Chapter 38
The music is thunderous.
Threatening.
Absolute.
My eyes wrench open in time to see the creature jerking to a stop, its body contorting in erratic movements as it halts just a foot above me.
Its frills open, widening around its head, and I can feel the roaring chatter it expels, but I can’t hear it.
I can only hear him.
I feel him too, as if the latch is alive with its own sixth sense. It coils up, like a gather of slack winding back on its spool, making me shudder all over.
Tears spring to my eyes in profound relief.
He’s here.
A second later, Piper appears, stalking through the night, his form a silhouette of vicious shadow.
He has one hand on the pipe, the other on a sword, silver and gleaming in the moonlight.
He walks right up to the creature and lifts his weapon.
His song twists with a piercing blast, and causes the creature to suddenly charge.
I can only watch in horror as the monster impales itself mouth-first right onto Piper’s outstretched blade, plunging from jaw to skull. Blood sprays out of its mortal wound, and the creature screams out a terrible half-roar before its body jerks and the scream cuts off.
And then, it goes utterly still.
Shock hacks into me.
Piper wrenches his sword out of the creature’s head, making more blood spew before it flops to the ground, dead.
Very, very dead.
He yanks the pipe away from his lips and shoves it into the holder at his belt.
Then he turns and stalks toward me, stealing all that relief away and giving me the urge to bolt instead.
Because every ounce of savage energy he just aimed at the creature now bears down upon me.
Biceps bunched, neck thick with tension, and wild eyes that glint nearly as bright as the creature’s.
He looks terrifying.
My heart lurches and I try to scramble back, but I can’t move beneath the weight of his fury. It spews up like molten rage as he comes to a stop over me.
“You absolute raging idiot.”
I flinch at the wrath that snarls out between his bared teeth.
He shoves his sword into its scabbard and reaches down to haul me to my feet. My head spins as I’m yanked upright, my heart beating hard enough to crack my ribs.
I have never, ever seen him as horribly enraged as he is now. I stand stock-still, too petrified to flee, his hold on my arm shaking.
“You ran here, of all places, and nearly got attacked by a fucking serpill. Do you know what happens when they bite you? If you get injected with their venom? Do you know what could have just happened if I hadn’t found you in time?”
I tremble beneath his touch and shake my head.
“You don’t want to know,” he spits. “But I can promise you that such a death would have been agonizing. They don’t just swallow their prey whole. They toy with them first. Painfully. Savagely. Your death would have been horrific.”
Terror drains the blood from my face, my vision spotting. “I’m sorry—”
“Not nearly enough,” he growls. “When we return, I swear I will chain you to my fucking—”
My eyes shift behind him, and my stomach drops. “Look out!” I scream.
A serpill—smaller than the one he already killed, but still big—has risen from the sand right over his shoulder.
Piper whirls, but the creature lunges faster.
I watch it as if time has slowed.
Its maw gapes open, baring its teeth, and then it clamps down on Piper’s side, its fangs plunging right through him.
“No!”
Piper staggers and tears out his sword and tries to swing, but the thing still has hold of him.
It shakes him like a dog with a bone before tossing him down to the ground several feet away, making the sword fly out of his hand.
His face contorts in shock as the serpill poises over him in its death stance, fangs bared, frills vibrating.
A horrible flood of pure fear fills me.
I’m moving before my mind even catches up.
A scream tears from my throat as I leap forward and skid to the ground, my hand closing around the hilt of Piper’s fallen blade. I hear the creature screech, feel it lunging at me, but I grit my teeth, holding the blade with both hands, and I swing with all my strength.
The sharp sword blasts into the creature’s body, making me jolt as I slice through fur and skin and bone. With a horrible squelch, the blade comes out the other side, and I see the serpill’s head fold over before toppling right off.
I watch in shock as the decapitated head rolls, blood spurting from it and stopping at my feet. Then the rest of its body collapses, landing right on top of Piper’s sprawled form and making him cry out in pain.
Instantly, I drop the sword and rush to him, falling to my knees. Bracing my hands against the dead creature, I shove it off with a heave. My hands are shaking badly. My thoughts stuttering. I just killed something. Just barely stopped it from killing him.
