Page 50 - Microsoft Word - FANG EMPIRE - NOVEL.docx

escape the dramatic sparks on three sides of her. The hunters were careful to leave an escape route.

Disoriented, she fled headlong toward Cane and Raki and the nets. They waited for the right

moment, and then pulled the spikes from the ground, releasing the spring-loaded device that shot

the nets high into the air just as Sygnosis leapt into range. She was caught in mid-air by the net.

She struggled to free herself but the sticky, black molasses entangled her like a moth in a spider

web. The hunters grabbed the ends of the net and ran toward each other in choreographed circles

until the net was tightly wrapped around Sygnosis multiple times. She screeched at the moon, a

creature of the night. But at long last, she was theirs.

The Saharan sun hovered in the sky like a hungry vulture; a firebird, waiting for Zuba and

his hunters to expire after three hard days of riding and a night lost in a storm. The firebird

punished them for not bringing enough food and water. In their rush to save their prince, they

didn’t think to save themselves. Tired, hungry and thirsty, they lumbered forward. So committed

to completing their mission, they fed their horses the little nourishment they had left.

Sygnosis was wrapped like a cocooned larva in the molasses net and slung over Zuba’s

horse. He looked out over the desert vista toward the royal tent camp. Suddenly, his expression

turned to shock and dismay. The great tent was demolished. Strips of fabric blew in the wind on

their broken mounting rods like torn flags after a battle. The hunters looked on in despair. Zuba

kicked his horse to a gallop. They rode toward the camp. They arrived, jumped from their mounts

and ran toward the shredded shelter. Zuba knelt down and grabbed a handful of bloodstained sand.

“My queen! My prince! I have failed you! He fell into the sand face down. Cane and Raki

knelt then fell flat into the sand next to Zuba. Several torturous moments passed. Then, a voice

was heard . . .

“Rise, eaters of sand!”

The hunters lifted their sand-covered faces to see a rider on a camel. They squinted and

strained in the blinding sun to see his face.

They spit out the sand. “We will fight!” Zuba shouted with a rebel yell.

“You have no weapons,” said the rider calmly.