The cost of keeping a city alive.

One of Kessa’s golden rings began to hum again. She stopped beneath the acacia and counted the seconds until its faint light faded. Exactly the same interval. Again. Whatever had triggered the eastern perimeter alarm was either remarkably patient or remarkably stupid. She was beginning to suspect the latter. A deep violet sunrise stretched across the horizon, the sort Kessa had seen a hundred times and never thought to remember. Kessa had been awake for hours, but she looked toward the coming sunrise with a soft smile. Daylight would make the search easier. Hotter, too.

The solitary acacia rose from the dry earth, its twisted trunk supporting a broad canopy of sparse, dusty-green leaves. Exposed roots gripped the cracked soil beneath it. Kessa leaned against the trunk and uncrossed her arms. Her fitted black tunic bore narrow gold trim along the shoulders and waist, its short layered hem shifting over her bronzed thighs. Dust clung to her high boots, and the geometric goldwork at her collar had grown warm during the long trek. She unbuttoned the black pack at her waist, pulled out her canteen, and took a long drink.

“Ahhhhh….” she sighed to herself, as she felt the cool liquid hit her empty stomach.

She packed the canteen away and surveyed the landscape. She had left Avelune in the dead of night after something large triggered one of the Kavren's perimeter alarms. As the newest member of the Kavren, she had been assigned to investigate.

“Of course it had to be the eastern perimeter alarm…” she said aloud. “Why don't we send the rookie?” she added in a ridiculous tone.

Kessa waved a dismissive hand at her imaginary tormentor, tossing her wavy plum-colored hair over her shoulders with an exaggerated flourish.

“Fine. I’ll go. But don’t blame me when it’s another false alarm…” Kessa’s frown warped into a mischievous grin. “…and all the officers’ boots are filled with itching moss.”

The eastern perimeter alarm was undoubtedly the farthest, perched high among cliffs that stretched for miles in either direction. Her legs were already sore from the winding paths and loose stone. Three golden bangles encircled each of her forearms. The ring on her left arm had fallen quiet, but Kessa kept half an ear on it, waiting for the next pulse.

That was what bothered her. The alarm's signal had reached her at perfectly regular intervals since she'd left Avelune. Not once had it missed a beat. She reached across with her right hand and touched the silent band, then let her arm fall.

The savannah grass rustled in the distance. In an instant, Kessa spun toward the rustling brush, raising both hands. Two of her six rings flashed, spilling golden light across her fingers. She knew the shape she wanted before the light had fully gathered. Years of practice had made the spell instinctual, but even the simplest construct required a clear mental pattern to hold its form. Her fingers shifted slightly, guiding the magic into the familiar arrangement. The light stretched outward, taking shape in an instant. First came the hilts, settling into her palms, then the blades, their luminous edges sharpening into solid form. A heartbeat later, she stood with a golden sword in either hand, ready to strike. A small white hare emerged from the brush.

Kessa breathed an audible sigh of relief as the two golden swords in her hand dissipated into dust, gone just as quickly as they had arrived. She looked over at the horizon again, the first edge of the sun crested the distant cliffs, spilling pale gold across the dry grass and drawing long shadows from the acacia. As Kessa turned toward the rising sun, its golden light caught her yellow eyes, illuminating the concentric rings within her irises until they gleamed like polished amber.

The little white hare sat motionless among the dry grasses, its long ears standing upright and its pink nose twitching. Kessa approached slowly, careful not to frighten it. The creature watched her with dark, curious eyes, unconcerned by the two golden swords that had appeared only moments before.

“Well, aren't you a fearsome little thing,” Kessa muttered.

The hare twitched its ears and hopped away, revealing the depression beneath it. Kessa stopped. What she'd mistaken for a shallow patch of disturbed earth was a footprint. An enormous one. Four thick toes had pressed deep into the soil, each ending in a narrow puncture where a claw had bitten into the ground. Behind them lay the broad impression of a heavy foot, its edges ridged with displaced dirt.

She crouched beside it, resting one hand against the earth. Her unusual golden eyes narrowed, their fine concentric markings catching the rising light as she studied the impression. The hare had fit comfortably inside a single toe. Kessa brushed dirt from the four claw marks and followed the raised rim of soil with her finger. She rose and followed the trail with her eyes.

Another footprint lay several paces ahead, then another, each set wide apart from the next. She could make out four distinct tracks, but their spacing was strange. The hind feet had landed unusually far forward, almost alongside the impressions left by the front. Four powerful legs, then. But why such an enormous gap?

She walked a few paces along the trail, searching the earth between the prints. There were no grooves from a dragging belly, no sweeping marks from a heavy tail. Nothing but the deep impressions of its feet.

