The ridge climbed in loose, broken stages, scree giving way to bare rock and back to scree, and Vhar read the terrain the way Riona had described it: nothing that offered cover so much as nothing that denied it either.
Nyra kept to the firmer ground on the left, Thronebreak carried low and ready rather than slung. "This is the kind of slope something with reach doesn’t need to hide on. It just needs height."
"We don’t give it height for free." Vhar angled their path toward a shelf of exposed stone that broke the line of sight from above. "Make it come to us on ground it has to choose."
The climb had gone quiet in a way that felt deliberate rather than empty. No scavengers worked the lower slopes the way they’d worked the drainage cut below the quarry weeks earlier, no birds crossed the open air above the ridge line, and the wind itself seemed to move around the higher rock rather than through it. Ground that quiet usually had a reason for staying that way.
They’d covered perhaps sixty meters of the shelf when the first stone came loose above them, small, deliberate, too controlled to be a natural slip.
Vhar was already moving when the second one followed a heartbeat later, larger, aimed rather than dislodged. He caught Nyra’s shoulder and pulled her sideways as a shape came off the higher rock at an angle no falling body should have managed, four limbs finding purchase against a near-vertical face before launching clear of it entirely.
It came down between them and the shelf’s only cover, cutting the retreat before either of them chose a direction.
The animal matched nothing in Vhar’s Academy records. It had long limbs and a low chest. Wet-stone hide covered its body, marked by pale scars where other claws had failed to cut through. Its jaw worked on several separate hinges as it tested the shelf around it.
"Same weight as the prints," Nyra said, backing half a step without taking her eyes off it. "It’s bigger than that number should feel."
"Everything’s bigger up close." Vhar put himself between it and Nyra’s retreat line without seeming to decide to. "Stay wide. Don’t let it choose which of us it commits to."
The animal didn’t charge. It circled instead, unhurried, testing the ground with a foreleg before trusting weight to it, exactly the way Nyra had read the trail two days running.
It crossed the shelf in one leap and landed inside Vhar’s reach.
Vhar met the strike rather than gave ground, driving his forearm up into the incoming foreleg before its claws found him.
CRACK!
The impact rang through Vhar’s forearm. The animal’s foreleg bent, sprang back, and absorbed the blow. Vhar planted his boots for the second strike. It came faster from the other side. He blocked it with the same forearm.
Nyra came in from the flank while it was still committed to Vhar, Thronebreak’s point aimed at the joint behind the foreleg where the hide’s pale scarring ran thinnest.
The spear connected.
THUD!
It didn’t go through. The point skated along a surface harder than it had any right to be at that exact angle, and the animal’s tail whipped around fast enough that Nyra had to drop flat to keep it from taking her across the ribs.
"It reads the strike," she said, rolling clear and back to her feet in the same motion. "Not the weapon. The angle."
"We stop giving it a clean one." Vhar closed again while its stance was still unsettled, driving a palm into its shoulder joint rather than the armored flank, aiming for the same working hinge its own head kept favoring.
BOOM!
The joint held, but the animal staggered sideways. One limb buckled before it caught itself against the rock. It stepped backward for the first time.
It didn’t retreat far. It turned, reassessed, and came again low, aiming beneath Vhar’s guard for his legs rather than repeating the same angle twice.
He read the change and met it anyway, catching the foreleg’s strike on his shin rather than his knee, feeding the impact into bone dense enough to take it without buckling. The leg held under him without complaint. The animal was already circling for a third approach before Vhar had finished resetting his weight toward it.
Nyra used the opening. She drove Thronebreak’s haft rather than its point into the same shoulder joint Vhar had already staggered, adding weight to a hinge that had already taken one hit it hadn’t fully recovered from.
CRACK!
The shoulder joint slipped out of alignment without breaking. Its next stride shortened on that side. It snapped its head toward Nyra, and she barely cleared the strike zone before its jaw closed on the air beside her shoulder.
"It’s learning which of us costs it more to ignore," Vhar said.
