I stared at the monster for another long moment, marveling at its size. It shouldn’t have been beautiful, not a beast so terrifying. Yet I couldn’t seem to tear my gaze away. Not until I heard the sound of horses, of hooves beating against the earth, carrying over the pop of the fires. Zavier and three of his warriors raced away from the camp. A minute later, another rider broke past the fires, racing to catch up. The Guardian. His coal stallion flew across the plain, its rider as graceful in the saddle as the animal itself. Where were they going?