Kessa frowned. Between the footprints, the ground was almost untouched. Look once to find the trail. Look twice to find the truth. Dorran's voice surfaced in her memory, as clear as if her old mentor were standing beside her. Kessa smiled. She remembered the countless afternoons spent crouching over animal tracks while Dorran watched her confidently arrive at the wrong conclusions.

"And Kessa? If your feet haven't moved, neither has your perspective."

She could still remember the smug little smile that always accompanied those words.

"All right, Dorran," she murmured, rising to her feet. "Let's try it your way."

She circled the enormous footprint, examining it from another angle. The trail crossed a shallow depression of damp, soft soil. Several paces ahead lay another cluster of impressions, with untouched earth between.

Kessa followed the trail, counting her steps as she moved between the two sets of tracks. She stopped and looked back.

"That can't be right..."

She retraced her steps and crouched beside the first set of impressions. From this direction, she could see that the claws had carved short furrows backward through the soil. Loose earth had been thrown up behind the toes, as though the creature had pushed against the ground with tremendous force.

She glanced toward the next set of prints. Those were different. The impressions were deeper, their forward edges compressed and ridged with displaced earth. Her eyes widened.

"You weren't walking."

The empty ground between the tracks suddenly made sense. The rearward furrows marked its launch; the deep impressions ahead marked its landing. It had been jumping.

Kessa slowly rose to her feet. Whatever had left these tracks was enormous, yet it could propel its entire weight through the air. The thought sent an unfamiliar chill through her, despite the growing warmth of the morning.

She turned back toward the impressions. The raised ridges of soil marked where it had pushed off, while the deeper landing prints showed where its momentum had carried it. Following their alignment, she lifted her gaze toward the distant cliffs. That was where it had gone.

Kessa studied the rising terrain for a moment, then glanced back at the solitary acacia. Its broad canopy stood above the surrounding grass, offering a clear view of the eastern approach.

"Well, up we go."

Kessa returned to the acacia and looked up through its crooked branches. One sturdy limb extended just above her head, its rough bark offering an easy handhold. She jumped, caught the branch with both hands, and pulled herself upward. Short and petite, she had little weight to lift, and years of field training had given her a nimble confidence that made the climb look almost effortless.

Her dark boots found purchase against the twisted trunk as she reached for the next branch. The short skirt of her fitted charcoal tunic shifted with the movement, its narrow gold trim catching the morning light. She paused to free the fabric from a knot in the bark, then continued upward.

A breeze stirred her wavy plum hair, brushing it across her face. She tucked it behind one long, pointed ear and reached for a higher branch. Against the pale wood, the warm caramel brown of her skin stood out in the strengthening sunlight.

Near the top, she swung herself into the fork of two sturdy limbs and settled into a comfortable crouch. The wind tugged at her tunic as she balanced above the grasslands, one hand resting lightly against the trunk.

From here, the eastern wilderness stretched out before her. She raised her left arm, and one of her golden rings began to hum. Light gathered around her outstretched hand, forming two narrow cylinders that lengthened and hardened into a pair of binoculars. Their golden surfaces were smooth and seamless, with clear lenses at either end.

Kessa brought them to her eyes. The distant cliffs leapt into focus. Beyond the dry grasslands, the country rose in great uneven terraces of stone and vegetation. Thick green growth spilled over the cliff faces, gathering in the cracks and hollows where water lingered. Trees clung to narrow ledges, their roots winding down the exposed rock. Farther toward the coast, the cliffs descended in steep, overgrown terraces toward a vast expanse of shimmering blue water. Waves broke against jagged rocks far below, sending white spray into the air, while patches of dense greenery clung to the slopes overlooking the sea.

From the ground, the eastern wilderness had seemed little more than grass, scattered trees, and distant stone. From here, she could see how the land folded into itself. Ravines disappeared beneath dense canopies. Tangled vegetation swallowed entire stretches of the old trails. Even the cliffs seemed less like bare rock than enormous walls slowly being claimed by the forest.

Kessa swept the binoculars across the landscape, searching for movement. A flock of birds rose suddenly from a stand of trees, wheeling into the morning sky. She followed them briefly, then returned her attention to the lower slopes.

Nothing.

She adjusted her position on the branch and searched again, following the direction of the footprints toward a narrow passage between two rocky ridges. Something had disturbed the vegetation there. Several bushes lay flattened along the edge of the passage, and a pale scar of exposed earth cut through the greenery.

Kessa lowered the binoculars.

"There you are."

