragile, desperate instant, I feel hopeful that the worst is over…

But the monster twists sideways so suddenly that it is beyond any ordinary animal, and slams Darian back against a tree, pinning him there. A strangled cry escapes my lips as the monster pivots and aims for Darian’s head…

With the agility of a warrior at the absolute peak of his craft, Darian manages to react fast enough to ram his sword into its gaping maw, forcing its razor-sharp teeth only inches away from his face.

He tries to push the beast away, but the creature is too strong, a nightmare of brute force. I can see the strain in Darian’s arms, the tendons standing out like cords. He is trapped, and the beast’s jaw, dripping with saliva, inches closer and closer to Darian’s face.

There is no way he will win. It is over. Gods…

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