They will not steal our secret.

Inscription at the entrance of the Temple of Ascension, Duul.

Several darts shot towards them. Ysbra ducked with feline agility and Derren had to duck to the side to avoid the sharp wave. The dragonfly's shadow passed over them, fleeting as a projectile. It landed at the other end of the bluff, where its nest was.

Black as coal, its fur did not leave a single gap where skin or shell could be distinguished. Its legs were more of the same, strong and hairy, ending in claws as sharp as razor blades. The triangular skull ended in a grayish snout that sniffed at the stones of its empty nest. Underneath, sprouting from its body like roots, two solid pincers moved slowly opening and closing.

It thrust one of the stones between his blades and it exploded into a thousand pieces. Then it raised its head with two sallow eyes that looked around with restrained rage. Have you lost something? thought Derren. He swallowed saliva. He noticed his sweaty hand on the hilt. Here we go. Then the beast gave a screeching sound that nearly made Derren soil his pants.

The monster galloped out at a full gallop towards them. Ysbra did not hesitate for a moment to go out to meet it, promising a painful head–on collision. Derren followed suit, locking his aim on the beast's right flank. The huntress threw herself to avoid the onslaught, lying flat on her back and skidding under the thing's belly. She raised her sword to pierce its trunk, but the blade collided with something as hard as a mountain.

Derren leapt up with a flashy acrobatic leap and drove the helienum into the top of a hind leg. The blade stuck very shallowly, opening a small gash in the monster's thick flesh. He had to use all his strength to pull it out and regain a defensive position.

The sides were reversed. He and Ysbra were now at the end of the empty nest. The dragonfly opened its snouts showing several rows of sharp yellow teeth on which a purplish forked tongue licked. Its jaw seemed to suddenly unhinge, as with a vibrating screech it launched two dozen stingers.

The hunters dodged them again, albeit by the skin of their teeth. As they rolled, each to one side, the dragonfly swooped down on them, flying low to the ground. Causing the weeds to lie down in fright and the stones to roll hurriedly out of the way.

The close buzzing sound was deafening and Derren had to force himself not to cover his ears. He couldn't afford to let go of his catana. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the beast lean to its left, where Ysbra was already waiting on guard.

This time the huntress jumped and managed to avoid the onslaught of the bug, which passed underneath. She took the opportunity to rip a transparent wing with her saber. Its flight seemed to stutter for an instant, then it made a tight turn at a furious speed, before Ysbra even touched the ground.

Derren sucked in a big breath of air and rushed forward to try to mediate the assault, but quickly realized he would not make it in time. It was no use. The bug caught the huntress with its claws and smashed her to the ground, sending several rocky splinters flying through the air. Ysbra tried to get away, but the beast had colossal strength.

Derren's helienum impacted against the claw, barely digging a few fingers into the dragonfly's rough skin. He withdrew the blade quickly and drops of dark red blood trickled down its edge. The bug's skull swiveled toward the hunter who watched as the pincers lunged at him. He dodged the attack briskly, forcing himself to retreat.

Ysbra growled in despair. Derren went back to the charge. As long as he kept it busy, Ysbra would still have a chance to get out of her predicament.

The helienum, the sharpest material Derren had ever tasted, barely made it through the tough layer of black skin. What else could he do? Where was his weak spot? He opted to take a gamble.

The dragonfly lay still, imprisoning its Serpentia companion with one leg. It ran desperately, screaming at the top of its lungs. He dodged two clumsy but fierce claws. The hail of stingers forced him to swerve from his trajectory and circle around. He jumped from the side and managed to hang on to a wing. It began to shake so fast that Derren felt like he was in the middle of an earthquake. He had no choice but to let go and fall backwards, windmilling the catana to defend himself from a possible claw.

The blow was dull and painless. Adrenaline protected him from end to end. He sat up as soon as he touched the ground and turned instantly. That served to verify that the dragonfly's pincers were going to split him in two. He managed to oppose his weapon at the last second, thus preventing the pincers from coming together. That saved him from ending up in two halves, but he felt a blade plunge between his ribs. A biting cold made him let out a moan. A moan with which his strength escaped. His chances. His hopes.

Everything seemed finished. And when everything seems finished, strange things happen.

The cold gave way to warmth. The icy breath of death receded with a fiery surge of enthusiasm. What was it? Was it his survival instinct?

He managed to turn his head and then he saw it. The eyes. The fire. The demon.

His certainties were reduced to ashes. Beliefs that he had always rejected were torn down by the walls of reason. Logic gave way to mysticism. And there, firm and standing, flamed the hope of the two hunters. A demon in a girl's body.

Fire was coming out of her hands. The flames took over the air and stole the sky color from the firmament. Orange circles of flame floated above their heads. A flaming ceiling prevented the monster from taking flight and walls of fire imprisoned it on the barren summit of the bluff. The dragonfly was paralyzed.

Demi held out her hands and a sudden flare erupted from them, shooting toward the bug, which bellowed upon impact. A red wave spread across its hairy body, wrapping it in the scorching embrace of a fiery blanket.

The pincers released Derren who fell to the ground, this time feeling the pain multiplied. The claws released Ysbra who hurried away, feeling the suffocating heat emanating from the flames so close. But there was no escape from the fiery prison. The bellowing intensified into agonizing screeches that made the hunter's skin crawl. The dragonfly was already writhing without wings and with half of its body charred. Little by little, the fire finished spreading and the noise died down. Then the crackling of the flames died down. And then, silence. There was nothing left of the dragonfly. Nothing but ashes.

Derren exchanged a fleeting glance with Ysbra, and then they both looked at the girl. She looked up at them, her features hardened and a red spot in each of her gray eyes. Derren was shaken by a shiver, remembering the words of the Drengs' villagers. Would they be right, a demon?

He was reassured when he saw the girl regain her natural features. Demi's eyes closed, her knees buckled and she fell forward. The hunter lunged toward her to hold her down.

Ysbra still could not believe what she had just seen.

“It's a... She's a... She's a daughter of the guardians,” she finally stammered, dumbfounded.

“What?” Derren sketched, not understanding, or perhaps, not wanting to.

“Heterochromia.”