The golden instrument dissolved into a scattering of light as she released her focus. She looked toward the distant passage once more. Whatever had passed through there was heading toward the coast. And if those footprints were any indication, it could cover the distance far faster than she could.

A familiar hum interrupted her thoughts. Kessa glanced down at her left arm. One of the golden rings had begun to pulse again, but this time its light flickered in a different rhythm. She recognized the pattern immediately.

"Dorran?"

She touched the ring with two fingers. Its hum softened, and a familiar voice reached her, faint but unmistakable.

"Kessa. Tell me you've reached the eastern perimeter."

"Good morning to you too."

"Have you?"

"Not quite."

A weary sigh answered her.

"Kessa..."

"I'm making progress!" she protested. "And before you ask, no, I haven't been distracted."

"I wasn't going to ask."

"You were thinking it."

"I was."

She grinned, shifting her weight against the branch.

"Actually, I've found something. Tracks. Very large ones."

"How large?"

Kessa glanced toward the ground far below.

"Large enough that I considered climbing inside one to get out of the sun."

"Kessa."

"Four toes, heavy claws, enormous weight. No belly or tail drag. And the spacing is strange." She hesitated. "Dorran, I think it was jumping."

The ring went quiet for a moment.

"Jumping?" Dorran repeated, disbelief creeping into his voice.

"There's a clear takeoff and landing. Nothing between them, even where the soil should have held a print."

"And you're certain?"

"I looked twice."

Another pause.

"From different directions?"

Kessa smiled.

"Yes, Dorran. From different directions."

"Good. Now tell me where it's headed."

"Toward the coast. I found a trail through the vegetation, just below the eastern cliffs."

"And you're certain it's moving away from the perimeter?"

"That's what the tracks suggest."

"Good. Then there's something else I need you to explain."

Kessa frowned.

"The eastern perimeter alarm has triggered six times since you left. Always the same interval. The officers are beginning to think the sensor's damaged."

Kessa looked down at the ring.

"Six? Dorran, it's been sounding the entire time I've been out here."

"What do you mean, the entire time?"

"Every few minutes. I stopped counting after the first dozen."

Silence.

"Dorran?"

"Stay where you are for a moment."

She straightened against the trunk.

"Why?"

"Because I want to check something."

The connection fell quiet, leaving only the rustling leaves and the distant cries of birds. Kessa looked toward the coast again. For the first time that morning, she wished she weren't so far from home. Several minutes passed.

Kessa shifted her weight against the branch, stretching one leg out before drawing it back beneath her. The morning sun had climbed higher, and what little shade the acacia offered was rapidly disappearing. She sighed and plucked a leaf from a nearby branch, turning it between her fingers.

"Any day now, Dorran."

She dropped the leaf and watched it drift toward the ground. Another minute passed.

"I could've been halfway there by now."

Just as she was considering climbing down, the ring on her left arm began to pulse.

"Finally."

She touched the band.

"Dorran? Did you find something?"

"Kessa, listen carefully." His voice was unusually firm. "I need you to proceed to the eastern perimeter station. Once you arrive, stay there and wait for reinforcements."

She straightened.

"Reinforcements? For a broken alarm?"

"We're sending a team by sea. They should reach the coastal approach before long."

"By sea? Dorran, what's going on?"

"I need you to promise me something. Whatever you've been tracking, do not approach it. Do not attempt to capture it. And under no circumstances are you to engage it."

Kessa frowned.

"You haven't even seen the tracks."

"I know."

"Then how do you know it's dangerous?"

A pause followed. Longer than the others.

"I don't," he said at last. "That's precisely why I want you to wait."

Kessa looked toward the coast, where the cliffs descended into the distant blue water.

"All right," she said reluctantly. "I'll wait."

"Good. And Kessa?"

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

The ring fell silent. She remained perched in the acacia, staring at the golden band around her forearm. Dorran had never been one to worry without reason. Even during her training, when she'd made mistakes that would have earned another apprentice a week of lectures, he'd preferred a sharp word and a chance to try again.

But this was different. He hadn't teased her about the tracks. He hadn't questioned her judgment. He hadn't even complained about how long she'd taken to reach the perimeter. And when she'd asked what was wrong, he'd answered a different question entirely. Kessa glanced once more toward the narrow passage in the cliffs. Whatever Dorran had discovered, she had the uncomfortable feeling he'd told her only part of it.

The descent from the acacia was less graceful than the climb. Kessa dropped from the lowest branch, landing in a crouch that sent a small cloud of dust billowing around her boots. She straightened, brushed the dirt from her tunic, and took one last look toward the narrow passage she had spotted through her binoculars. Somewhere beyond those ridges lay the eastern perimeter station, and beyond that, the coast. She adjusted the pack at her waist, checked the position of her six rings, and set off across the grassland.

