Meg toed the wooden box in the wagon bed open and reached inside to grab two bundles of katak sticks. She hooked her fingers in the binding around one and tossed the other to Tzaitel, who stood in the grass beside the weapon.

“I guess we’ll get our sparring session in today after all.” Meg jumped off the back of the wagon and slipped the katak sticks out of the twine that bound them.

“Indeed.” Tzaitel tucked her sticks under her arm as she tied back her long black hair.

Velanna had gone ahead and stood at the edge of the village center, watching the horrifying creature as it did battle with the Josharons.

Once Tzaitel had her hair back, she fastened her headscarf on a metal ring on the wagon, and she pulled the sticks out. Meg tightened her grip on them and followed her sister to where Velanna stood, taking her place on Velanna’s left side.

Jim had run to the red-headed woman and embraced her. His sister, Meg assumed. Jenny was there to assist with any injuries, so neither of them were in immediate danger.

But the monster?

Meg narrowed her eyes. “What is it?” 

Velanna’s headscarf fluttered around her face. She didn’t respond, her jawline tense and eyes tight at the corners.

“Other than ugly,” Meg muttered under her breath.

“It is most certainly that.” Tzaitel smirked at her.

“Focus, both of you.” Velanna crossed her arms. “Tzaitel, analysis.”

“Carnivorous hexopod.” Tzaitel twirled one stick. “Amphibious, perhaps, judging by the visible mucus on its skin. Apex predator, most likely.” Tzaitel watched the creature for a beat. “Blind. Indicates senses based on olfactory and auditory detection.”

“Well done.” Velanna nodded. “Margaret, analysis.”

Meg cast a glance around the village. Most of the huts had been demolished. The dirt was littered with arrows and spears, but the creature bore no visible injury.

“It looks amphibious,” Meg said, “but its skin is thick.” She pointed to the broken, discarded weapons at their feet. “Too thick to pierce.”

The monster teetered sideways when a Josharon struck it with a long staff. The monster didn’t fall and batted the Josharon away with ease.

“It has too many joints in its legs,” Meg said. “That’s its weak spot. Aim for its legs, incapacitate it, stay out of the reach of its spikes. Plus, if it’s amphibious like Tzaitel thinks, it won’t be used to fighting on dry ground.”

“Well done, Margaret.” Velanna flashed a half smile. “Suggested strategy?”

Meg tossed one of her katak in the air and caught it. “Let’s poke it with a stick.”

Tzaitel echoed her smirk. “Aggressively.”

Velanna shook her head, smile still in place. “Be cautious and wary, my daughters. Supposition does not equal reality. Watch yourselves and each other.”

“Yes, Mother,” Tzaitel said as she stepped forward.

“Yes, Mother.” Meg stayed at Tzaitel’s side, approaching the creature together.

Behind them, Velanna whistled shrilly and shouted in the Josharon language, calling for a retreat. The Josharons all immediately withdrew, scrambling to get out of the way as Meg and Tzaitel came to stand before the creature.

On its hind legs it stood maybe seven feet tall, but the bulk of its muscles made it seem larger. It shifted sideways, tilting its triangular head nearly upside down as it sniffed noisily. It opened its tooth-filled mouth and flicked out a tongue dripping with saliva.

Inside its mouth, lodged near the back, Meg spotted an arrow wedged in its jaw, nearly in its throat.

Someone got a lucky shot in. Meg gripped the hilt of her katak stick.

Tzaitel raised an eyebrow at her.

Good, she’d seen it too.

If they couldn’t pierce the outside skin, maybe the inside was the way to go.

The creature shifted closer to them, carrying with it the scent of decay and rust and poisoned dirt. Meg swallowed the urge to gag.

She shook herself and checked over her shoulder. Jim and Jenny were helping the redhead get to safety with the Josharons. At least they would be out of the immediate danger zone, because once she and Tzaitel starting striking, the beast wasn’t going to be happy.

I only hope we can knock it down fast enough to keep it down for good.

Meg widened her stance and tensed into position, lifting one katak over her head and lowering the other to guard her legs.

The monster stopped, sniffing the air. It braced itself and shrieked, the force of its rage driving Meg backward a step. The overwhelming smell of its rancid breath sent her stomach roiling.

Beside her, Tzaitel shifted.

Meg waited, willing her palms to stop sweating.

Tzaitel always went first.

Meg always followed.

That was how they did it.

But Tzaitel takes so long all the time. Meg chewed on her bottom lip. She needs to hurry or we’ll miss our chance.

The creature towered over them, edging closer with every moment. Its tail swung like a pendulum behind it, twisting and spinning, the spikes studding it flashing in the sun.

Meg held her position.

Tzaitel spun one of her sticks—and charged.

Finally.

Meg leaped after her, and they both ran to either side of the monster, spinning and swinging in unison and bashing their sticks into its joints. The creature roared in pain and anger and leaned sideways.

