Spirit Lords

2. Zyger Paws

Atticus had visited the nearest Pit to Akentri three times before he accepted that he wasn't going to find Toril there. She must have wandered; spirits were known to do that. Right after they died, spirits awoke in a Pit, but the effects of the process left them dizzy and disoriented. It could take a spirit months to find its way home to say its goodbyes to family and friends.

The rest of the clan knew Atticus was furious and grief-stricken. They avoided the eighteen-year-old at all costs, wary of his sudden biting outbursts, or if he was feeling really malicious, terrified to duel him. The heir to the clan yearned to see his little sister, the fact that she was a spirit cast aside. Her death had changed him.

It had over a month since the spear had pierced his sister's chest. There was nothing more he wanted than to slowly murder the hand that had thrown it. Right now, however, he had to wait until Toril came home. Then he would take his vengeance.

"Focus, Atticus!" snapped his first younger sister from her place beside him behind the boulder. Somehow, Atticus couldn't bring himself to care if the zyger found him and sank its teeth into him. Zygers were fierce creatures, two times the size of the wolves the Akentri people kept as pets, with ferocious jagged teeth and claws. His only motivation to pay attention to the hunt was Brinn, his living sister—he cared if she got ripped apart.

Atticus sucked in a breath before he warily raised himself up to his knees to peer around the side of the boulder. Beyond the rocks they were using as cover, there was a valley below. A river usually ran through it, but in the dead heat of this season, the clear glass water had dried up. Stalking along the barren bed of soil was the onyx furred creature.

Presently, especially from this distance, the zyger seemed harmless. However, the carnage it had been wrecking bespoke its true nature. For weeks now, it had been attacking the livestock of nearby clans. Just four days ago, it arrived in Akentri territory and had begun its feasting in the silent hours of the night, evading human interference for much too long. The last straw had been when it attacked a ten-year-old shepherd boy, who miraculously lived through it, but had lost an arm and part of his face as payment.

"Okay, so here's the plan," Atticus began, studying the creature. He glanced to the boulder adjacent to their own where Haine and Ismerie were staking out. "Are you two listening? Good. I need you two flanking the zyger. You're going to distract it long enough for Brinn and me to attack from the other side and kill it. Quickly enough it doesn't have time to retaliate, I hope. We're going to use the rocks that are scattered as cover. Whatever you do, don't let it see you."

The plan sounded simple enough. The reality, Atticus soon discovered, was different. The twins had begun their descent down the slope, using the boulders as cover as they were told, but Haine was awfully accident-prone for an Akentri warrior.

The lanky young man tripped and rolled several feet down the slope. The zyger froze, enormous ears perked as it studied Haine, listening. It began to stalk towards Haine once it decided what action it should take, powerful muscles rolling as it neared. 

"Atticus!" Brinn cried.

"I know," he replied through gritted teeth. "We're just going to have to trust Ismerie to fend it off for a little bit." He blessed the stars that she was much more capable than her brother. Ismerie was already stealthily making her way down the slope, closer to her brother than the zyger was.

Atticus led his sister down the steep slope, eyes fixed upon the zyger. Ismerie had reached Haine, who must have been wounded in the fall. He hadn't risen, even when Ismerie frantically shook him. Soon, the zyger had reached the two, circling with bared teeth. Ismerie faced it bravely, sword gripped and posed to strike.