Juva froze, her blood curdling as distant screams pierced the night’s gloom. The Goblin Horde was coming to kill her only friend.

Desperately, Juva pulled at the man’s leaden arm, struggling to drag him further into the marshlands. But she wasn’t strong enough, and her heels sunk into wet black muck. Knee-deep, Juva felt the mud suck at her feet, threatening to swallow her. Yet, despite her efforts, her friend remained lodged in place. Her eyes darted, searching for branches or shrubs useful for cover. But truthfully, she knew there was no way to hide him. He was wounded, and his blood had left a fiery trail of molten stone.

Juva’s grip slipped, and she fell into a frigid puddle. Thick tears spilled and her raven-hair caked against her cheeks. “Please, you have to wake up. We have to go. They’ll hurt you.” They would hurt her, too. But Juva didn’t care. All her life, she’d been treated as a curse … a bad omen. All because she wasn’t like her brothers; she was a girl.

Her friend grew weaker by the moment and Juva could do nothing but watch helplessly as his crimson skin dulled, becoming almost black. “No—” Her breath cut short. Something snapped and crashed behind her, and she spun, her heart leaping to her throat. Had the Horde surrounded them already? The murky puddle rippled, pulsing with each earth-felt tremor. No, this wasn’t the Horde, but something large and singular that stalked unhurriedly toward them.

From the mist, the thing took shape, and Juva staggered to her feet, putting herself between it and her friend. “Who’s there?” she called out as a tall shadow grew among the trees. A low rumbling growl followed, droning through the darkness and rattling her bones. The figure didn’t speak until its large feline head towered over the mist, its bright yellow eyes gleaming in a glow of molten blood. It mewled a feral pitch, then its gaze settled upon her.

“Who are you, child?” it asked in an imperious tone, though the being gasped before Juva could answer. “Where did you find that?”

Juva blinked, wobbling on mired feet, the coldness that had bitten into her shins forgotten. “Find … what?”

“That thing around your neck.”

Juva protectively clutched the ceramic vial against her chest. “This? It-it’s nothing. A trinket I found in the grotto,” she lied.

The creature leaned in, taking a closer look at the unconscious man, dark stripes swam across its thick pelt in hypnotic waves. “Could it really be…” it said, teeth like daggers flashed from under its white-bearded crest.

Juva nibbled her upper lip. She’d never seen a being like this, but it seemed to know about her friend somehow. Did that mean it could help them? “He’s hurt,” she said. “Can you save him?” The shouting drew closer. Any moment now, the Horde could be upon them. “Please? He’s dying.”

The beast crouched and its predatory eyes fixated on something, as if they could pierce the milky-white fog .

“Please!” Juva cried, unable to keep the sobbing from her voice.

The giant feline straightened slightly, its gaze finally returning to her, and it reached with a paw as big as she was tall. “Come with me, young goblin.”

“But what about my friend?” she protested.

“Do not worry. I will carry him.”

Juva’s jaw fell slack, and hope dared to blossom in her chest. “You will keep him safe?”

“More than that.”

Juva clenched her jaws. The shouting grew louder and louder. What choice did she have but to trust this stranger? “Alright … we’ll … we’ll come with. But-But … can you tell me your name, at least?”

The massive striped being passed over her. “I am Lord Khorasan, the Djinn of Wonder.”

Juva gawked. A djinn? “I-I’m Juvayni,” she said unprompted. “But they call me Juva. And this is my best friend. His name is Tarikh.”

“Friend?” the djinn chuckled. “Oh, child… demons have no friends.”

Juva felt her skin crawl. “Demon?” she mouthed, the word uttered in a shallow breath as she watched the djinn press its snout against Tarikh’s back before opening its giant maw. In a flash of horror, Juva rushed at them. “Stop! Don’t eat him!”

The djinn released the crimson man, licking its lips. “I won’t,” Khorasan said, then took Tarikh’s body between its canines for a second time and raised him. Drops of burning blood trickled from its chin.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Juva asked, but the djinn, with its mouth full, grunted with a mighty shrug. From afar, the orange glow of torchlight spread among the trees. Khorasan turned to her, then stooped, lowering one nimble shoulder toward her. Juva instantly understood what it wanted and she began to scale the colossal arm, gripping the djinn by its long fur, thick as wire.

Powerful muscles shifted beneath her feet. It was frightening, probably more frightening then she could presently comprehend. Khorasan’s every breath reminded her of a flood of rainwater swirling through a crevasse in the grotto during an autumn storm. Like a grating growl that reverberated through her every nerve and fiber.

When she was finally straddled between its shoulders the djinn rose and suddenly, Juva was among a web of branches, jutting this way and that. The djinn growled something that sounded like ‘hold on’ but Juva didn’t need to be told. It wasn’t like the djinn suddenly dashed forward, but it still moved very fast. Slinking between trees and more than once, Juva had to duck as they went under a gnarled, leafless branch.

