The Wonder (Queen of Hearts Saga #2)(4)

Dinah could feel her chest compressing with fear as the bear’s roars shook the statue. She leaned over the edge of the statue, her face low, the sword raised above her head. “I’m here!” she screamed. “Come and get me!” The bear gave her a confused look, its milky eyes focusing on her. Its jaws opened and it let out a loud roar before charging the bottom of the statue. It hadn’t taken the bait, and Dinah braced herself for another impact. The statue gave another violent lurch when the bear’s bulky body rammed against it. There was a moment when she thought the statue would stay upright, when it teetered on the edge of falling and staying, but then Dinah was flying through the air and the sword dropped from her hand. She landed hard on her side and rolled into the deep grasses. She barely had time to look up before the bear was charging again. There was nothing she could do. She closed her eyes and waited for the attack.

It didn’t come.

Dinah opened her eyes. The bear was only about ten feet away from her, but it was crouched and still, the fur on its back raised up into a straight line. A thud echoed behind her, and Dinah turned her head. There stood Morte, his huge spiked hooves pawing the ground lustily. The bear began to pace back and forth as he eyed Morte’s ten thousand pounds of delicious horse meat, but he was also eyeing the bony spikes that protruded from his hooves. Even a white bear had to think twice before attacking Morte. Dinah began slowly crawling backward, until Morte stood between her and the bear, which did not seem to notice her anymore.

The air stopped moving and for a second the valley of heads lay perfectly still, its grasses bent lazily over their stems. The forest held its breath. Dinah saw the sunlight glinting off her sword handle. It lay next to the bear, who was swiping the ground in front of it with a fluid sideways motion, creating a small cloud of dirt. Morte let a long hiss of steam radiate out from his nostrils.

With a roar, the bear charged, and Morte as well. They met in the middle with a terrible clash of claws and bone. They swiped and danced, both bleeding quickly—the bear from its face, and Morte from his side. Together they were tangled, chest to chest. The bear reared up on its hind legs and brought its claws down on Morte’s side. The Hornhoov let out a high-pitched scream as the bear sunk his teeth into the horse’s exposed chest, tearing off a large chunk of skin. Morte kicked the bear square in the chest before giving a great shake. Both the horse and the bear separated and charged again, tumbling to the ground in a flurry of thunder and blood. Morte landed on top this time and quickly reared himself up onto his back legs before bringing his massive hooves down onto the bear’s torso. Dinah heard a sickening crunch as the weight of the hooves and the bone spikes crushed the bear’s ribs and chest. Morte was stomping him to death.

The bear’s massive paw swiped at Morte, tearing jagged stripes across his muzzle. Morte stepped backward, shaking his head. The bear rolled over with a roar and righted himself. His walk was unsteady, and blood flowed freely from his gut. Morte was circling the bear now, letting out angry snorts as flecks of blood flew from his mouth. The bear lumbered sideways and then raced toward his opponent again. The Hornhoov spun around, but the bear latched onto Morte’s hindquarters. As the bear’s teeth sank deep into Morte’s flank and his claws tore red gashes down Morte’s thighs, the massive steed let out a scream.

Unable to shake the bear by turning, Morte pushed up on his front legs. The bear lost his hold. With a strong kick of his back legs, Morte caught the bear square in the neck and sent the blood-covered beast sprawling backward.

In the sunlight, Morte’s muscles pulsed and rippled with pleasure—it was obvious to Dinah that though he was injured, he was enjoying the fight. He whinnied happily as he paced the ground, even when his flank and chest were now exposed and bleeding. His crazed lust for fighting filled the air, a palpable stench. He turned to reposition himself. In that moment, Dinah saw instantly why the white bear would lose—the bear was acting out of instinct, out of hunger. His need was natural. Morte saw this as a battle—his brain was strategizing as they fought, and even though the bear outweighed him, Morte was adapting.

The bear charged again, but this time Morte was ready. Just as the bear reached him, Morte reared up and brought the bone spikes that surrounded his hooves straight up into the bear’s neck and face. The bear let out a terrible whine as Morte forced him down to the ground and delicately detached his hooves. Morte tilted his head and looked at the bear before he reared up once more and brought his hooves crashing down on the beast’s chest.

Dinah looked away. The creature was now utterly unrecognizable as a tangled heap of white and red. Morte stepped back and let out a bellow. It was a deep, terrible sound, a war cry, and it chilled Dinah to the bone. Morte began galloping wildly around his kill. The bear’s body shifted, and Dinah watched its exposed ribs give a final shudder before the bear gave up his life.

Dinah stood quietly in the grass, her eyes trained on Morte, more afraid of him than she ever had been. Morte didn’t even seem to notice her as he buried his head deep into the bear’s belly and began eating. Dinah felt a wave of revulsion wash over her. She had forgotten that Hornhooves sometimes ate their kills. They were as satisfied with flesh and bone as they were with grass and grain. With her hand pressed over her mouth, she turned away and walked back toward the overturned head of the Yurkei chief. Giant slashes lingered where the bear had ripped its claws across the stone. Dinah let out a long breath, suddenly aware of how close she had come to being maimed and eaten herself. This was the second time that Morte had saved her life.