The morning had grown steadily warmer. The cool air of dawn was giving way to the dry heat of the day, and the grasses whispered against her legs as she followed the uneven ground toward the coast. Scattered acacias cast thin patches of shade across the earth, their twisted branches reaching outward above clusters of thorny scrub. Small birds darted between the bushes, while insects stirred in the undergrowth, filling the air with a low, continuous hum. The land was far from empty, even here at the outer reaches of Avelune's territory. Every patch of shade seemed to shelter something living, and every exposed stone carried evidence of creatures that had passed through during the night.

As she continued eastward, the open savannah gradually surrendered to thicker vegetation. The dry grasses gave way to broad leaves and tangled shrubs, and the narrow paths between them became increasingly difficult to follow. The ground sloped gently downward, broken by shallow ravines and shelves of exposed stone. Roots pushed through the soil and disappeared beneath fallen branches, while flowering vines climbed the trunks of trees that had taken hold wherever the broken terrain offered shelter from the wind. Kessa stepped over a shallow washout and continued along a sloping shelf of stone, occasionally using her hands to steady herself where loose gravel threatened to slide beneath her boots. The air changed as she traveled. Beneath the familiar scents of dry earth and warm vegetation came the faint smell of salt, carried inland on a breeze from the sea.

Ahead, the highland terrain began to break apart into a series of descending terraces. Great shelves of pale stone extended toward the coast, separated by steep drops and narrow ravines thick with vegetation. Trees clung to the edges of the terraces, their roots winding down exposed rock faces, while curtains of greenery spilled over the ledges into the shadows below. Through occasional openings in the foliage, Kessa caught glimpses of the water beyond, a vast blue expanse stretching toward the horizon. Far beneath the outermost cliffs, waves crashed against jagged formations of dark stone, sending white spray into the air. The eastern coast was a rugged place, shaped as much by the relentless growth of the wilderness as by the sea itself.

She knew these paths well enough to recognize where the old routes had become overgrown. A narrow trail that should have continued around a rocky outcrop had vanished beneath a dense wall of vines, forcing her to scramble over the stone instead. Farther along, a fallen tree bridged a shallow ravine, its exposed roots tangled with the surrounding brush. Kessa paused to inspect the crossing before carefully making her way across, testing each step against the weathered wood. It was slow going, but there was something reassuring about the familiar difficulties of the terrain. Loose stones, stubborn vegetation, awkward climbs. These were problems she understood.

The perimeter station was another matter.

The path eventually narrowed as it wound between two rocky ridges, descending toward the outermost terraces. Here, the wind carried the steady roar of the surf, setting the vegetation trembling along the exposed stone. Kessa stopped briefly to catch her breath, resting one hand against the rock while she looked back over the country she had crossed. From this vantage, the savannah stretched away behind her, a patchwork of gold and green broken by scattered trees. Beyond it, the wooded valleys faded into the distant interior, their contours softened by a thin haze rising in the morning heat. Ahead, the land fell away in a succession of rugged, overgrown ledges until it met the sea far below.

She turned toward the narrow trail ahead. The eastern perimeter lay somewhere beyond the next bend, close enough now that she expected to see its marker above the vegetation. She had encountered no further tracks since leaving the acacia, although the increasingly rocky terrain would have made them difficult to find. Nor had she seen any sign of the enormous creature through the gaps in the trees. Whatever had passed this way had left remarkably little disturbance beyond the flattened vegetation she had spotted from her perch.

A faint vibration stirred against her forearm. Kessa stopped. One of the golden rings flickered, its familiar hum barely audible beneath the wind. She touched it before the sound could grow louder, silencing the notification. For a moment she remained still, watching the light fade from its surface.

Another activation. Another perfectly measured interval. She looked toward the narrow trail ahead, where the vegetation thickened around the final bend. Dorran had told her not to engage anything. He hadn't told her to stop looking.

Kessa tightened the strap of her pack and continued toward the eastern perimeter. The eastern perimeter station came into view as Kessa rounded the last bend in the descending trail.

Or rather, what remained of it.

She stopped.

The station stood on a broad shelf of stone overlooking the coast, where the grassy terraces gave way to steep cliffs and the blue expanse of the sea beyond. Kessa remembered a squat stone building, a covered platform, and the tall wooden framework that supported the perimeter alarm.

The building was still there, though part of its roof had collapsed. The platform had been reduced to a tangle of broken timber, and one of the alarm's supporting posts leaned at a precarious angle. Splintered boards and fragments of stone lay scattered across the terrace.

