Page 86 of Bewitched By the Djinn
I duck under a branch. “What is the Abyssal?”
“The sea south of Aetheria.” Bennet holds back a prickly bush growing into the path for us to pass by.
Helen winds her hair up on top of her head, knotting it. “It definitely feels like Thalassara. This whole kingdom is like walking through water.”
Bennet takes position behind me. “There is a town, right outside the forest on the north edge of the border to Zehraya.Depending on how deep we are in the forest, perhaps we can make it there by nightfall. If not, we will find a place to camp.”
We lapse into silence, trudging along the path. I want to ask more questions about Aetheria, but I need to save my breath so I can keep up. I should have done more cardio with all my nonexistent free time.
The surroundings are wild and colorful. I focus on putting one foot in front of the other, and absorbing the sights of a whole new freaking world that we’re walking through. It’s unreal.
Shrubs dotting the path drip pink and purple flowers, kind of like orchids but bigger and bolder. Like orchids on steroids. Some of the trees are tall and twisted with clusters of orange-red flowers, so vivid their branches are on fire.
Strange, luminescent creatures flit between the branches, leaving soft trails of light in their wake, like lightning bugs, but different colors.
Bennet shifts his course. “We should head toward the river and follow the water north. There is a river that goes through the town. This might be it, or it might be a tributary.”
We walk. Forever. It’s beautiful. But also wet. And exhausting. The underbrush is thick in places, thorny vines and springy moss tangling around our boots.
My calves are screaming by the time we stop for a quick break on a fallen log. Helen passes out our prepacked sandwiches and we eat in silence, grateful for the calories and the stillness.
Then we keep moving.
The trees press in closer, the shadows get darker. And despite the warmth of the sun above us, a chill seeps into the air. My skin prickles.
A bone-rattling thud shakes the ground beneath my feet. Then another.
My stomach drops. “Uh, what was that?”
Bennet’s entire body goes rigid, his hand darting out to grip my wrist. “Run.”
I don’t hesitate. Helen bolts beside me, the three of us crashing through the undergrowth. The rhythmic pounding grows louder, the trees shuddering in time with it. Something huge is moving fast.
A deep bass roar rumbles through the trees. I risk a glance over my shoulder and my blood runs cold.
Giants.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Kevin had a picture book he loved when he was younger,Jack and the Beanstalk.I read it to him every night for months, the pages worn and creased by the time he outgrew it. I had it memorized. I could recite it in my sleep. The giants in the story were bumbling, slow-witted creatures who saidfe-fi-fo-fumand ate Englishmen.
These marid are not bumbling. They are massive, easily twenty feet tall, their deep blue skin almost blending into the shadows, their eyes glowing like embers in the dim light and glinting with intelligence.
One carries a weapon—a spear as long as a tree trunk—while the other simply clenches its enormous fists.
I stumble over a root, barely managing to keep my footing as Helen grabs my arm, yanking me forward.
One of the giants roars again, a sound that shakes the foliage around us. I don’t need a translation to understand the rage in it.
He’s hungry and we’re dinner.
Ahead, the trees break into a clearing. But as we sprint toward it—oh, shit. There’s no ground beyond it. The forest ends at the edge of a steep, rocky drop, a sheer cliff plunging down into a rushing river far below.
I skid to a stop, my breath coming in sharp gasps. “Umm, okay, now what?” Bennet can’t use his magic, it’s too risky. I can’t run if I’m fighting the inevitable wave of magic-induced horniness.
Hysterical laughter bubbles up in my throat.Keep it together, Cassie.
