Chapter 17
Graysen
Your prey’s escaping, Death-dealer.
I fucking know!—I spat back at the Uzrek who seemed to relish in stating the fucking obvious. Like hells I was going to face Sirro without the creature he’d sent me to hunt.
The blast tore the lair apart, scattering debris in every direction. Men and women rallied to help the wounded pinned beneath hefty chunks of rock. Jiao bellowed orders. A clash of voices ricocheted through the chamber. But one cut through the chaos, forcing a breath of relief from my chest.
“GRAY!”
I spun around.
Mela, covered in dust with blood dripping from a nasty gash at her temple, scrambled up the rockfall beneath the blasted escape tunnel. “Up there, Gray!” She pointed to the dark gap overhead, then dropped into a squat, lacing her fingers together. “Go catch him. I’ll come find you!”
“Don’t you dare!” Jiao roared, wheeling toward me. His nostrils flared, his stern features carved into denial. “You don’t make a move without one of us by your side!”
I hesitated.
Mela bellowed, “NOW, GRAY!”
Fuck!
My fingers locked around the hilt of my dagger. I ripped its twin from the sheath on my thigh. “I’m sorry, Jiao. I’m going after Yezekael!”
Surging forward, I closed the distance in long strides and leaped up the rubble. Mela braced. I planted my boot in her laced hands—
She grunted, the sound rumbling from her chest into a roar.
Launching upward, she used my momentum to hurl me higher—
Our combined force sent me cutting through the air.
Right into the blasted hole in the roof.
Swinging my daggers overhead, I slammed them into the jagged stone. The impact jarred up my arms, rattling my bones and nearly tearing the hilts from my grip.
Fuuuk!
But the blades held. And I hung there, swinging wildly with the momentum.
Tipping my head back, I squinted into the gaping hole above.
The upper portion was too smooth, too symmetrical, with an elbow bend carved with purpose.
This wasn’t random, nor a frantic act of escape.
There was a second tunnel up there, and the creature had blasted the hidden entrance to it wide open.
And Yezekael was already scrambling into it.
Stones shaken loose by his rough movements clattered past me as he vanished into the tunnel that carved horizontally through the catacombs.
Yanking a dagger free, I punched a hole higher up the gouged rock.
I burst into motion, repeating the movement—driving my wyrmblades into stone, hauling myself swiftly upward.
Reaching the very top, I clambered onto the ledge and rolled to safety.
Huffing for breath, I slid the daggers back into their sheaths and pushed unsteadily to my feet.
The tunnel was wide but low, forcing me to hunch over to avoid smacking my head.
I shoved forward, my posture awkward, slowing me down.
Yezekael scuttled ahead on all fours like a cockroach, his wings scraping the tunnel’s low ceiling.
The sound of his escape grew fainter as he pulled away.
Indeed, young Crowther, he’s far ahead—grumbled the Uzrek.
Hellsgate!
I ran, cursing myself. I couldn’t stretch my legs.
Couldn’t hit my usual speed. I tore through tunnel after tunnel, hurtling around hairpin bends and ducking under overhanging rock, pounding up slopes, even dropping to my knees to crawl through shallow tunnels before dragging myself upright again.
My thighs burned as sweat drizzled down my spine.
It felt like all I’d fucking done today was run.
Shit, shit, shit…
I slowed when the tunnel split into three possible choices. Which way had Yezekael gone?
The left, young Crowther—the Uzrek advised.
I threw myself down the tunnel, careering into a faster pace.
My boots thumped stone, the rush of air raking cool fingers across my face, tossing sweaty hair from my forehead.
Darkness streamed by and time became meaningless.
On and on I ran, and Nelle pressed into my mind, pushing through my focus.
That strange, animalistic side of me hissed with fury, demanding I stop, spin around and find her. I had no idea what the fuck was happening at the Keep, but a rippling sea of unease and anger kept pace with me as I chased Yezekael.
You need to move faster!—urged the Uzrek.
Nelle’s emotions shifted into arrogant pride, itching along my bones. I pushed hard, forcing the surge down deep. I had to stay on task.
I needed this creature.
If he got away, all was lost.
I can’t… I can’t…
I can’t lose Yezekael…
Not now. Not when I was so close. Capturing Yezekael was right there, right within my reach.