"Well," Kessa muttered. "That's going to be expensive."

She approached cautiously, watching the ground as much as the wreckage. The first thing she noticed was a familiar impression in the dirt. Four thick toes, each tipped with a deep claw mark. Another lay farther ahead, partially obscured by a fallen beam.

She crouched beside it. The same creature. There was no mistaking those enormous feet. Kessa rose and surveyed the destruction. One of the station's wooden supports had been snapped near its base. Another had been torn free entirely, leaving a jagged hole in the stonework where its mounting had been secured. The remaining framework leaned toward the sea, its crossbeams twisted beneath the weight of the damaged roof. Whatever had done this possessed tremendous strength.

She stepped over a broken railing and nearly stumbled over something lying beneath it. A small antelope lay on its side, its slender legs bent awkwardly beneath its body. Kessa knelt beside the animal, gently moving a fallen branch away from its neck. It was dead. There were no bite marks that she could see, nor any evidence that something had attempted to feed on it. A broad bruise darkened its flank, and the ground beneath its body had been pressed flat.

Kessa looked toward the broken railing.

"Poor thing."

She rested a hand briefly against its shoulder before standing. A little farther on, she found another animal, this one smaller, half-buried beneath a pile of shattered boards. Its body had been crushed by the falling timber.

Two dead animals. Neither eaten.

Kessa frowned. Predators sometimes killed more than they could consume, particularly when frightened or disturbed, but something about the scene felt wrong. The damage was scattered in every direction. The animals hadn't been dragged anywhere. There was no sign of a den, a feeding place, or even a struggle between hunter and prey.

Instead, it looked as though something enormous had blundered through the station without caring what stood in its way. She turned slowly, studying the arrangement of the debris. The outer railing had been broken outward. The roof supports had fallen in different directions. Deep gouges scored the earth between them, and several stones had been pushed aside with enough force to leave furrows in the hard ground.

Whatever had come through here hadn't been pursuing the animals. It had been trying to get away. Kessa glanced back at the little antelope.

"Wrong place, wrong time."

A faint hum rose from her left forearm. She looked down. One of her golden rings had begun to glow, its light pulsing gently against her skin. Again. Kessa raised her eyes toward the damaged alarm.

"You're still doing that?"

The alarm's framework was battered, but part of its mechanism remained suspended beneath the surviving crossbeam. She could see the faint glow of its resonant housing through a gap in the splintered wood. A moment later, the glow faded. So did the light in her ring.

Kessa waited, counting silently. At precisely the interval she had come to expect, the housing flashed again. Her ring answered with another soft hum. She touched the band, silencing it.

"Wonderful. Half the station's in pieces, and that's the part that still works."

She climbed over a fallen beam and examined the alarm more closely. The housing had suffered a heavy impact, leaving a crack along one side, but its inner assembly appeared intact. She couldn't see anything caught against its sensing surface, nor any obvious obstruction that might account for the repeated alerts.

Perhaps the damage had affected something inside. She would have to leave that question for someone better acquainted with the mechanism. For now, she had a larger problem. Kessa stepped away from the structure and returned to the footprints. The first set she examined lay beside the collapsed platform. The creature's front feet had driven deep into the soil, while its hind feet had gouged two long furrows behind them. Broken stone surrounded the impressions, and a heavy beam lay several paces away, its splintered end pointing toward the cliff.

She followed the tracks around the building. There were several more, some overlapping, others angled sharply away from one another. Whatever had made them had changed direction repeatedly, trampling the same ground as it moved. Then, near the eastern edge of the terrace, the tracks straightened. Four deep impressions marked the place where the creature had gathered itself. Beyond them, the ground was undisturbed for an astonishing distance.

Kessa smiled faintly.

"There you go."

She had already worked out that the creature traveled in great leaps. Here was another example, and a particularly impressive one. She turned back toward the station. The tracks around the building were more difficult to follow, but she could distinguish a rough sequence. The creature had moved toward the platform, struck the supporting framework, turned sharply, and collided with the outer railing. From there, it had scrambled across the terrace before finally leaping away.

A confused animal, perhaps. Frightened by the unfamiliar structure, or startled by the alarm itself. But that left one rather important question.

Where had it come from?

Kessa walked toward the western approach, searching for another set of tracks. Nothing. She circled behind the building, examining the narrow strip of earth between the rear wall and the rising stone slope. Dry grass grew undisturbed along its edge. A few smaller animal tracks crossed the soil, but none belonged to the enormous creature.

