Free The Realms of the Gods by Tamora Pierce

sling one-handed. Still retreating, she took the time to do it right; sloppy work now would kill her. When the tauros advanced, she loaded a rock and began to twirl. The circles of her wrist and elbow were broad now; her sense of when to release was exact. She let fly.
    Her stone hit the tauros in the throat. His bellow was a strangled croak; he dropped to his knees with a splash, scrabbling at his neck. Dripping sweat, the girl flipped her sling into place and loaded her final rock.
    The tauros lurched to his feet, wheezing. He stumbled forward, flat teeth bared.
    â€œDon’t,” she called, lips quivering. She didn’t want to kill a beast who could no more help his nature than she could. “Give up, please!”
    He roared and came on, the ground quivering under his weight. When he was six yards from her, she loosed her final shot with all her strength. It slammed between his eyes and stayed, embedded in his skull. The tauros gasped, flailed blindly, and toppled into the mud. There he thrashed, and choked, and died.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she cried, eyes overflowing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. . . .”
    Broad Foot surfaced nearby, plainly upset. “What happened? If I’d known that a tauros was about, I wouldn’t have brought you here! Where did it come from?”
    â€œIt crossed between realms,” she replied, still trembling. “I think it may’ve been sent. I had a vision of Ozorne, anyway, right before it came.”
    â€œBut how did he know where you are?”
    â€œI’ve no idea.”
    â€œAnd why do you weep? You’ve killed before.”
    â€œAnd I hate it!” she cried. “Especially when this poor, idiot thing couldn’t do no different!” She tried togather her things, and dumped them into the mud. “Look at him—what else is he made for but to prey on females? Are there any lady tauroses?”
    â€œNo. No, there aren’t.”
    â€œWonderful! No one cared enough to give them mates of their own kind. All they know to do is grab two-legger females. They either kill them or get killed themselves. It’s wrong!” Pulling her belongings from the mud, she ran to her parents’ house.
    Broad Foot eyed the dead tauros. “She has a point,” he told it. “Someone ought to bring the matter to the Great Gods’ attention—once things quiet down a bit.”

    Halfway to her parents’ home, the girl paused: A Stormwing awaited her there. She hesitated only for a moment, then re-formed her towel-sling and grabbed stones for ammunition. If that Stormwing was an enemy, he or she had a surprise coming!
    Emerging from the cover of the trees, she saw that her father and Numair were seated on the slab of rock that served the cottage as a doorstep. The immortal she had detected stood on the ground before them. He turned as she approached, his movement setting the bones that were braided into his long, blond hair to clicking.
    Daine relaxed and tossed her rocks aside. She wouldn’t need them for Rikash Moonsword.
    â€œWhat happened to you?” asked the green-eyed Stormwing as Broad Foot appeared on the path between him and the men. Numair got to his feet, frowning.
    â€œBroad Foot will explain,” Daine said, weaving between the mage and her father. “I need to clean up.”
    She scrubbed, then pulled on clean garments with hands that still trembled. As she was combing out her hair, Sarra knocked on the door. “We’re having lunch in the garden,” she called. “If you’re decent, come take a perch out for your Stormwing friend to sit on.”
    Quickly the girl finished. Feeling calmer now, she did as she was told. Once she’d set up the perch by the outdoor table, Rikash glided down from the rooftop and took his place. For the moment they were alone. Numair and Weiryn were nowhere in sight.
    â€œYou let me down,” the girl told the