“Take my shield and watch my back.”
He unhooks it and holds it out. Good. At least the prince isn’t too frightened to be useful.
I inch forward, hacking and slashing my way through the foliage while attuning my keen hearing to the sounds of the forest. My mother wasn’t good for much, but her addiction to illegal magic did give me the heightened senses that make me an excellent hunter.
I can hear Alistair’s heart battering his ribs like a trapped animal. Each twitch of a leaf and paw padding as the thing that stalks us draws nearer.
Alistair’s stomach gurgles.
“You’re not going to shit your pants, are you?” I swing the axe through a vine as thick as my wrist.
“I’m hungry, you idiot. Breakfast was hours ago.”
“Must be nice to be accustomed to regular meals.”
“I feed you,” he retorts.
“When you aren’t sending me out on pointless missions.”
“Don’t be such an ingrate, Kill.”
I want him mad. I grunt in response, which infuriates him further.
“I’m the one who pulled you out of the gutter,” he grumbles.
“After I saved your worthless hide,” I counter, biting back a rare smile. No one else talks to Alistair this way. Insulting him is my special privilege, as long as I only do it in private.
Spite has always been his biggest motivator. We have that in common.
The thing stalking us goes quiet.
“Try burning them.”
“What?” I pause, swiping my forearm across my forehead. Although there’s little sunlight, the air is humid and I’ve been exerting myself all morning.
“The vines. Burn them. It might prevent them from growing back.”
“Trying to preserve an avenue of escape, Highness?”
Alistair’s cunning problem-solving is one reason why we’ve become something akin to friends. I’m teasing him, yet this isn’t the first time he’s come through in a tight spot. When push comes to shove, he comes through. Usually.
A motion in the periphery of my vision kicks my instincts into kill mode. Alistair’s yelp almost bursts my eardrums as I pivot, raising the axe.
The beast pounces. Alistair twists and falls, bringing the shield up and tucking as much of his body as will fit beneath it. The tail-lashing chimera leaps, pinning him to the ground, its claws scraping against the impenetrable dragon scale. Yellow-green eyes meet mine a split second before my weapon severs its head from its body. Blood spurts across Prince Alistair’s cheek.
“That thing nearly killed me,” he gasps once he’s lurched to his feet, clutching the shield. His blue velvet jacket is covered with dirt. Twigs tangle in the gold braid. He casts me a narrow glare and says, “You used me as bait.”
“Get down.”
I shove him aside as the second chimera, a half-wildcat, half-lizard, attacks from the side. I was expecting this one, but not the third that leaps at Alistair.
“Kill it!” he shouts, barely holding it at bay.
“I’m busy at the moment,” I grit out. The one that pounced on me is the biggest, and the heaviest, a blow hard enough to knock the wind out of me. Claws scrape over the dragon-scalearmor protecting my chest. I manage to wedge the head of the axe into its sternum, barely holding its snapping jaws away from my face. The thing’s back claws catch my boot, pinning one leg to the ground. I can’t get enough leverage to push it off. The quiver clipped to my hip digs painfully into my flesh through the flexible but impenetrable armor.
I flick the clasp on the sheath at my thigh and bring a short, thick dagger straight up into the creature’s belly. Hot, foul-smelling innards spill down on me. Its teeth snap inches from my face, but I feel it weakening. The chimera staggers to the edge of the thorns, dragging its guts in long strings as it tries to crawl away.
Rolling upright, I find Alistair dispatching the third chimera. Breathing hard, he passes me the dragon-scale shield.
