Chapter 16
Sixteen
No wonder Mina hadn’t scented fresh kills. No wonder the wendigos had been so afraid. “It must have been hibernating before.” Otherwise she would have heard the basilisk’s scales crackling, its slightest movements.
“We need to work together to get out of here,” the sorcerer said. “You think you can keep from attacking me?”
“You need my senses to escape this cavern system. I have no equivalent use for you.”
“I know a lot about Nightside and about the plague. I’ll tell you more on the other side.”
He reminded her of Lothaire, withholding information for his own gain. But what if Silt held the key to her escape?
A loud roar trumpeted and pounding footsteps quickened in their direction. The basilisk had locked in on them.
“Fine,” Mina said. “I’ll refrain from killing you for now.”
“Good enough. The creature probably knows of an intersection to reach this cavern. Let’s go.” They started running together?—
Rock exploded just ahead of them; a giant head had burst through the very wall!
Silt muttered, “Or it could make an intersection.”
The mammoth beast had blazing green skin, and its slit-pupiled eyes were putrid yellow—the color of sickness. A true ghoul basilisk.
It seemed to be stuck in the rock, but its head stretched nearly the width of the cave. When it snapped dripping fangs, each one longer than her forearm, she buried her shock and readied to strike.
“Ah-ah.” Silt shook his head. “We’ll just anger it. To fell it for good, we’d have to hack through its meaty neck with inferior weapons.”
“Speaking of inferior weapons—use your sand. Blind it.” When he made no move to, she said, “Are you still drained from that paltry platform? That was days ago!”
“My powers are temperamental right now.”
“So is the dragon, Silt.” It lunged against the rock’s hold, widening the opening around its neck, turning to them with a drooling snarl. “We should go back the way we came.”
“Return to wendigo territory? Not a chance.”
“There might not be another way out, and then we’ll be trapped with a creature desperate to unleash its contagion.” A single bite or scratch equaled doom. Kind of like the vampire plague.
“With your senses, we’ll find our way,” Silt insisted. “For now, move slowly against the wall. Don’t even breathe.”
After a beat, she muttered, “Very well.” As she sidled along the wall, the dragon’s nauseating scent threatened to overwhelm her.
It lunged again, couldn’t quite reach her. Hindered by the rock, it jabbed its forked tongue out at her; she raised her arm to block the blow, striking the slime-covered tongue with her other hand. “Enough!”
The dragon didn’t listen. It curled its lips outward like rotting pincers. A hair’s breadth separated her from those dripping lips.
When it failed to snag her, it roared again, spraying her face with spittle. She gagged when its rancid breath wafted her hair all around to stick to her coated cheeks. Had some of it gotten inside her mouth? She spat frantically, reminding herself, Bite or scratch, bite or scratch .
The sorcerer read her fears. “You won’t turn from that.” He wasn’t far behind her.
“How is this creature even possible?” She’d never read about animals being turned.
“It was transformed the same as we would be. The undead rule here. This is their realm.”
She eased past its reach, earning another roar. Swiping her slimy hair from her eyes, she gauged Silt’s progress. Halfway across.
The basilisk yanked its head side to side, breaking through more rock. Mouth wide, it struck with a serpent’s speed?—
At the last second, the sorcerer dove out of the way, just as the dragon’s fangs snapped closed.
Silt muttered a curse at the near miss.
Mina heard the beast swat its tail in frustration, making rocks rain from the ceiling. Then it snatched its head back and started running in a cavern bordering theirs.
“Where’s it going, sorcerer?”
“We need to get ahead of it!” Silt grabbed her hand, and a tremor of . . . something passed between them as they sprinted together. “Find us a way out of here, vampire.”
She inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the foul spittle coating her. Concentrate. Sort the threads. She detected a welcome smell. “I’ve picked up fresh air! But it’s some distance away.”
“We’ll make it!” He squeezed her hand; she squeezed his back; then they scowled at each other and yanked their hands away.
The dragon pursued a parallel track. Intermittent roars spurred Mina and Silt as they sped around corners. At each cavern intersection, she selected a direction—while wondering if she was leading them right back into danger.
“You still think I should forgive your brother for putting me here?” the sorcerer said. “A ghoul dragon bears down on us, but water under the bridge, Mirceo .”
Never slowing, she said, “What’s done is done. You made that vow, can’t ever reverse it.” Illogical dolt.
“If Mirceo’s so wonderful, why would he let you go out into the mortal realm to get clawed and hell-bound?” Even as they ran, Silt frowned. “And why would you be there if not to hunt prey? You weren’t worried about falling ill?”
She would never tell him about her mist, the mist that no longer worked because the plague was altering her, making her less Dacian. I am turning into a monster. “My uncle Lothaire dispatched me on a mission when Mirceo was away.” And the entire trajectory of her life had changed.
“Lothaire? The Enemy of Old is your uncle? That explains a lot.”
She paused at another intersection, heading right—only to backtrack left.
Silt’s brows drew together, but he gamely followed. “Ages ago, Lothaire tried to get me to sign his ledger. He’s a Horde vampire.”
“Half Dacian.” At the last second, she leapt over a hole in the cavern floor, trying not to think about the fact that she’d spied no bottom to it. “And now he’s our king.”
“I heard he got planted in the earth like a seed.”
“Yes, for centuries.” How Lothaire had retained any sanity was a miracle. “But he rose once more.”
“You have a lot of nerve to talk about my stronghold’s defenses. A red-eyed leech conquered you!”
“We invited him. He’s the last of the House of Old, the traditional ruling house of Dacia. Now the other royal houses can finally know peace after ages of infighting for the throne.”
“Invited?” The sorcerer glanced back, appearing satisfied by their lead. “Then your people were conquered by your own foolishness.”
“We had to do something. You wouldn’t understand.” Fleeing a ghoul basilisk wasn’t the time to explain three thousand years of Dacian history to this male, even if she were so inclined.
“Royal intrigues are beyond a lowly sorcerer’s comprehension?” This seemed to incense him.
“Just drop it.”
“How do you think your brother will locate you here anyway? Nightside has never been found.”
“He has ways and powerful allies. My uncles—a cadre of warriors with many talents—will assist him. At the very least, Mirceo will get himself captured and condemned here.”
“He’d do that for you?”
She nodded easily. “Just as I would for him. What people like you never realize is that devotion to others isn’t a weakness; it’s strength.”
Silt disagreed. Devotion involved trust; trust was absolutely a weakness. “Still won’t divulge how Mirceo breached my defenses? Since we’re about to die and all.”
With sudden insight, she said, “That’s why you hate him so much. Such a young vampire bested your greatest efforts, and you can’t stand it.”
“I’m sure you like being bested. Enjoy getting outwitted, do you?”
“I wouldn’t know—it’s never happened!”
He grew quiet, and what looked like an involuntary smile curved his lips.
She dragged her gaze away when strobing light drew her attention. Bolts flashed from outside! “Look, sorcerer, we’re close.” The night sky called them forth. The rain had slowed to a drizzle. On solid ground, they could gain ground .
“I see it!”
They careened out of the tunnel into the night. Beneath their feet was a smooth black surface. Not soil. Not rock.
Craaack.
“Freeze!” Silt yelled.
She stilled, not moving a muscle. And yet . . . craaack. “It’s shattering. It’s some kind of crystal surface.”
“It forms over lava tubes.”
Pardon? “Are we above a boiling pit?”
“Likely. On the count of three, we each leap to the side.” He held her gaze, his expression determined. “One, two, thr?—”
The basilisk thundered out of the cave.
The crystal shattered beneath its weight, and all the world was shards, claws, and contagion.