There’s so much blood.
“Piper?” I call frantically as I lean over him.
Gone are his tanned complexion and the fire burning in his expression. He’s pale. Shaking. His eyes glassy with both shock and pain. Blood oozes from his side where the creature bit him, his shirt already soaked.
“Piper!” I shout, reaching down and gripping his shoulders.
His eyes lift, focusing on my face.
“What do I do?” I ask in panic. “Tell me what to do!”
Within me, the latch is writhing, angry and fearful.
“Venom,” he replies, his tongue thick. “N-nothing you can d-do.”
My eyes widen, and regret shoves me from the inside out, while denial tries to push back. This can’t be happening.
“No . . .”
Tears come up, hot and heavy, weighing down my cheeks as they fall. I wrench up his tunic to bare his torso. Indented in his abdomen are two deep puncture wounds, bloodied and hollow. Bubbling with a venomous froth.
Everything feels too quick. Too horrifying. He came here and saved my life. If it weren’t for him, that serpill would have ended me. And now, he’s the one paying the price.
Horrible, twisting guilt tangles around my ribs, making it impossible to breathe. I didn’t want this to happen. Not this.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out, my lashes wet and clumped.
He reaches down, and at first, I think he’s going to try to staunch his bleeding, but he grips my hand instead.
I’m so shocked by the touch that I jolt, my eyes flying up to his face. He looks terribly ashen, his eyes holding a fear he’s trying to hide.
That just makes me even more afraid.
This is all my fault.
“Tell me what to do,” I plead again, my hand trembling in his.
His throat bobs. “Stay,” he murmurs, so softly I barely even hear him.
It wasn’t spoken as a command. He said it as a plea.
Regret wrings me out, leaving me dripping with a shock of sadness that floods away my barriers. He saved my life, and now he’s given his for it.
A sob falls from my lips. “I’m here. I’m staying.”
Something like relief flashes over his expression, and then his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he slumps.
“Piper!”
I shake him again, trying to get him to wake up, but it doesn’t work. His body is still, head lolling against the sand. “Please,” I say desperately. “I didn’t want this to happen . . .”
When he still doesn’t move, I jab my fingers against his neck, trying to feel for a pulse, but I’m shaking too badly and my sobs are too loud to hear his heartbeat. I lean down, pressing my cheek against his lips, and I nearly collapse in relief when I feel his exhale against my skin.
He’s still alive.
I sit up and look around the dark desert.
Maybe I can save him. If I can drag him back to the mud pool and through the leyline, I can get to his guards.
They can take him to a healer and get this venom out of him.
My lips press together in determination, and I force myself to shove away my hysteria and focus.
But a tiny voice in the back of my head asks me why I care. Why I’m crying. Why I feel such crushing regret.
Because I hate him, right?
No.
That other voice is louder. Solid.
I wanted to hate him, I tried, but I don’t.
I can’t.
And I certainly don’t want him to die because of me. Especially now, when I know that he’s trying to save Brekon. These truths have a way of making themselves known, when it’s a matter of life and death, past the point of denial.
Getting up, I go around to his head and then lean down and grip him beneath the armpits to drag him. I fall back in a plume of sand. I try again, straining, feeling a couple of my scabs rip open along my back, but I can’t move him an inch. Not this way.
Panting, I look around, but then chattering bursts in the distance, and terror spikes up through my spine.
No no no no—
With a surge of energy that’s purely fear fueled, I go to his feet and push his legs together before shoving them until he’s bent at the knees.
Despite the fact that I’ve lost my own shoes, I stand on the tops of his to keep his feet planted.
Then I lean down and grab his wrists, hauling him up with all my might, while still standing on his feet.
His upper body jams toward me, and I duck down, letting his torso land over my back so hard I nearly flatten on the ground.
I’m barely able to stay upright, and I hiss out in pain from my wounds. But hauling countless vats of water and stacks of moulds over the years has built up my strength, and I need to call up every ounce of it now.
Because if I don’t, I’ve killed us both.