Chapter 22 #2
“Same for me,” his twin said. His return to normal was less obvious, his beastly state a permanent one.
“I think I’ll survive, unless this creature is venomous. If so, I may be a goner.” Pan gestured to his thigh, which was stained with blood. “Though I would assume I have some level of immunity to venoms and poisons. Fuck, this hurts like a son of a bitch.”
I eyed him, checking for any indication he was more injured than he was letting on, but other than a grimace and the bloody leg, he seemed fine. He wasn’t even limping.
“Ready to keep going?”
The other three nodded, though there was a notable lack of chatter this time, and we carefully continued our way to the tomb. It wasn’t far now, and hopefully the spider had been the last major obstacle we’d encounter.
“Watch for pits. It looks clear, but as we’ve seen before, appearances can be deceiving,” I warned.
It was maybe ten or fifteen minutes later when we reached our destination. I cast my gaze out, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. It felt as though we were being watched, but as far as I could tell, no one else was here.
“Down the stairs, I assume?” Pan asked, glancing into the dark stairwell.
“Yes,” I grunted, grabbing a torch from the wall and looking to Alek. “Would you do me a favor and light this?”
He smirked. “My pleasure.”
Before I could blink, he’d manifested a lighter and held the small flickering flame out. The torch blazed to life, lighting our path.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Something told me the Berserker enjoyed having a reason to use the magic he’d inherited from his mother and not just his brute strength.
Taking the lead, I led us down into the heart of the tomb. The air was stale. Undisturbed. I was willing to bet the last living person who’d been down here was me.
“No traps in here?” Tor asked.
“No need.”
I didn’t clarify that no one would successfully survive the journey without me to guide them.
We walked in silence until we reached a stone door, the massive slab placed there by me all those years ago.
“He’s behind that door.”
Pan snickered. “Like Jesus. Of course he thought he was that important. Megalomaniacs always do.”
I raised a pointed brow.
“What? My arrogance is well earned.”
Alek slapped him on the shoulder. “Sure it is.”
“True prowess requires no accolades,” Tor added. “It speaks for itself.”
“Sounds like something only a loser would say,” Pan scoffed. “How do we open this tomb? I don’t see a handle or helpful switch.”
Alek reared back and punched the stone square in the center.
It cracked, dust falling from the ceiling and coating us in the fine mist. Then, with a grunt, he finished it off with a front kick.
It took a moment for the air to clear enough for us to see, but when it did, Khan was there, clear as day, encased in his armor.
I was certain once I closed the distance between us, I’d find nothing but porous bones damaged by time underneath the remaining iron pieces.
The leather and fabric that once attached the metal were long since gone, eaten by insects there was no defense against.
“Looks like a happy chap,” Pan murmured, walking alongside me as I strode forward.
His gait was no longer even, and I sent him a sharp glance.
Beads of sweat dotted his brow, and there was a slight tremor in his hand.
My eyes darted down to the spider bite and noted the fresh blood staining his thigh with a frown.
We needed to get out of here and see to his wound.
“He was a real charmer.” I didn’t try to hide my sarcasm.
“Is that it?” Tor asked, pointing to the Mongol saber clutched in Khan’s skeletal fist.
“Do you see any other weapons lying around, brother?” Alek teased.
“Forgive me for asking, but the last weapon was a shard of bone repurposed into a blade by magic. It could be much the same.” Tor’s tone said he wasn’t interested in playful banter. He was as on edge as I was.
“It’s a fair point,” Pan said, shooting Alek a considering look.
Before they wandered off and started tearing into the various chests and jars littering the rest of the room, I reached for the saber. “This is it.”
My fingers slid smoothly around the hilt, and I gave it a gentle tug. Khan’s arm lifted with the weapon, much to my chagrin. I had to yank hard before his arm dislocated at the elbow and the sword and forearm came free.
“Fuck,” I muttered, reaching down and removing each finger bone by bone.
“That is a special type of unsettling, and I’m a demon.”
“Not a fan of desecrating corpses?” Alek asked.
“Not exactly my scene. I’m more a fan of creating them.”
Tor offered him a smile that would have been terrifying were I anyone else. “Me too.”
“Psychopath,” Alek muttered.
“Berserker,” Tor corrected.
“Same thing, in the end.”
“Basically,” his brother agreed.
