Page 85 of Starside

I clench my jaw, remembering how quickly a similar river swept Kira away, and how rocks just like these, sticking out of the water like fangs, shredded her leg.

Surely, Raker doesn’t mean to camp here.

Without a single glance at me, he steps into the rushing current and walks straight through it, his armored form cutting across the thrashing water like a blade. He steps onto the bit of land as if it was no trouble at all. He puts his stuff down. His back is to me.

Figure it out.

Figuring it out means me making camp at the edge of the river, hoping my proximity to the water will keep me safe.

A moment later, I hear a sharp click, followed by a roaring. I turn to see Raker has made a fire. In less than a minute.

It was a skill I taught myself, before coming to the Centennial. But even in the best conditions—not next to a sputtering river—it took me several tries and over ten minutes. I watch him slip something back into his pack.

A flint rock. I scowl. Of course, a king’s guard would have one. They’re rare and expensive.

It’s not even that cold out. But as Raker stalks to the edge of the piece of land and peers into the water, I see the fire isn’t for warmth. He slides the sword from his spine. Lowers it in front of him.

With a speed that makes me jolt, he stabs it into the river.

I almost laugh that he would actually think that would work. That he would think he would be fast enough to—

That laugh dies in my throat as he turns around, and I see the large, pink-scaled fish impaled on his blade.

Well, fuck.

He expertly descales it. Cuts it. Then begins to cook it on the fire. Of course, he doesn’t offer any to me. Not that I would take it. I’ve never had fish before. Best not to test my gut when I’m not even that hungry.

My traitorous stomach grumbles at the smell anyway. I turn away from him and his roasting food, toward my bed for the night.

It doesn’t matter that it’s dirt and a few patches of grass. The moment I’m off my feet, my entire body melts into the ground. Not even the river, roaring in my ears, nor the stars glimmering brightly overhead, nor the danger lurking nearby can dull the pull to sleep. I tell myself I should stay awake, I should test this theory about the water, but it’s not long before my eyes close, and everything fades away.

I’m not even an hour into sleep when I’m jolted out of it by a slow scraping, like a claw grating across tree bark. My eyes open immediately. And the sound … it stops. As if it was never there at all.

It could have been a dream; it could have been nothing. I lay very still, listening beyond the river. Beyond Raker’s steady breathing.

Nothing. Nothing but quiet for several minutes, and my eyes slowly close again. Sleep rushes in like a hungry tide, washing over me, pulling me under.

That’s when I hear it again. And this time, there is no doubt.

I sit up, hand clenched around the hilt of my blade. Heart racing, I squint into the darkness of the forest.

Nothing. I see nothing.

But I feel … I feel the hush of the woods. The breath it holds. On shaking, tired legs, I stand. My arms ache with exhaustion as I haul my sword in front of me, the metal pierced into the ground. I wait. And wait.

Until a single foot steps out of the trees. It’s made of flayed, putrid flesh. Its smell hits me at once, and I nearly gag.

Rot. The demon smells of pure and utter death. It takes another slow step toward me, and a shard of moonlight illuminates its face.

Twisted, mangled features, skin dried into a peel. Similar to the others, but this one isn’t encased in shadow. No, I see every inch of its graying skin and waxen bone.

Its eyes are two pits of darkness, looking at me. Its mouth is scarred tissue, as if it has been sewn closed and ripped open a hundred times before. Was this demon once alive? Is that what the God of Death does? Create armies from his corpses?

Its mouth parts, breaking skin, oozing onyx blood, and emits an ear-splitting scream. Its teeth go back rows and rows.

It doesn’t waste any more time. It lunges forward, claws outstretched toward my neck.

I stumble back. Right into the river.