In mere minutes, there was no sign of torchlight and she heard nothing but the djinn’s throaty panting, the stricken screeching of birds roused from their nests, and the rush of wind against her pointed ears.

They traveled like this all throughout the night, and gone far. The marshland turned to forest patched with open fields and the sun rose over great grassy plains with rolling hills that filled the horizon. Khorasan’s fur shone in the light, its black patterns rippled over an orange-red coat.

Juva had never been this far from home before, but now, the novelty of the new started wearing off. Withered and chafed by hunger and lack of sleep, Juva was sore all over; her bottom, her thighs, her cramped hands, calves and even ankles ached. She was so tired, it hurt behind her eyes.

“Lord Khorasan, sir?” she said softly. “I think we lost them.” She hoped the djinn was eager to rest as well, but it’s only reply was a muffled grunt. Juva strained to keep her eyes from falling shut, fearing that the next time they opened she’d be mid-fall speeding toward the ground. “Lord Khorasan,” she tried again. “I don’t think I can hold on much longer. Can we rest?” Then, to Juva’s relief, the djinn’s pace slowed, and it calmly padded toward a large oak standing companionless in a field. A herd of deer pranced away in fright, disappearing into the woods. Juva couldn’t help but smile. From up high, they looked like a colony of brown frogs, leaping for their murky pond.

Khorasan barely fit under the tall oak as he laid down under its canopy. Juva was so stiff, she hesitated to climb down, fearing her legs would give out and she’d slip and fall. But, she also desperately wanted to feel solid earth beneath her feet and to lay in the meadow. She’d never slept in a meadow before. She heard that it was wonderful.

Khorasan propped Tarikh against the wide trunk, then rested its head between two white tipped paws. Juva slid down from its shoulder, wincing when she hit the ground feet first. She wobbled a few steps, then pivoted to check on her friend. “Is he all right?” she asked.

Khorasan opened its eyes. Half-lidded, they stared listlessly at her. Perhaps the djinn was tired after all? “It takes much to kill a demon.”

Juva sat herself beside Tarikh, her palm hovering over the gash in his chest which was now crusted with warm, black, rock. “He’s no longer bleeding.”

Khorasan purred a hum, its eyes falling shut for a few moments then opened again. “How did your people inflict this injury?”

“They didn’t,” Juva said. “This is how I found him.”

“You found him in the grotto?”

Juva nodded. “In one of the old tunnels.” She bit her lip. “My brothers don’t like it when I get too close. So I spend a lot of time wandering alone.”

“Why didn’t you leave for the mountains like your sisters?”

Juva shrugged. “It isn’t easy to leave the Horde. Even as a female…”

“And?”

“And I didn’t want to leave my family behind. I thought—I thought, maybe if I could prove useful, my brothers might change their minds.”

Khorasan mewled what sounded like a chuckle and she could tell he was smirking under that white furry beard. “So, you try to help in your own way by finding your pickings in abandoned passages…”

“Yes,” Juva said, softly plucking at the petals of an unlucky dandelion. She wiggled her toes as the gentle breeze made the undulating grass tickle her feet.

“But your brothers would’ve already gone over every nook and cranny of those caves. How did you find the demon, then?”

“I didn’t find him… not really. Somehow, it found me.” Juva stared off into the distance, still very tired, but in her mind she saw the memory clear as day.

“How do you mean?”

“There was a cave-in and I got trapped behind a mound of rubble. I tried calling for help, but I don’t think anyone heard.”

“And if they had, they’d probably wouldn’t have come.”

Juva glanced away. “Maybe,” she muttered.

“Then, what happened?”

Juva laid her head against Tarikh’s shoulder, her fingers idly tracing the length of his lower arm. It was so peaceful here. This was a place one could sleep forever. “I tried to dig myself out. It’s not a simple thing to do after a cave-in. The ground is very loose, and for every rock you move, three more tumble in its place. But what else could I do?”

“That must’ve been hard.”

Juva nodded slowly, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. “I didn’t give up, and then, after picking away so many rocks, I grabbed a hand, and it instantly seized my wrist.”

“That didn’t frighten you?”

“It surprised me. I thought maybe one of my brothers had come back. But then I got a fright because no brother has hands as large as these. I tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let go. Then the earth and rubble shifted, and it got hot. I didn’t even notice his horns until his head rose from the dirt. He looked at me, and strangely, I wasn’t afraid anymore; he was hurt. I felt his strength leave him, and he fainted. I then—” Juva stopped, hearing an unmistakable snore. She peered past the demon’s chest at Lord Khorasan, finding the djinn sound asleep. She smiled softly and leaned back, whispering to Tarikh. “I hope you’ll wake soon. Everything is going to be better from now on. You’ll see.” She yawned and pressed the vial against her bosom. “But whatever happens, I’ll keep you safe. Demon or not.”