Chapter Forty #2
“Truthfully,” she begins slowly, “I’ve been wondering that same question.
I am quite skilled at close-range combat, daggers being my speciality, but I don’t have the strength to decapitate a Blue-Horned Adder.
And if Gray and Marcella couldn’t get their swords through the horn, I worry about our ability to do so as well. ”
“Which means we need a new approach,” I offer.
She nods. “An approach I have yet to identify.”
I drag a hand down my face, blowing out a long sigh.
What can we do? How can I help? Think—I need to think.
I’m not sure how much longer Gray’s magic can hold out, and once it gives, I know Gray is going to be drained. He probably won’t even be able to wield his sword, having lost so much strength, leaving him entirely defenseless against an enraged mammoth-sized snake.
Like hell I am going to let that happen.
With a newfound focus, I scan the scene. Absorb all the details I can, consolidating them into small possibilities.
It seems at some point, Gray dislodged his sword from the Adder’s horn. It lays discarded beside him, coated in dried blue blood. I flick my eyes back to the Adder, a thought taking shape. We couldn’t pierce the horn from the outside, but what if somehow we were able to do so from the inside?
I glance at Nuri. “I think I have an idea,” I say slowly, knowing there’s no way in hell I look confident .
She arches a surprised brow. “Is it a good one?”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not. But it may be the only option we have.”
“What do you need me to do?”
I exhale all the air from my lungs. “To heal me before I die if it all goes to shit.”
“What are you goin—”
Before she can finish her question, I take off on a sprint, reaching for Gray’s sword and plucking it from the ground.
My feet carry me to the Blue-Horn’s tail next, and I crouch down before phase two of my terribly concocted plan can begin.
I throw my hands out, visualize the plant in my head, and pray to the gods that my magic will show up.
A strangled gasp escapes my throat when it does.
I grab as much of the silvery-green leaves as I can, and I stuff the herb into different parts of my clothing to store it until I’m ready.
Then, with a trembling, uncertain breath, I sprint up the Adder’s long, sloped body, just as Gray had done.
Luckily for me, Gray has the Adder frozen mid-lunge, so I don’t have to use daggers to scale its body like he did.
Unluckily for me, however, the incline is still incredibly steep, and I am nowhere near as strong as Gray.
With my calves screaming and my thighs burning, I reach the very top of the Adder. But I walk past the horn, striding to the furthest tip of its flat head, where its fangs rest directly beneath.
My heart hammers in my chest, and every instinct in my body is screaming at me that this is a terrible idea.
But it’s the only one I have, so…
Here goes nothing.
I lower myself into a stabilized crouch—doing my best not to pay attention to how high up from the ground I am—and find a hold on some of the Adder’s armour-like scales.
“Gray!” I shout, cupping my free hand around my mouth. “Gray! Drop the illusion! I have a plan.”
It takes a moment, but eventually, the gold in Gray’s eyes flickers before fading altogether. He snaps into focus, and he locks eyes with me. His expression can only be described as pure horror when he sees where I’m standing, having no idea what I intend to do.
Within seconds, the Blue-Horn regains control of itself, and it finishes its attack at Gray. But the movements are lethargic—sluggish. Because since Gray created a visceral cold response in the Adder, that means the creature is in brumation, making him not as sharp and quick.
Which may just allow me to pull this off.
Gray dodges, having to roll to the side to evade, before getting up immediately and tracking the creature’s movements.
I steady my racing heart, preparing for the next part. But my body locks, not wanting to move or cooperate. Though I can’t say I blame it, considering how reckless this is. But I need to be brave—or at least emulate someone brave, someone strong and capable.
Who can I channel, if only for a moment? Who is someone that could do this without question? Who can I be like in this moment that would give me strength?
For some reason, Draven’s face is the one that enters my mind.
And so I allow it to stay there. What would he do?
He would charge forward with a quiet arrogance, knowing that he would win. And he would never look back.
I never lose .
Fuck it.
Without another thought, I reach down and jab my fist into the Adder’s nostril, immediately enraging the giant creature.
It lets out a sharp hiss . Knowing what happened to Marcella when she angered the Adder, I brace myself for it, bending my knees, making sure my sword is gripped tightly in one hand, and the herbs are secured in the other.
Then, I blow out the breath that could very well be my last.
The Blue-Horn lurches its head back, but I am prepared for the motion.
The moment I feel the creature coil, ready to fling me, I gather all the strength I can possibly muster into my already screaming legs and grip the herbs.
And when it rears its body backwards, I propel myself upright, jumping as high as I possibly can from the ledge of its flat head—which, even when paired with the boost of momentum from the Adder, is not really that impressive.
I’m sent soaring, weightless, and the Adder tracks me immediately. It unhinges its terrifying jaws, exposing its cavernous pink throat.
Onto phase three.
As I begin descending from the sky, I clutch onto the tightly bundled herbs in my hand, wind my arm back, and hurl them toward the back of the creature’s throat.
They strike true, and the Blue-Horn lets out a wet, choking gag before it slams its jaws shut, locking me inside in a blanket of darkness.
I land hard against slick flesh—my breath heaving, the scent of musk and decay clogging my throat. I reach for something as the creature swallows—for anything —but my fingers grasp only air.
I slide backward.
I kick out, clawing, but gravity drags me toward the abyss of its stomach. And I am seconds away from being consumed whole—
But then the Adder’s body seizes, and its jaw snaps open with a violent retch. The creature shudders as it starts to gag and heave.
Blue-Horned Adders abhor Mugwort more than anything else, and I just sent bundles of it flying down its throat.
I cling to the shifting flesh beneath me, steadying myself as the creature writhes, unable to shut its locked jaw. Between its slowed movements from brumation and the uncontrollable gagging, it is completely vulnerable.
And I am exactly where it never expected me to be—a place where there are no armor-like scales. Where it can’t just fling me through the air.
But the Adder thrashes wildly, and I can’t find my balance. Until suddenly—
It halts.
As if something has leashed it, anchoring it in place.
I whip my head to the side, and my chest tightens at what I see.
Marcella stands below, arms outstretched and green-veined, palms open, eyes burning with iron resolve as a cold rage lines her still-bloodied face. Vines and branches whip from the ground and weave around the Adder’s massive body, locking around it, holding it in place and containing its movements.
She slides her gaze to me and nods. Once, but steady.
And that is all I need.
I inhale, centering myself as I reach for that last bout of strength. My fingers curl around the hilt of Gray’s longsword and squeeze.
With a defiant scream—a cry that rises from my gut, tearing through my lungs—and all the strength my beaten body can muster, I plunge the blade into the roof of the Adder’s mouth, straight through the center of its horn.
The creature stills.
And I hold my breath.
Until a violent tremor rips through its massive frame, and its body gives out—crumpling in on itself, collapsing toward the ground, bringing me crashing down with it.
The ground quakes beneath the impact, a resounding boom echoing into the night as dust and debris explode outward, curling into the charcoal sky like a passing ghost.
And then there’s silence.
Utter, ringing silence.
Until something moves, crawling from the ashes.
But the movement does not come from the Adder. Instead, it is the shadow of my own tattered body dragging itself free.
Because the creature is dead.
And I am still standing.