She checked the southern side next. Again, nothing. Kessa stood with her hands on her hips, looking back toward the ruined platform.

"All right. Where did you come from?"

She returned to the largest concentration of footprints. There, beside the broken supports, the ground had been churned almost beyond recognition. Several deep impressions overlapped one another, surrounded by loose stones and fragments of timber. She crouched, brushing dirt from the edge of one enormous print. The creature had stood here. That much was certain. It had moved around the station, struck the structure, and eventually fled toward the savannah.

But she couldn't find a single track leading into the area. Perhaps it had leaped onto the terrace from somewhere farther away. Kessa stood and looked toward the surrounding slopes. Possible. She had seen what those legs could do, after all.

She climbed onto a low section of surviving wall and surveyed the terrain. From there she could see the winding trail she had followed, the scattered trees farther inland, and the rocky terraces descending toward the sea.

Any animal of that size landing on the hard ground would have left some indication of its arrival. Broken vegetation, disturbed stones, another set of those enormous impressions. She searched the surrounding ground carefully.

Nothing.

Kessa climbed down. She walked another circuit around the station, this time farther out, checking the edges of the terrace and the narrow paths between the rocks.

Still nothing.

By the time she returned to the ruined platform, her earlier amusement had faded. She stared at the deep footprints beside the broken supports. The creature had been here. It had destroyed the station. It had killed two animals in its confusion, then escaped across the terraces in a series of enormous leaps.

She could follow nearly every part of its passage.

Except the beginning.

Kessa slowly turned, looking once more at the empty ground surrounding the wreckage. For the first time since discovering the creature's tracks, she found herself without a reasonable explanation. The alarm pulsed again. Her ring answered.

And Kessa stood in the middle of the ruined station, staring at a trail that seemed to begin beneath her feet. A low, guttural sound rolled across the terrace. Kessa froze. At first, she mistook it for the distant rumble of shifting stone. The cliffs were old, and the loose rock along their faces had a habit of breaking free without warning. But the sound came again, deeper this time, followed by a sharp, rasping breath.

Something was breathing.

Kessa slowly turned toward the cliff rising behind the station. The morning sun had begun to illuminate its upper reaches, casting long shadows across the uneven rock. She searched the ledges above, looking for movement among the scattered brush and pale stone.

Nothing.

Then a small pebble struck the ground beside her. Kessa glanced down. Another followed, bouncing off the broken platform before disappearing into the rubble. She raised her head, tracing their path upward. A shadow moved across the cliff face.

Her eyes widened. High above the ruined station, an enormous creature crouched upon a narrow shelf of rock. Its four powerful legs were folded beneath a heavy body, thick claws gripping the uneven stone. The creature's broad head hung low, its orange eyes fixed upon the small figure standing amid the wreckage below.

For a heartbeat, neither moved.

Kessa had imagined something large when she first discovered the footprints. Even after examining the ruined station, she had struggled to picture an animal capable of such destruction. Her imagination had fallen short.

"Oh, you've got to be..."

The creature's hind legs tightened. Kessa saw the muscles bunch beneath its skin, saw the claws scrape against the rock as its weight shifted forward. It wasn't preparing to climb down.

It was preparing to jump.

"Oh, shit."

The ledge exploded beneath the force of its leap. Kessa threw herself sideways just as the enormous creature launched from the cliff. Its shadow swept over her, swallowing the morning sunlight as she rolled across the broken stone.

A heartbeat later, the beast struck the terrace. The impact shook the ground beneath her. Dust and shattered rock burst outward, and a tremendous crack split the air as one of the remaining wooden supports snapped beneath its weight.

Kessa scrambled to her knees, coughing as dust filled her lungs. She could barely make out the creature through the rising cloud, only the immense shape of its body and the heavy movements of its four legs.

Then she heard it again. That same deep, rasping breath. Only now it was coming from directly in front of her. The creature emerged through the settling dust, and Kessa finally saw what had left those enormous footprints.

Four massive limbs supported a body covered in overlapping scales, dark as charcoal and thick enough to resemble plates of armor. Jagged black spines rose along its shoulders and back, some nearly as long as her forearm, forming an uneven ridge that continued toward a thick, muscular tail. All four legs were enormous, each ending in four long, curved claws that scraped against the stone as it shifted its weight.

But it was the creature's head that held her attention. A broad, angular skull protruded from beneath a crown of sharp, uneven scales. Two burning orange eyes stared at her from deep within their armored sockets. Its nostrils flared, releasing a harsh snort that sent dust swirling across the ground. Then its jaws parted, revealing row upon row of long, crooked teeth, each one glistening with saliva.

Kessa took an involuntary step backward.

