Chapter 40 #2
A thick tendril shoots out of the darkness. It slaps the bridge, rocking it. I extend my magic to hold the planks firm, just like when the wind fought me on the heist in Mythos.
The tendril snakes around Desmond’s ankle, pulling him flat onto his back. It drags his calf over the edge, and a scream lodges in my throat, but he slashes through it. The severed end lands on the planks, ink-black liquid leaking from the wound.
A gust of damp air billows from the pit. The smell of rot makes us all gag. I lose focus for a fraction of a second, and the bridge sways before I quickly regain control.
“Holy Danu,” Finnian swears, his knees shaking. “I’m not ready for this.”
Desmond sprints. My heart squeezes in time with his quick steps as tendrils lash before him. He slashes through them, the bridge swaying with every shift of his balance despite how hard I try to hold it still. My pulse roars through my ears.
He jumps the last planks, landing on the other side in a crouch. The crackle of stone echoes, followed by the click of bones and the grating drag of metal weapons—draugr.
“Please survive,” I whisper. Even though he’s the most capable fighter I’ve ever met, I’m sick to my stomach. I can’t lose him.
Desmond raises his sword, grunting as a draugr clashes blades with him. More draugr close in from behind, and he whirls around to block.
“Finnian, you’re next,” Auri says. “I need to keep my eyes on the beast.”
He gulps, then steps onto the first plank, arms out wide for balance.
A cacophony of sharp clicks echoes up the ravine, and goosebumps crawl down my arms. “Maybe walk faster!” I hiss.
Finnian quickens his steps, but tentacles rise and whip his legs. He yelps, trips on his own feet, and falls.
My magic acts on instinct, gripping his clothes. He lies midair as if suspended by invisible strings. His shoulders rise too fast, too heavy, his panicked breaths not reaching his lungs.
“I’m swinging you toward the bridge!” I call out. Then I slowly move his gambeson and tunic, praying the seams can hold his weight. If they tear, he’s done for—and that’s if the tentacles don’t pull him below first. They writhe around his arms, and his gasps quicken into frantic panting.
Auri shoots one after another, but they latch on to him just as quickly as they recoil.
“Enough of this!” Auri snaps, and she trades her bow for lightning. The strikes blast each tentacle. They fall limp and drop, and I heave Finnian back onto the bridge.
“Run!” I scream.
He doesn’t need to be told twice. He pushes himself up and sprints, the bridge rippling with every step beneath him. He leaps over the last few planks and draws his sword, facing the awakened draugr.
I can feel my pulse in my throat. “I didn’t know if he was going to make it.”
“We aren’t done yet.” Auri aims as a tendril snakes around a plank. It tightens, cracking the wood. The bow thrums as Auri releases an arrow, piercing the tendril. Then she unleashes lightning from her fingertips, striking it. The tendril drops limp. It slides by its own weight into the darkness.
“Can’t you illuminate it?” I ask, gesturing at the ravine.
Her head tilts as if surprised I have a decent idea. Then she reaches out, and lightning dances from her palm. The jagged forks lick the air and illuminate the plunging cliffs, a distance that will kill if we fall.
For a split second, I see it—a writhing mass of tendrils that stem from a gaping maw.
Thunder shakes the cavern. Needle-sharp stalactites crack and drop from the cavernous ceiling. My magic whips out, knocking several clear of the bridge.
Finnian yells, “You trying to kill us, Auri?”
She grimaces. “No more lightning. Perhaps if he were better at dodging. . .”
“You should go next,” I blurt out, even though my gut says bad, bad idea. “If the beast tries to capsize the bridge while you cross, I can hold it up with my Gift. Desmond and Finnian need you over there.”
Auri’s jaw sets, and the glint in her amber eyes hardens. “You know the truth about the vow, don’t you?”
The meaning behind her words is like a punch to the gut. She’s known all along. I nod. “If I die, Desmond dies too.”
“I can’t leave you unguarded. If you cross first—”
Finnian cries out, and a draugr’s hissing laugh raises the hairs on my neck.
“If I cross first, I’ll have to focus on the bridge while my back is to the draugr,” I argue. “I have my knives. I can hold the beast off on my own.”
She hesitates as if deciding pains her. Then she gives in with a nod. “May Danu be with you, Cyn. I’m starting to like you.”
I don’t know what to say, so I nod back instead.
She holds her bow ready as she crosses the first quarter. Then three tendrils spiral up, latch onto the center of the bridge, and pull.
The stakes creak as the bridge buckles. “No!” I shout, gripping the stakes with my magic and willing them to stay in the stone.
Auri runs, leaping over the tendrils. She lands on the other side and swivels to aim. She shoots with enviable speed, but as soon as the tentacles drop, others surge to take their place.
“Run!” Auri yells at me.
The tentacles constrict like a snake, the planks creaking and cracking. I hesitate at the edge of the cliff because if I don’t stop the beast now, we won’t have a way out of the tomb. I have to—
“Run!” Auri screams again. Her fear halts every thought in my mind. I sprint, my life depending on it.
I untether the daggers strapped to my thighs as I throw my arms out for balance. The blades fly, slashing through the tentacles. I dare to hope I’ll make it.
Halfway across.
Then the plank beneath me cracks, my foot plunging through. I cry out as I fall. My body slams into the bridge, knocking the breath from my lungs.
I hold on tight and pull my leg free. The bridge sways beneath me as the beast batters it, trying to knock it down.
My frantic, pounding pulse roars in my ears.
This is worse than fighting the draugr wight.
The beast in the chasm is too far below to harm, and I have no idea how I’d kill it anyway.
If I can’t make it across, I’ll die here.
I’ll never hug Evie again. I’ll never have a chance to apologize, to tell her that I love her.
I have to keep going. I crawl, the bridge swaying too much to stand. Splinters dig into my hands. My knives defend me on instinct.
Slice. A tentacle plops onto the planks. I throw it off. Slice. Another joins the darkness below.
I’m so close—I can see Auri shooting the tentacles that creep toward me.
Then the beast below hisses. A writhing mass of tentacles rises around me, outnumbering my knives. They pull on the bridge with merciless vigor, rocking it so hard I’m forced to hug the planks to hold on.
A stake pops loose. I scream as the bridge twists, dangling me over the chasm. I kick empty air, gasping as I look down. Gods, help me. I can’t survive this drop.
I release the knives, letting them fall as I focus on the remaining stakes. My magic strains under the weight of the bridge, my body, and the monster’s pull.
Auri’s lightning strikes the dark tendrils in a burst of sparks, but the beast doesn’t let go. It yanks again, and the rope snaps.
The bridge swings like a released pendulum. I hold on for dear life, every second tortuously long as the chasm wall grows closer and closer. I squeeze my eyes shut, my panic choking me. There is nothing I can do except brace for impact.
My chest slams against the chasm wall, knocking the breath from my lungs. I wheeze as stars swarm my vision. I swallow the metallic tang of blood in my mouth and look up. Maybe I can climb the bridge like a ladder. I’d be on the wrong side of the cavern, but what choice do I have?
I climb three planks. Then tentacles latch around my ankles and tighten. “Auri!” I scream. I jerk my foot. They loosen, only to coil with a tighter grip like they’re toying with me. My muscles strain as the beast pulls.
The knives—one is still strapped to my thigh.
Before I can unsheathe it, tentacles ensnare my wrists and pry me from the ropes.
I fall.