"Make it decide wrong." Nyra kept moving, refusing to plant her feet long enough to become the easier answer.
The animal drove its head at Vhar’s stomach instead of using the damaged foreleg. He caught the blow on both forearms. Scree cratered under his boots. The jaws snapped at his ribs. Nyra drove Thronebreak across its snout and knocked the bite aside.
THUD!
It reared back from the spear rather than press through a stance that hadn’t moved.
The animal shifted its weight toward Nyra, then back to Vhar. Vhar stepped in and drove his fist into the damaged shoulder a third time.
BOOM!
The joint buckled fully this time, the whole foreleg folding under weight it could no longer carry cleanly, and for one clear moment the animal was exposed in a way it hadn’t been since it dropped between them.
The animal broke uphill. Its injured leg shortened one stride, then it cleared the ridge crest before Vhar could close the gap.
Vhar didn’t follow. Chasing an animal that had already proven it could choose its own ground when it wanted to wasn’t worth whatever advantage a few more meters of pursuit might buy.
He walked to the place where it had launched. Four claw marks cut across the shelf’s edge. The stone around them had fractured in thin spokes, and a smear of dark fluid clung to one crack where the damaged shoulder had struck rock on the way uphill.
Nyra crouched beside him without lowering Thronebreak. "Blood?"
"Not ours." Vhar touched none of it. The smear smelled of wet stone and iron. "It landed hard after the joint folded."
"It is hurt enough to leave a trail."
"It is hurt enough to change its next attack. That matters more." He looked from the claw marks to the high rock. "A wounded animal that thinks will not repeat the ground where it lost."
Nyra took a strip of cloth from her sleeve, marked the crack with charcoal, and tied the cloth around a low stone. "Riona gets the exact shelf. Tavik gets the report. Nobody comes up here alone."
"It’s hurt," Nyra said, breathing hard, Thronebreak still raised toward the empty crest.
"The shoulder forced it uphill. When the joint heals, the animal will use that leg again." Vhar rolled his shoulder. "It attacked first to measure us before it committed to a longer fight."
"And now it knows."
"Now it knows we can dislocate that shoulder." Vhar looked toward the crest. "When it attacks again, the animal will guard the joint or use another angle."
Nyra lowered the spear slowly, scanning the broken rock above them for any further motion. Nothing came.
"We’d better be somewhere it can’t choose the ground next time," she said, "because I don’t think it’s going to give us the option of walking away from the next one."
"We won’t get one anyway, not without knowing more than we do now." Vhar closed his fist twice, watching the crest rather than his own hand. "It’s not just protecting territory. It circled twice before committing, tried three different angles once it did, and pulled back the moment the cost stopped being worth it. Instinct doesn’t weigh options like that. Judgment does."
Nyra’s grip tightened on Thronebreak’s haft. "It will remember the spear, the shoulder, and the shelf."
"Which is why we’re not climbing that ridge again until we know what’s waiting past it, and why it’s spending that much thought on two people who haven’t even found where it actually lives yet." He looked toward the crest one more time, where the light had already started shifting gold across the broken stone. "Riona said her people never went further than the contract line. We’re past every line anyone’s drawn now."
Vhar’s Uvar reserve had thinned more than the fight alone explained. At that height, standing still and breathing had returned almost nothing.
"We go back and tell her what we found before we go any further past it." Nyra checked Thronebreak’s head for damage before sliding it back into its sheath, methodical about it in a way that told Vhar she was working through something beyond the immediate fight. "There’s a piece of this I can’t chase from here. The ledger’s unnamed buyer answers to the quarry crew’s own business, not this ridge."
He didn’t ask her to explain that yet. What she’d pieced together about the buyer could wait until they’d put solid ground between themselves and whatever was still watching this shelf from somewhere higher up.
They stood together at the edge of the shelf a while longer, watching a ridge that had already proven it could hide something large enough to nearly kill either of them, and neither moved to climb it until the light itself started to change.