"Okay. You're definitely not from around here."

The creature answered with a deafening roar. Its mouth opened impossibly wide, exposing a dark throat and a heavy tongue beneath the forest of teeth. The sound struck Kessa with enough force that she instinctively raised an arm to shield her face.

Before the roar had finished, the beast lunged. Kessa threw herself behind a section of collapsed wall as one enormous forelimb swept through the space she had occupied. Four black claws struck the stone, tearing deep grooves through its surface. The impact sent fragments flying, one of which caught her across the shoulder as she scrambled away.

"Ow! You enormous bastard!"

Two golden rings flashed upon her forearms. Light spilled into her waiting hands, stretching and hardening until a pair of golden swords took shape. Kessa tightened her grip on their hilts and turned to face the creature.

It was already moving. Despite its tremendous size, the beast was frighteningly quick. Its powerful hind legs drove it forward in a sudden burst, sending its armored body crashing through the remaining wall. Kessa barely managed to leap aside before its jaws snapped shut where her head had been a moment earlier.

The sound of those teeth striking together made her stomach tighten. She landed awkwardly, caught herself with one hand, and spun toward its exposed flank. Her right-hand sword flashed through the dusty air, striking the creature just behind its foreleg.

A sharp metallic crack rang out. The blade glanced off its scales. Kessa stumbled from the unexpected resistance, nearly losing her grip on the weapon. She stared at the shallow scratch her strike had left across the creature's armor.

"Oh, come on!"

The beast twisted toward her, its claws grinding against the stone. Its orange eyes followed her movements, and for the first time Kessa noticed something strange about its behavior. Its head jerked from side to side, nostrils flaring as it searched the unfamiliar surroundings. It seemed unable to decide whether to attack her or flee.

Then another pulse sounded from the ruined alarm. The golden ring on her left forearm hummed. The creature recoiled violently. Its jaws snapped shut, and it swung its head toward the broken station, releasing a furious, frightened bellow. One enormous forefoot slammed into the wreckage, scattering timber and stone across the terrace.

Kessa stared. It wasn't simply angry.

It was terrified.

She lowered her swords a fraction, watching the creature's frantic movements. The shattered station, the dead animals, the strange tracks that began from nowhere. Suddenly, the destruction made a little more sense.

"Easy," she said quietly, taking a cautious step backward. "Easy, big fellow."

The beast turned toward her. For the briefest moment, its burning eyes met hers. Its breathing came in heavy, ragged bursts, and a thin strand of saliva hung between its enormous teeth. Kessa held still. Then the creature lowered its head, spread its four clawed feet against the stone, and charged.

"Or not!"

She sprang sideways as its jaws swept past her, close enough that she felt the rush of its breath against her cheek. Her shoulder struck the ground, and she rolled beneath a fallen beam just as the beast crashed through the space behind her.

Wood shattered. Stone cracked. The entire terrace seemed to tremble. Kessa scrambled to her feet, swords raised, her heart hammering against her ribs. Dorran's warning echoed in her mind. Do not engage. She glanced at the golden blades in her hands, then at the enormous armored creature turning to face her once more.

"Right," she muttered breathlessly. "Might've been good advice."

The creature lowered its massive head, orange eyes fixed upon her as it prepared to charge again. Kessa tightened her grip on her swords, trying to ignore the dull ache spreading through her shoulder. She could barely scratch the thing, and judging by the deep gouges in the stone around her, she had little hope of surviving a direct hit.

Then the alarm sounded again. The creature recoiled, its armored head snapping toward the ruined station. It released another furious bellow and slammed one enormous forefoot into the ground, scattering loose stones across the terrace. Kessa glanced toward the damaged framework. The resonant housing flashed faintly beneath the broken crossbeam, and the familiar hum answered from her left forearm.

The alarm.

Every time it sounded, the creature became more agitated. With whatever frightened it in the first place, these repeated pulses certainly weren't helping.

"All right," Kessa muttered. "Let's see if we can shut you up."

She dismissed the swords, their golden blades dissolving into glittering dust. The creature watched the sudden movement, lowering its head as though preparing to spring. Kessa raised her hands cautiously, keeping her eyes on its enormous claws.

"Easy. I'm not going anywhere."

That was a lie, of course. She very much intended to go somewhere, preferably somewhere the creature wasn't. Her gaze darted toward the alarm. The housing hung crookedly beneath the remaining crossbeam, perhaps twenty paces away. She couldn't reach it without passing dangerously close to the beast, but she didn't necessarily have to.

