Page 130 of Starside

Beautiful. Before I can get a closer look, the horse takes off again, making a circle. I watch it go—then still, when it runs right toward me again. This time, it doesn’t stop. Shit. I’m about to leap out of the way when the horse careens off the ground, flying above me, jumping over the stream. Landing.

Then becoming another curl of mist. It doesn’t appear again.

I didn’t read about those in the book. Both wonder and dread fill me as I consider that there are even more creatures out there, unreported or undiscovered.

Knowing Raker is probably sighing deeply and regretting ever giving me a shard of his soap, I go back to the stream. I twist my clothing, squeezing out any remaining water before putting them back on. I don’t have time to let them sit and dry more. I really should see about getting more clothes, I think, as I step through the forest, looking for Raker. I doubt he went far.

In the direction he headed in, shrubs brush against the base of the Skyquills, their leaves coarse and pointed in various places. A sweetness pierces the air. It’s hard to see anything buried in the thick, knotted green, but I carefully piece through the leaves, until I catch a flash of color. My eyes widen.

Huckleberries. Elderberries. I pick several, my fingertips staining violet, stick one in my mouth, and sigh deeply.

Yes. The fruit on Stormside—so limited and rare—is like ash compared to Starside. Everything here is heightened—the landscapes, the flavors, the colors—as if magic has touched everything.

I sink to my knees, and pick them all, eating a large fraction. The rest I stick into my wet pockets. I consider calling Raker over, to fill his pack with them.

I’m so happy, I hardly notice that a shadow has stolen all the light from the forest. And that the already quiet woods have gone deathly silent.

Until a sticky glop of something hits my shoulder and slides down my freshly washed clothes. I scrunch my nose. Sap?

I look up at the tree.

And stop breathing.

A bear larger than the trees themselves is on its haunches, looking down at me, fang-full mouth parted, drool dripping. Another stream falls directly on me, sliding down my entire body, but still, I don’t move.

Until it throws its head back and roars, rattling the very foundations of the forest, sending me to the ground. Trembling hands clutching dirt, I watch its maw remain open. And from its mouth, a silver, glimmering stream of pure and utter power pierces the sky like a blade.

Magic. It has magic.

I scramble to my feet, and I fucking bolt.

This wasn’t in the book. But if this creature is anything like the bears on Stormside, it’ll have poor vision. It’ll rely on hearing and smell. Its drool will mask my scent, won’t it? And as for its eyesight, it won’t be able to spot me easily through the trees … That’s what I tell myself as I run for my life, heart in my throat, sweat spilling down my skin.

Then I hear those ancient, steady trees snap like they are no more than twigs, and any hope of surviving this beast turns to dust. I look over my shoulder, and the bear is on all fours, bounding through the woods with singular focus, cutting down everything in its path. Long needles erupt from its back, sharp as spears.

Fuck.

If this bear doesn’t kill me, Raker certainly will. At the very least, he is never letting me use his soap again.

Why does trouble always find me? I was picking berries. Why couldn’t it have happened to Raker instead?

The beast lunges—falling just short of me with such force the woods shudder. I scream as I’m hurled forward. From my knees, I watch as the bear opens its mouth again with a sickening snarl … and I know what that means.

I throw myself to the ground as another beam of silver light shoots out, pulsing with power, slicing through the forest like a scythe, cutting everything around us down. Those great trees fall. They fall and fall, snapping with ear-splitting cracks.

I see a chance for cover, and I run, heart in my throat, as all these glorious trees come down around me.

One crashes at my side, nearly taking me with it. Another blocks my path. I scramble over it and keep going. They keep falling. They’re so large that some fall together, leaning, creating cages, and I run as fast as I can, knowing all it would take is one—one to fall on me and turn me into no more than a pool of blood in these ancient woods.

The bear does not stop. It crushes and splits these fallen trees as it hunts me, as the forest continues to break apart, and I run. I run toward a shard of light beyond the fallen trees, a clearing, a hole in the weave of this forest, and I launch myself through it.

Suddenly, he’s there. Stepping out of the trees and into my path, on the other side of the woods.

Raker seems to sigh with his entire body when he sees me bellowing at the top of my lungs, clothes still wet, trees falling behind me, a massive bear at my heels. Sometime in the half hour I was bathing, he seems to have found time to clean himself, because his hood isn’t covered in dried blood anymore. Neither is his armor.

The ground lurches. I can feel the beast’s breath on my head. The trees I just ducked beneath now shatter into a thousand splinters. Some hit my back, piercing my flesh like throwing stars, and I gasp at the pain, but I keep going, right toward Raker.

He does not turn and run. He stands his ground. Pulls his sword from his back in a flash, as if he is going to cut right through the towering beast.