An icy chill swept around the room, setting off my internal alarms as the weapon finally left Khan’s possession. The air had been relatively still since we entered Khan’s tomb . . . So where was the current suddenly coming from?
A low rumble had us all freezing in place, not even a breath taken between us.
“What was that?” Tor asked.
“Nothing good,” Alek said, as the ground beneath our feet began to tremble, which turned to a rattle.
“Fuck, let’s go,” I said, beelining back the way we came.
They were right on my heels as we sprinted up the stairs. A sharp cry from behind me had me turning just as Pan fell into me. But he hadn’t simply tripped. No, the stairs were disintegrating under our feet, and I was just far enough ahead that the destruction hadn’t caught up to me.
“Quick!” I shouted. “The tomb is caving in on itself.”
The four of us picked up speed as we did our best to navigate the shifting landscape.
“It’s like a bloody black hole,” Pan complained. “Can’t you just pop us out of here and save the dramatic escape?”
I didn’t have time to shoot him the glare his words deserved. “Don’t you think I would have done so were it possible?”
“So we have to go all the way back to the entrance?” Alek asked.
“And through all the traps we might have missed.”
“Fuck.”
“Stop complaining and run.” I bolted, sending up a prayer we could avoid any booby traps we may not have found.
Thankfully, the spider’s gargantuan body had tripped the remaining traps, and the ground beneath our feet stabilized as we got closer to the town. Unfortunately, the empty streets were not so empty anymore.
“Are those—” Alek started, his voice holding the hint of a quaver.
“Ghosts,” Tor confirmed.
“I guess we found those sacrifices you were so curious about,” Pan said, breathing heavily.
Alek had gone pale at the mention of ghosts.
“This is not the time for you to fall apart,” Tor said, grabbing him by the shirt and giving a shake.
“I hate ghosts. You wouldn’t be giving me such grief if they were all in haunted dolls.”
“Save it,” I barked, shoving them both back into a loping run. “We need to keep going.”
“You’ve gotten used to Kiki,” Tor pointed out, still attempting to give his twin a pep talk.
“Kiki has proven herself safe. Or at the very least, well behaved.” Alek gestured at the swelling number of spectral figures heading our way. “They have weapons and do not appear remotely friendly.”
A war cry rang out from the ranks of the specters, loud and rage-filled.
“Definitely not friendly,” I agreed.
“How are we supposed to fight them?” Pan asked, his voice tight and expression pained as he forced himself to keep pace with us.
“We don’t. They can’t leave the town’s border. We have to run.”
Pan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he did his best to charge forward. The damage inflicted by his bite was growing worse by the second. He might not make it out of here on his own two feet.
As we made headway, hope bloomed in my heart at the glimmer of the rift where the exit was. We were nearly there, just a little further. The spirits were on our heels, but we’d managed to outrun them this far.
“Fuck, Pan!” Alek shouted, stopping as the demon fell to the ground.
I saw it happen in slow motion. As he bent to help our fallen teammate, a nearby ghost came at him from behind, rushing through his body. Alek went rigid, his body freezing much like Grim’s when he’d been turned into a statue.
“Alek!” Tor roared, catching his brother just as he toppled forward.
There was no response.
“What’s wrong with him?” Pan asked, casting his eyes around as the ghosts crept ever closer.
“I don’t know,” I gritted out, already fearing the worst. “But we can’t wait around and figure it out.”
Tor gave me a terse nod and adjusted his hold, slinging his brother over his shoulder. Alek didn’t crumple but remained stiff as a board.
I picked up Pan, holding him in my free arm as I took off at a dead run. Tor was hot on my heels as we made our way to the exit, the spirits’ screams near deafening as we approached freedom. I didn’t dare look back.
Relief flooded my veins as soon as we were across the border, Tor and I sharing matching looks of astonishment that we’d survived. The mission hadn’t exactly gone smoothly, and things were only going from bad to worse.
As if I had tempted fate with the thought, Pan began seizing in my arms.
“Fuck.”
With a final burst of adrenaline, I slammed into Tor, teleporting our group back to our sanctuary. We arrived in a tangle of limbs, the four of us hitting the floor. Hard.
There was a flurry of movement as people gathered around us. Snapping my head up, I caught the dark blue eyes of the priest.
“Help us.”