Angels and Djinn, Book 3: Zariel's Doom by Joseph Robert Lewis

“Raska’s courage aside, I know these hills. We’ve been here before. There are bushes, but none have thorns.”
    Iyasu frowned and looked around as though hoping to discover a thorn bush right there. “But… then what could have…”
    The black stallion looked up sharply and danced lightly on the pebbled ground, then neighed and snorted as he reared up on his hind legs. Rahm fought to keep the horse on all four hooves, but Raska yanked his head free and darted away down the streambed.
    “Raska! Get back here!” the warrior shouted.
    Iyasu moved quickly to Azrael’s side and whispered, “Something is coming.”
    They stood very still and listened, and by small degrees, they began to hear a soft shushing sound in the distance. To the seer, it sounded just like the wind playing through the leaves of a young tree, rustling for a moment and then falling silent, then rustling again, then silence, as it grew louder and closer.
    “What is that?” Hadara asked.
    “Nothing. The wind.” Rahm finally succeeded in grabbing Raska’s halter and dragging the huge destrier back up the streambed, but the animal struggled every step of the way.
    Hadara reached over and drew a long dagger from behind the saddle and spun the curved blade cleverly between her nimble fingers. “It doesn’t sound like the wind to me.”
    “Something’s coming.” Iyasu closed his eyes, trying to focus on the rustling sound. “I can’t tell what.”
    “I’ll go look.” Azrael stepped away from him, but he grabbed her wrist.
    “No, don’t. It could be the djinn.”
    “All the more reason for me to confront them away from you.” She freed herself with a firm push to his arm and started walking up the ravine, approaching the corner that hid the upper stream from view.
    “No, Rael, please!” Iyasu whispered as loudly as he dared. “We don’t know what they’re capable of!”
    “All the more reason,” she repeated.
    The rustling sound grew louder still, and now it no longer slowed or paused, it came on faster and faster, hissing and shushing and clattering as if an avalanche of leaves and grasses were spilling down the mountainside. Iyasu stood still and alone, looking down at the tall warriors and then up at his beloved as she disappeared around the corner out of sight.
    And then the noise stopped.
    “Rael?” Iyasu took a few steps after her. “Rael?”
    There was no answer.
    Swallowing his fear, Iyasu hurried up the streambed as quietly as he could, and a moment later he turned the corner around a large pale boulder and saw Azrael standing in the center of the ravine with the cold, clear water pouring over her sandaled feet. She held her arms out to her sides and was staring straight ahead at something farther upstream.
    The seer peeked out and saw the tumbled remains of a small landslide blocking the ravine, a thick tangle of sun-bleached timbers and thorn bushes, all wrapped in a thick layer of yellow grass and dark green moss. He stepped out into the open, saying, “What are you looking at?”
    “Iyasu, no!”
    The landslide stood up.
    The timbers groaned, the thorn bushes crackled, and the yellow grasses shivered and hissed, and the entire mass of dry, dead things rose up and up, shifting and turning until it all stood together on four thick legs and shook its head crowned in long, deadly thorns. Then the creature opened its wooden jaws and roared.
    Iyasu stood petrified, staring up at the colossal beast armored in brown and gray bark, and armed with slender, needle-like fangs and claws. The monster bellowed from its massive lungs, and when it finally lowered its head, it revealed two tiny green glows above its jaws, two green eyes that might have passed for the soft lights of fireflies to an unwary traveler.
    The creature snapped its jaws at Azrael, but she stood her ground and kept her arms raised, and the beast fell back a step, snarling and shaking its head.
    “Rael, what is it?” he whispered.
    “It’s a taneen,”