Alara Unbroken - Doug Beyer [3]
Ajani recovered his warrior’s stance, brought his axe back, and thrust the weapon into the beast’s shoulder as its tusks whizzed by. The graze broke the rubbery skin, but the beast’s hide was so thick, he saw only the pinkish white of blubber. Again, he had drawn no real blood—only its ire.
With a snap of its head, the gargantuan brought its tusks back around toward him. Ajani retreated frantically to his hiding place, but with two sharp swings of its tusks, the beast shredded the stand of small trees. Ajani’s back bumped into a thick trunk. He charged at the broad head before him with his axe, but the behemoth butted its head directly into the blow, tangling the shaft of the weapon amid its tusks and ripping it from Ajani’s grasp. Both beast and hunter shifted back with the new development, and Ajani saw that the handle of the weapon was caught fast in the beast. Empty-handed and lacking the next strategy, he froze.
The behemoth grunted and shook its head violently, trying to free the object from its tusks. It succeeded, flinging the axe almost straight up, the blade turning end over end. Ajani’s prized weapon became snarled high in the foliage above.
The beast roared and squared off facing Ajani. Its mouth was open wide, and Ajani could feel its hot, rank breath on his face. As it reared up, Ajani knew he could be trampled or gored with equal facility. He bore no more defense than the shrubs the beast ate for lunch. As it lunged down at him, he instinctively leaped up high enough to dig his claws into the gargantuan’s muzzle. He scrambled up onto its head, grabbing great handfuls of bristle as he climbed, and tucked himself into the shaggy moss around its neck.
The gargantuan let out a bellow that rattled Ajani’s bones, a bellow he was sure could be heard all the way back at his pride’s den. The beast thrashed its head, but at the nape of its neck, Ajani was safe from its tusks, and he clung on.
What was he supposed to do? Ajani knew if he could just land a good blow in one of the beast’s eyes, or maybe hit a sensitive vein, he could weaken it just enough to fell it for good. But he had no way to get through. The little bone knife at his side wouldn’t do anything to the creature’s hide, nor would his teeth or claws. He needed the cutting power of his axe. He scanned the canopy above and found the axe resting in the crook of a tree branch. It was too high to reach, even with a leap, and he wouldn’t be able to get a good jump for it with the gargantuan thrashing. Dying all alone on the back of a shaggy behemoth seemed no way to earn the pride’s respect.
The beast was insane with rage. It thrashed, crashing through a stand of tree trunks that broke like kindling. “So much for a dead end,” Ajani muttered, hanging on. The behemoth tried a new strategy: slamming its front haunches into the ground in an attempt to buck Ajani off.
Ajani felt the rhythm of the rearing beast. Something clicked—that was the solution. If he could time it right …
The beast bucked with all its might as Ajani let go, sending him flying up in the same direction as his axe had flown before. He hurtled toward the canopy and crashed into the branch that held his axe, just managing to grab on to something. But he hadn’t grabbed the branch—he had grabbed the axe handle, the head dangerously toward him, and the end snagged between two heavy limbs. When his weight lurched down on it, the wooden handle bowed between the branches. There was a sickening crack, and the axe handle snapped.
With the splintered axe in his hand, Ajani fell.
BANT
Too easy,” muttered Gwafa Hazid, as he shined