One of the golden rings on her right forearm flashed. Light gathered in her palm, stretching into a short cylindrical weapon. A second section extended from the first, forming a slender fighting baton with a weighted tip and a narrow grip. Kessa gave it an experimental turn in her hand, judging the distance to the damaged housing.

"Sorry, Dorran," she whispered. "I'll explain the repairs later."

The creature shifted its weight. Its thick hind legs bent beneath its armored body, and its claws dug into the fractured stone. Kessa didn't wait. She drew back her arm and hurled the baton toward the alarm.

The golden weapon spun through the morning air, catching the sunlight as it passed above the wreckage. Kessa followed its flight, already preparing to summon another sword if the creature lunged. The baton struck the resonant housing with a sharp metallic crack.

For an instant, nothing happened. Then the alarm screamed. Kessa staggered backward, clapping her hands over her ears. The familiar hum had become something entirely different, a piercing, discordant vibration that seemed to pass straight through her skull. The housing blazed with golden light, its fractured surface splitting apart as thin threads of radiance spread across the broken framework.

Her rings answered.

All six.

Kessa stared in horror as the bands around her forearms began to shine, their golden surfaces vibrating against her skin. The sound rose in pitch, filling the terrace with a terrible, overlapping chorus.

"What the..."

She seized one of the rings, trying to silence it as she had done a dozen times that morning.

Nothing.

The creature shrieked. It staggered sideways, shaking its enormous head, then slammed its claws into the ground as though struggling to remain upright. Its black scales caught the strange light, reflecting flashes of gold across the jagged spines of its back.

Kessa tried to dismiss the baton. It remained lodged in the alarm.

"Come on!"

She reached toward it, willing the weapon to dissolve, but the light surrounding the housing only intensified. The air between her and the ruined station began to shimmer, bending the outlines of the broken timbers and distant cliffs.

A deep vibration rose beneath her feet. Kessa looked down. Fine cracks were spreading through the stone. At first they were little more than hairline fractures, branching outward from the damaged station. Then the ground lurched, and a jagged fissure split the terrace between her and the creature.

Kessa stumbled, barely catching herself. The beast roared and sprang backward, its powerful legs launching its enormous body toward the higher ground. But as it leaped, the air around it seemed to ripple. Its dark silhouette stretched strangely against the morning sky, momentarily appearing in two places at once.

Kessa blinked. The creature was still there. And yet, for the briefest instant, she could have sworn she had seen straight through it. The alarm's shriek climbed higher.

Then the world flashed white.

Kessa cried out as a wave of pressure struck her chest. Her six rings blazed with such intensity that she could no longer distinguish their individual shapes. Golden light spilled across her arms, winding around her fingers and stretching outward in thin, trembling strands.

The ruined station vanished behind a curtain of brilliance. For one impossible moment, Kessa felt herself falling while her feet remained firmly planted on the ground. The sea, the cliffs, the shattered alarm, even the enormous creature before her seemed to pull away in different directions.

She tried to scream, but the sound never reached her ears. Then everything snapped back into place.

Silence.

Kessa staggered forward, gasping for breath. The light had disappeared, and the terrible ringing in her ears faded into a dull, distant hum. She looked down at her forearms. The six golden rings were still there, their surfaces dark and motionless.

"What just..."

A tremendous crack interrupted her. The ground shifted beneath her feet. Kessa looked up.

The terrace was breaking apart.

A great section of the cliff had begun to separate from the mainland, its fractured edge widening with every passing heartbeat. The ruined alarm station tilted toward the sea, sending loose stones and shattered timbers tumbling into the open air.

The creature scrambled across the collapsing ground, its massive claws tearing at the stone. It leaped toward a nearby outcrop just as the shelf beneath it gave way. Kessa turned to run. She managed three steps.

The ground disappeared beneath her.

For a moment she hung in the air, arms outstretched, her plum-colored hair whipping across her face. The broken terrace fell away around her, great slabs of stone tumbling toward the water far below. She caught a final glimpse of the creature landing upon a jagged shelf of rock, its enormous body crashing down among the falling debris.

Then Kessa was falling too. The wind tore the breath from her lungs. She reached desperately for something, anything, but there was nothing within her grasp. The cliffs rushed past in a blur of pale stone and dark shadows.

Below her, the sea opened into a vast expanse of blue. She had just enough time to draw one desperate breath.

Then she struck the water.

The impact drove the air from her chest. Cold darkness swallowed her, and for an instant she couldn't tell which way was up. Her limbs refused to obey her, and a sharp pain spread through her body as she sank beneath the surface.

Far above, fading sunlight shimmered through the water. Kessa reached toward it. Her fingers closed around nothing.

And the world went black.