Meg swung for one of the joints, and it shifted out of her reach. She stumbled and rocked sideways, hopping on one foot to regain her balance.

Too late.

Tail!

The creature’s tail caught her behind one of her legs and swept her body out from under her. She crashed on the dirt shoulders first, and the whole world spun upside down. Jenny was screaming somewhere. Meg tuned her out and rolled as the tail swung at her again, digging its spikes into the dirt where she’d been.

She rolled backward and surged to her feet, swinging at the nearest leg joints again. Her stick made contact, and the joint popped out of socket with a satisfying crunch.

The beast shrieked.

Meg gasped as her eardrums vibrated.

The leg pulled away and struck back at her. She blocked most of it with her other stick, but the force of the strike sent her flying end over end. She rolled in the dirt, gashes and scrapes on her arms from the debris on the field.

Beside the monster, Tzaitel whirled like a cyclone, dealing double strikes to every joint she could reach. Her robes flared around her legs as she danced around the monster’s strikes. It raged and screamed again, and though Tzaitel’s face showed the pain of its cry affecting her sensitive hearing, she didn’t stop.

Meg gathered her knees beneath her.

With every blow Tzaitel dealt the monster teetered and screamed in pain, but it didn’t fall. Why didn’t it fall?

The monster shifted backward, the leg Meg had dislocated snapping back into place.

Okay. So its skin is tough, and its joints don’t stay out. Meg eyed the ground where a broken spearhead lay at her knee. I wonder.

She tucked one of her sticks under her arm and grabbed the remaining haft of the spear, holding it like a dagger. She wet her lips and whistled as loud as she could.

The monster stumbled in surprise, and Tzaitel got in a hit hard enough against its throat that it reared back with a roar of pain.

Now or never.

Meg bolted forward as the beast stayed on its back legs, strange joints shifting to accommodate its muscular build. The skin over its back knee tightened, the mucus layer looking suspiciously dry.

Meg gathered her strength and stabbed the joint with the spearhead, using all the strength she had in her arm. The spearhead sliced into the creature’s skin and wedged into the joint.

Now it really screamed.

Louder than before. It thrashed and flailed. Meg scrambled to strike it with her stick, but the creature locked onto her. It leaped out of her reach and swung its tail. Meg evaded it the first time, but the second time its tail smashed into her back. One of the spikes nicked her arm, and instantaneous pain seared through her.

Like lightning, the burning sting of the cut traveled up her arm and across her shoulders. Numbed her fingers. She couldn’t hold her stick. Her breath caught in her throat.

Venom? Poison? What is this?

“Margaret!” Tzaitel screamed.

The monster loomed over her, its mouth gaping open, saliva dripping from its teeth. She couldn’t move. Her whole body felt paralyzed.

It was so close she could count its fangs, trace the detail of the arrow jabbed in the back of its throat.

And then it toppled over sideways in an ungainly heap of legs.

Meg held still, staring at where the monster used to be above her, trembling. What had happened? Why had it stopped? Where had it gone?

Tzaitel seized her from behind and jerked her backward as the monster scrambled back to its feet. “Move! Get back!”

Tziatel held her close as the monster spun and charged—at Velanna.

Velanna stood, wind in her robes, and her energy saber flaring in her hands like pure sunlight. The monster’s charge was awkward, one of its lesser legs was gone—chopped off at the joint.

Velanna swung at it with all her natural grace, side-stepping its strike like a dancer and swinging her energy saber at it again. She lopped off another leg with ease, and the monster went down again.

Shivering against Tzaitel, Meg squeezed her eyes shut. It was good to know that something existed that could pierce the monster’s skin, but could Velanna bring the monster down on her own?

Another loud thump indicated she’d taken another leg off.

Maybe Velanna could do it.

If anyone could, it would be her.

The monster screamed again, and Meg pried her eyes open to see Velanna take its head off in a series of swings. The beast gurgled and spasmed and hit the dirt in a tangle of bloody stubs and twitching limbs. A rasping breath escaped its decapitated head.

As Meg watched, the creature began to dry out. Rapidly. All the moisture in its body evaporated, and the corpse of the creature turned to ash, falling apart in the dirt, scattered by the wind.

Tzaitel’s hold on her relaxed slightly. “Well, I suppose that is that.”

Meg nodded, still shaking.

“Are you badly wounded, Margaret?” Tzaitel smirked. “You’re not speaking, so I assume it is rather bad.”

Meg pointed to the gash in her arm, which had already started turning blue.

“Ah. Wonderful.” Tzaitel tilted her head. “Jennifer, do fetch the antivenom before your sister passes out.”

Meg clenched her teeth as she watched Jenny bound out of one of the shelters into a nearby hut.

“Do you have to say it in a way that makes me sound useless?” she ground out.

Tzaitel’s smile was warm. “Of course, Margaret. What else are big sisters for?”