The little boy just stared at me.
“Olun!”
His father came running from the farmhouse. He crouched before the little boy.
“Don’t you ever run from me!” he said. “Do you understand? Never!”
But he couldn’t stay mad at the cute little boy for long. He embraced him. Then he stood up to lead him away.
“Wait!” I said. “Please. My friend. He’s going to die unless I get him on the back of this… arjath.”
I still struggled with the foreign name of this beast.
The farmer considered helping. He shook his head and turned to leave.
“Please!” I said. “I’m begging you. He’s the only friend I have. If I don’t save him, we’re both dead.”
The farmer appraised us with his yellow eyes and looked over at the horned creature still struggling to his feet.
“Poppa…” Olun said. “We have to help them.”
Again, the farmer looked concerned. No doubt he would be taking a big risk by helping us. Not only with Iron Hoof nearby but the Changelings in charge of this TV show. They would be watching us.
“Get to the house,” he said to his son. “Now.”
As Olun took off, the farmer bent down to help me lift Chax onto the back of the arjath. Then he got some rope from the barn and lashed him to it.
“I’ll get the arjath back to you,” I said. “I promise.”
“No, you won’t,” the farmer said. “We won’t be here when you return.”
“Where will you go?” I said.
He lowered his voice.
“I must join the resistance,” he said. “I thought I could survive outside, even with the Changelings and their cruel games. But now I see it is impossible. I’ve rebuilt many times already. I can’t bring myself to do it again. I wish you well but I can help you no more.”
He turned and ran back to the farmhouse.
“Grrrr!” Iron Hoof growled as he forced himself up onto his hooved feet.
He wiped a hairy arm across his brow to dispel the sweat. His leg wobbled and threatened to give way beneath him again.
“You’re going to pay for that, little girl,” he said.
“You’ll have to catch me first,” I said, finding a thin tendril of confidence buried deep inside.
“Oh, I intend to,” Iron Hoof said.
He dug in his pocket for something and came out with a syringe. He removed the casing and jabbed it in his injured leg. His back arched and he let out a howl of intense pain. Then he straightened up. Although he still walked with a limp, he no longer appeared to feel the pain.
He clutched the war hammer in both hands, snorted at me, and then pawed at the ground with his uninjured leg.
My eyes widened with fear.
I knew what his pawing at the ground meant.
He was going to charge.
He would destroy everything in his path and I had no intention of being there when he did.
I hopped on the back of the arjath and prayed it was faster than it looked.
Chax grumbled under his breath beneath me. He was burning up and running a fever. Sweat broke across his entire body. It didn’t look good.
But it would look a whole lot worse if I couldn’t get us away from there.
The arjath struggled under our combined weight. I considered hopping off and leading by the harness but I already knew I couldn’t outrun this horned beast.
I held on and snapped the reins.
The arjath made a disgruntled “Meh!” noise and bolted forward.
The ground shook as Iron Hoof built up momentum. His haste was interrupted only by his limping leg.
The arjath, scared by the creature hot on our heels, ran a little faster. He leaned forward to counteract the extra weight he was carrying.
In the farmhouse window, the little green boy waved.
I focused on the path ahead and prayed the arjath wouldn’t trip or collapse out of exhaustion. Either one would spell death for the both of us.
I glanced back as Iron Hoof roared and tore through a flimsy fence. His limping leg didn’t pull up high enough and snagged on a piece of wood. He tripped and fell. He was up a moment later but he’d already lost his momentum.
Don’t stop now, little arjath, keep on going, I prayed. Just until we get far enough from the creature so he can’t see us.
I peered at Chax beneath me, rocking violently side to side and curled up in the arjath’s thick fur.
Sleep, my love. Sleep. Rest is coming.
But not for me.
I gritted my teeth against my sudden exhaustion and pushed through it.
We would live to fight another day.
Another day.
I only hoped it would be better than the last one.
Once we crossed the horizon and Iron Hoof was no longer in sight, I knew I should have slowed the arjath down. But then I began to fear the horned creature might try to sneak up behind us.
To be on the safe side, I decided to keep the creature running—until we got a little further ahead. Around the next bend, I thought. But the monsters could easily cut through the forest and come lurching out from the shadows.
We needed to keep moving.
Eventually, the arjath was what told me to slow down. Its breath rasped hoarsely in its throat and it struggled to put one foot in front of the other.
The poor thing was shot.
I let the creature trot slowly along the road. It seemed happier that way and moved at a lumbering pace.
Worse than that, Chax needed proper rest to recover. Bouncing around in an uncomfortable saddle wasn’t going to help with that.
He was still unconscious but the fever had broken. It was only when we slowed that I noticed his blood seeping from his shoulder. It stained the arjath’s matted fur and made it sticky. I checked the wound and found a large shard of wood embedded in his back.
I thought about pulling it out but knew he could easily bleed to death if I didn’t have the right equipment to hand. Riding on the arjath this way was only serving to push the shard of
