Chapter 48
Forty-Eight
The fever dreams ebbed, and the fog burned away. After hours—or nights—had passed, Mina’s eyes opened. She blinked and brought things into focus; those sentries still circled her, yet now their mouths were slack.
What happened? She didn’t feel like a ghoul. Maybe none of them did. She still had cognition; did they? She knew certain facts. She’d been scratched. Infection had spread. She had burned with fever and suffered delirium.
She was afraid to look at her shaking hands. Would they be green?
Summoning all her courage, she glanced down. Her skin remained the same! She ripped at her slashed sleeve.
Smooth flesh greeted her. Not only had the ghoul scratches disappeared; so too had her plague wound. How was this possible? Energy filled her, and she felt like her old self.
The ghouls around her hissed and shifted threateningly, tightening their circle. The hivemind link she’d experienced had disappeared. She leapt to her feet and swept her gaze about, seeking a weapon. She’d somehow escaped their contagion once; she didn’t hold out hope for a second time.
“Kosmina!” Adham’s deep voice carried from inside this mountain. He’d survived!
“I’m here! I’m in trouble!”
“Hold tight!”
As the ghouls closed in on her with bared claws, she scented Adham—and sand. A lot of sand. He was accompanied by . . . Lothaire? Yes, and Kristoff too.
They must have been the two immortals who’d faced such hardships here! Somehow they’d breached this realm and located Adham, and now the trio fought their way toward her.
Their footsteps sounded in the tunnels, accompanied by the screams of ghouls. A louder roar echoed from deeper in the mountain, raising chills on her skin. The primordial. Faster and stronger than any of the rest.
But Mina couldn’t worry about the queen right now. Ghouls closed in. She had no weapon, couldn’t use her speed to break through the crowding line of them without risking another scratch. They were close now, mere feet away. She pivoted, baring her fangs.
Before her eyes, sand flooded into the chamber like a swarm of bees. It solidified into a straight line, hovering. . . .
“DUCK!” he bellowed.
She dropped to the ground. “Now!”
The sand sliced through the air like an enormous scythe mowing down blades of grass. Heads rolled all around her. As bodies crumpled one by one in a dance of spasming limbs, she skirted their claws and kept herself safe.
“Whoa.” Adham’s sorcery was magnificent! How had he reclaimed it? She told the decapitated head closest to her, “The King of Sand is back!”
He charged into the chamber, eyes gleaming with magic and emotion. Kristoff and Lothaire followed.
She grinned at her sorcerer, who looked like a desert god. Sand made up a suit of armor and formed a mask around eyes like the sun. Two funnels of sand stood guard beside him.
He did a stutter step at the sight of her. “Kosmina! What happened to you?”
“I don’t know. I lost consciousness a couple of times, but I woke feeling great.” Her attention drifted behind him. “What are you two doing here?”
“Rescuing you, obviously,” Lothaire said. “Or euthanizing you. It all depended on how much ghoulness you retained. After excavating the sorcerer from a landslide, we’ve been unneeded as he annihilated countless bogeys to reach you.”
“A landslide?” What had happened to him? And why wasn’t he taking her into his arms?
“Woman, your . . . your eyes are clear!” His were wide with shock. “The red is gone.”
“So she did have the plague too!” Lothaire said. “Buried the lede there, no, sorcerer?”
Mina ignored her uncle. “Look, my arm has healed completely.” She held it up.
“How can this be? That sentry sliced your skin. The infection was spreading.”
“I had a raging fever.” Her brows drew together. “But I felt like a battle also raged inside me, as if one contagion fought the other, but neither won.”
“Miraculous.”
Lothaire told Adham, “Assuming Mina drank from you—and I do assume that—your blood probably helped that battle. Nothing like a sorcerer to make opponents so crazed they both lose all.”
Mina said, “However it happened, I’ve been delivered from two horrible fates. Am I ghoul-proof now?”
Lothaire shrugged. “One way to find out.”
“Which we will not risk.” Adham started toward her. “We’ll have time for shock later. For now, let’s leave this foul place behind. Do you still detect the scent of the mortal realm?”
“I’m struggling to pick it up in the midst of all the putrid slime.” The cavern walls seemed to ooze more sickness, the rocks weeping it. “But I think we need to head deeper into this cavern.” She glanced at Lothaire for confirmation—the king’s senses were strong—and he nodded.
Adham took her hand, and the group hastened onward. He kept his sand at the ready, his tornadoes tightening.
Gaze alert, she said, “I sense other sentries concealed all around us. Yet I can’t see them.”
Lothaire muttered, “Stay sharp, and do not run if you can help it. Running just makes them frisky.”
As they passed an opening, Mina cast a glance into another soaring cavern, and her steps faltered. “Oh, gods.”
A multitude of huge greenish-yellow eggs covered every inch of the ground and walls, and more sacs dangled from the ceiling. The quakes had dislodged a number of those. As the group watched, one sac plummeted to the ground to burst in a splash of slime and half-formed limbs.
Lothaire gave a thrilled laugh. “How refreshing . Just when you think you’ve seen it all!”
Another quake rumbled, intensifying. Boulders crashed all around them before the aftershocks quieted. In the dust and confusion, Mina had to yank her hand from Adham’s—to grasp the monstrous one that had clamped her neck.
Comprehension struck, and Mina swallowed against the chill pressure. Camouflaged in sickness, emerging as if from the very wall, the primordial had struck.
And she has me in her clutches.