Faster. I needed to move faster.
Utter relief flowed through my veins as the tunnel widened and rose taller, finally giving me the headroom I desperately needed. My spine straightened. My stride lengthened. And I was gone, exploding forward into aggressive speed.
My mind emptied of everything but the creature ahead.
Nothing existed but the chase, the smell of blood in the air, the adrenaline pulsing through my veins.
My focus sharpened to a deadly point. An ancient thrumming. A fierce snarl, as if something savage inside me, smoldering with banked fury, wanted out.
The Uzrek hissed with a smile in his voice—Good, Wyrm Tamer. You’re gaining on him.
I burst into an enormous cavern, its sloped roof, riddled with holes like a beehive, funneled toward a fissure. Faint light poured from above, glancing off water dripping from its innards. A perfect escape route.
And Yezekael was there, scuttling on all fours across the vast cavern floor.
He glanced over a shoulder, those moon-crescent pupils shining bright with fear. The loud scrape of claws on rock scratched my ears as he pushed himself upright, half-twisting around, and hurled a handful of small objects that thrummed with dark magic.
They sliced through the air, fast and vicious.
I wrenched my shoulders aside, narrowly avoiding being hit.
One skimmed my cheek, burning a hot graze across the flesh.
Behind me, the projectiles struck stone, and the cavern detonated.
Rock exploded like a tidal wave smashing against a cliff.
Stone rained down in a thunderous cascade.
Swirling smoke stung my nostrils and heat scorched my back.
The ground shook and bucked hard enough to knock my balance.
A snarl ripped loose from my throat. My brows drew low over a gaze fixed with feral determination on Yezekael. Breath tore from my lungs as I drove myself faster, my boots slamming the rocky floor like gunfire.
I was a bracing wind coursing across the cavern.
A storm-edged arrow.
Yezekael spread his wings wide.
Rage tangled with fear that he should dare to take flight.
He sprang upward, wings sweeping down. The downward draft gusted through the cavernous chamber and broke hard against my body. He launched higher, wings pounding the air as he flew through darkness and dripping water toward the gaping hole in the roof.
Horror crawled down my spine.
If he reaches that hole…
I had to stop him.
I reached for anything on my bandoleer. Loops of leathery magic slid under my fingers, Leviathan ripping free from my shoulders as my grip locked around the long handle. The lash crackled and sizzled with pale, razor-bright magic, like electricity racing down a powerline.
Hurtling through the damp, dark air, I swung the whip overhead. Pools of water arced in sprays as I thundered across the pitted cavern floor. The lash whirred faster, faster, faster.
Yezekael climbed higher, the booming of his wings reverberating through the chamber.
I snapped my arm back—
—slashed it forward.
The crack exploded in my ears. The lash sliced through the air and snaked about his foot.
I yanked hard, like hooking a furious fish.
Yezekael screamed as he jerked downward, his wings caving in. He kicked, trying to shake the whip free, but it locked around his ankle like a chain.
My boots vibrated beneath me as I slammed into a skid, bending my knees and hauling with every ounce of strength I possessed.
Yezekael was fierce.
His wings dug out wider, beating faster, harder, stronger.
To my shock, I was dragged.
Panic ensnared me wholly. I shoved down bodily over the whip’s handle, the straining lash digging into my shoulder. My boots scrambled for purchase.
I stumbled—
Lost my balance.
And then gravity vanished beneath my feet.
It was the same sensation I’d experienced when I’d hurled myself off that cliff after Nelle, except this time I was lifted straight up into the air.
Wind from his pounding wings shoved against my body, and I dangled helplessly as he carried me up, up, up.
Yezekael screamed in outrage, thrashing his leg, trying to shake me off.
His mighty wings beat furiously, dragging me upward through the drizzle of raining water toward the gaping hole.
Water pelted my face, blinding me and slicking the whip’s leathery handle.
I tightened my grip as best I could as we flew higher and higher.
I needed to do something.
Any-fucking-thing.
Spitting out a string of curses, I kicked my legs out and began climbing hand over hand, treating the lash like a rope. I dragged myself up the length of the whip’s lash, closing in on Yezekael. All I needed to do was to get up there and latch my fingers around his feet to gain a secure hold.
