It was even easier to get out of the city than Jac had thought. Instead of threatening the guards, all she had to do was challenge them to an armwrestling contest. Once she’d beaten them all, they let her climb down the outer side of the watchtower. Even less than five minutes.
Jac released her hammer from its wrap the second she hit the ground, staring into the dark forest and listening for any sign of anything. She stumbled in the direction she thought they had left the monster in, but she didn’t have to go too far. Quick footfalls sent hot prickles of adrenaline down Jac’s arms, and she wound up, ready to swing—but what burst from the shadows was Belle’s new pet. Its yellow-green eyes were wide, panicked, and it let out a horrific screech while it danced in place, but it stayed well out of immediate hammer-range.
Jac must really be spending too much time with Belle, because she would swear the beast was trying to tell her something. It whirled around and took off on its spindly legs into the trees, shrieked, then whirled around and came rushing back to dance in place again. When Jac didn’t react, it repeated this series of actions. And when she still did nothing, the beast swung its head in the direction it kept running.
It finally sunk in. “Is she out there? You know where she is?”
If Belle had gone into the forest of her own free will, she would have certainly taken the beast with her. The monster planted all four feet and flashed those yellow eyes at Jac, foam flying from its cracked lips with each pant. Jac took that as an affirmation.
Stolen novel; please report.
“Take me to her.”
The beast turned its side to Jac and swung its head around to touch its lips to its back. It took Jac’s drunken brain a second to understand—or maybe the drunkenness was what made Jac able to understand the beast in the first place. It was telling her to climb aboard.
Jac grimaced. She was already too close to this thing for her own comfort—not only did she not trust it, but it smelled like death. And ass. Maybe it wasn’t even taking her to Belle. But no, Jac already knew she was going to do it.
One slow step forward. The monster just impatiently kissed its back again. Two slow steps forward. She reached out to let her fingers brush the beast’s rough hide. It quivered, and its bony chest heaved with nervous breaths, but it was otherwise still.
“Fuck me.”
Jac had strapped her hammer to her back and was trying to formulate a game plan that would get her drunken ass onto this beast—when she remembered how Belle had shit-talked the monster’s ex-owner on their way to Urden, saying Muursh were built for speed, not strength, and he was cruel for forcing Clarix to pull his wagon. She had been amazed Clarix could even still walk. A vision of Jac (and hammer, which weighed far more than Jac did) jumping onto the beast’s back only to have its many-jointed legs snap beneath them flashed through her mind.
“Fuck me.”
Not only would that eliminate Jac’s only way of finding Belle, but Belle would kill her. Even if Jac never tracked her down, Belle would find a way to curse her into oblivion for hurting this mangled creature.
“Mother fucking Light,” she swore to herself. “Just lead me there.”