25. Willow
Willow
Kevin lets out a panicked bleat, and I clutch him tighter to my chest, my scream lodging in my windpipe as the ground falls out from under us.
This is it. This is how I die.
I close my eyes tight, and then Rhune’s arms are around me, his massive body curling into a shield, folding around me and Kevin with little care for his own body.
His wings snap out wide, and I catch one glimpse of the ice-rock raining down around us before he tucks my head against his chest, blocking out the sight.
“Hold on,” he growls, his voice strained. “I have you.”
I do the only thing I can. I hold on to Rhune.
The impact when we hit is bone-jarring, even through the cushion of Rhune’s body. Above me, chunks of ice-rock slam into his back, his wings, and with each strike, a pained grunt tears from his throat, but he doesn’t let go.
Debris crashes down around us, burying us in a cage of broken ice. I can’t see. Can’t breathe. All I can do is curl into Rhune’s chest and pray we make it out of this alive.
Then with a terrifying roar that bursts from deep in his chest, Rhune shoves up, and breaks free of the ice. His wings are torn and bleeding, but they still work, and he uses them to shove massive chunks of rubble aside as if it weighs nothing.
Biceps straining, he pulls me and Kevin out from beneath him, cradling us both against his chest as he staggers upright and away from the shifting ice. Once we’re a good distance away, and I’m positive we’re truly alive, I allow myself to look at Rhune.
My mouth drops in horror as I take in the state of his wings and body.
Blood. So much blood.
It’s dark and glistening, oozing from the dozens of cuts crisscrossing his arms and back where the ice-rock sliced clean through his armor.
“Rhune—”
“I am fine,” he says, voice tight with pain. “You are unharmed. That is what matters.”
I don’t have the energy to argue with him right now. Instead, I turn, taking in the destruction around us. My eyes scan the wreckage, looking at the broken bodies of the arachnyx twitching beneath the rubble.
“Nyx.” His name claws its way out of my throat, raw with panic. “Where’s Nyx?”
I don’t see him. He’s gone. Buried. My heart slams against my ribs, each beat louder than the last, and my hands curl into fists, my nails cutting bloodied crescents into my palms.
“Rhune,” I whisper. “Where is he? Where’s Nyx?”
He doesn’t answer. His jaw is set, his eyes scanning the wreckage with the same desperation as mine.
An invisible chord curls around my heart and yanks, squeezing the air from my lungs and spreading ice through my veins.
I want to check the rubble, to find the broken pieces of Nyx. But I’m frozen to the spot.
There! Movement!
I lean in closer, certain my eyes are playing tricks on me. But then, a section of rubble shifts, causing the ice-rock to groan as something beneath it fights to break free.
“Nyx!”
The pile erupts, and Nyx bursts out from beneath it, his wings spreading wide as he shakes off the debris still clinging to his frame. He’s covered in oozing, bloody wounds like Rhune, and one of his beautiful wings is bent at an angle that makes my stomach turn, but he’s standing. He’s alive.
“Nyx!” I yell, running toward him and throwing my arms around his shoulders. He catches me with a shocked grunt, but returns the embrace a moment later, allowing his bloodied arms to fall across my back. “Oh my God, I thought you died!”
“A fall that small couldn’t take me out, my treasure,” he whispers, pressing his lips to the top of my head. “Not when I have you to live for.”
I blush, turning my gaze upward to see just how far we fell.
The opening above is nothing more than a tiny blip of light, so distant it might as well be a star.
I have the horrifying realization that we’re trapped down here in the dark, with only the faint glow of the root-covered walls to keep my nightmares at bay.
Nyx releases me, and the absence of his warmth hits me instantly.
I wrap my arms around my torso, shivering as the cold seeps back under my skin.
As soon as Rhune notices, he crosses the space between us, folding one massive wing around my body and tucking me against his side, and I lean into him, grateful for the warmth radiating off his skin.
My eye catches on one of the arachnyx corpses scattered across the cavern floor, and my stomach twists as I take in the long, spindly legs now curled in on themselves and unmoving.
“Are you sure they’re dead?”
Nyx nods. “Me and Rhune had magic to brace our fall. They did not. They had no chance of survival from that height.”
I let out a sigh of relief. Then a shriek splits the air, high and clicking and horribly familiar. My whole body goes rigid. “Oh, God. Is that another one?”
Nyx gazes skyward, his lips pressing into a deep frown. “Let’s not stick around to find out.”
He starts toward the back of the cavern without another word, and Rhune scoops me into his arms and follows. There’s a small, circular tunnel carved into the far wall I hadn’t noticed until now, and Nyx is already dropping to his hands and knees, disappearing into the mouth of it.
Rhune holds me tight against his chest with one arm as he ducks into the tunnel, leaving Kevin to bring up the rear, his little claws scrabbling against the stone. The passage seems to stretch on forever, tight and airless, but after a few minutes, it opens into a much larger cavern.
The air here is warmer, thicker and damp against my skin in a way that reminds me of the healing pool in our old home.
“We’re in luck,” Nyx says. “There’s a pool somewhere down here. We can bathe and heal and rest here until we decide what to do next.”
“The spiders won’t follow us here?” I ask.
Nyx shakes his head, a sympathetic smile pulling at his mouth. “Not through that tunnel, they can’t. We’re safe here, Willow. I promise.”
I nod, struggling to keep my eyes open. All of my adrenaline has left me, and now all that’s left is a heavy exhaustion. Except…
“What about Dravik and Cin? Will they be able to find us down here?” I ask.
“Don’t worry,” he soothes. “Dravik knows we went to the cliffs by the ocean. They’ll come looking for us when they see the wreckage. They should be here by the next sun flip if we’re lucky.”
I want to believe him. I do believe him.
But when Nyx thinks I’m not looking, I catch it—the flicker of worry creasing his brow. It’s there and gone so fast I almost convince myself I imagined it.
Almost.