Feathers tore free from his wings as he drove them harder. Scarlet plumes scattered and whirled through the air.
Yezekael frantically dug into a pouch strung across his chest. Tiny amber critters, stick-insect like with oversized pincers, clung to his fingertips. They leaped off his fingers and landed on the coiled lash wrapped around his foot.
The whip crackled and spat as the chittering critters used their pincers to pry at the loops, untangling the lash from their master’s ankle, loop by loop.
With every uncoil, I jerked downward—fuck, fuck, fuck—my grip slipping on Leviathan’s braided length.
I scrambled to regain my hold, my body swaying precariously.
My mouth went dry as I did something fucking stupid and glanced down at the dizzying height, the jagged rocky floor far, far below.
My nerves pitched and tumbled into the pit of my stomach.
Fucking hellsgate.
I might survive. I might not. I certainly wasn’t looking forward to slamming into unyielding rock.
I jolted downward once more. The lash clung to Yezekael’s foot by a single loop, one fast being freed by the tribe of tiny critters chittering with excitement.
It was too late…
Pure terror swept through me, hollowing me out.
“I can’t wait to see your body splatter down below,” Yezekael grinned.
His grin faltered, then froze.
It was the outward thrust of his body, the bowing of his spine, and the awful scream of pain slashing through the cold air that confused me.
I still didn’t understand, not even when something pierced through his wing, snapping feathers to drift away in a puff of scarlet.
Something long, slender, and barbed. The weapon was yanked back, its bloodied hook-like end catching high on the leathery wing.
Yezekael shrieked as he was hauled backward like a speared eel, dragging me with him.
His long limbs flailed uselessly. He vanished into one of the enormous passageways that ringed the top of the beehive cavern, yanked straight into darkness—and I came with him.
Except my body slammed against the sloping cavern wall.
Pain ruptured right through me. Blood wept from my nose, from the split in my lip.
I groaned, my head spinning, joints aching, but I held tight to Leviathan Spinebender as whoever had snagged Yezekael dragged me up into the passageway overlooking the cavern.
Steadying warmth flowed through my chest to be back on solid ground.
My knuckles, scuffed and bruised, slowly loosened so I could release the whip’s lash.
Heaving hot, ragged breaths, I rolled onto my back, staring up at the black, glistening rock.
A sharp crack of bone snapping and Yezekael’s shriek of agony had me rolling to my front, digging in to push to my knees just in time to see the weapon ripped from his wing, tearing through cartilage and bone, membrane and flesh.
My eyes flared wide with astonishment
The lesser creature swayed, his long limbs dangling at his sides as he sucked in a pained breath, his entire body trembling.
The Uzrek had one hand wrapped around Yezekael’s throat, talons curving into pale skin, threatening to pierce through.
His other hand gripped his bloodied walking stick, the thigh bone of some ancient beast he’d used like a boat hook to spear Yezekael.
The Uzrek towered above us. The tips of his twisting crown of horns scraped the ceiling, sparks catching on the swirling air currents stirred by his movement. His cloak of dried, cracked flesh rippled with his furious advance. Cleaved hooves clacked on stone as he jerked Yezekael closer.
You saved me—I whispered mentally, stunned.
“Thank you,” I said aloud, but the Uzrek was too busy scaring the ever-living shit out of the lesser creature.
Yezekael had his eyes squeezed shut.
“Open your eyes,” the Uzrek hissed, shaking him violently. “OPEN THEM!”
“NO!” the creature shrieked.
I understood why. Whatever leverage Yezekael had, it had to be the very thing Sirro wanted. And if it was knowledge… then the moment the Uzrek entered his mind and stole it, he’d have nothing of worth left to bargain with.
Spitting a gob of blood, I staggered to my feet and swiped the back of my hand across my throbbing, swollen lip.
The Uzrek shoved the creature toward me. “Here, son of the Wyrm. Take your prize.”
Yezekael stumbled, collapsing to one knee.
My fingers were already working, grabbing his lanky arms and using the whip like a rope to bind his hands behind his back.
I seized the sagging beast by the crest of plumage atop his crown and yanked his head back to hiss into his ear. “Time to meet Sirro.”