Page 206 of Eldritch
Zevander slipped past me and wove his way toward the entrance of the stairwell, stepping around Father and Aleysia.
A distant screeching that didn’t sound like Raivox echoed through the church, and Zevander peered around the staircase, quickly flattening himself against the wall and pressing a finger to his lips. He sank to a low crouch, and I quietly tiptoed my way past Father and Aleysia, who sat with their backs pressed against the staircase wall. I reached the bottom, coming to a stop behind where Zevander crouched. Chunks of wood and stone lay piled and crumbled, low enough to crawl over, but high enough to hide behind.
The gallery had crashed down over the center aisle and across half the pews on the right side of the church. The left sideheld a small bit of damage, but not as extensive. Beneath the wood and stone, I caught sight of limbs and flesh with sprinkles of blood and bits of gore, where the creatures had gotten crushed.
The screeching, louder that time, snapped my attention toward the front of the church, where dozens of the creatures piled inside, some of them standing up on their hind legs, their vicious teeth chomping at the air in a way that reminded me of someone sniffing. One of the creatures leapt up onto the last pew and hopped his way from one row to the next, coming to a stop halfway. Standing upright on the back of the pew, it sniffed again, claws clutching the rounded wood like a bird.
Movement just below it drew my attention to where Corwin hunched over himself, hidden and trembling.
I exhaled a sharp breath and lifted my gaze back to the creature again. The appendages on the sides of its head slowly searched the air, like palpating fingers.
They can’t see us.
It made sense. They didn’t have eyes nor noses, which left me wondering how they perceived movement.
Corwin turned toward me, and even from that distance, I could see the fear darkening his eyes.
I slowly held out my hand and mouthed,Don’t move.
One of the crushed monster’s limbs sticking out from the rubble twitched and shook, smacking against the piled stones beneath it. The beast looming over Corwin leapt across the pews toward it and clamped its teeth down, easily tearing the flesh from its bones.
Two more scrambled toward the ruins, and ear-piercing screeches echoed through the church as they fought over the carcasses of their own kind.
Too close to where we remained hidden.
Zevander slid his hand in mine and, with slow, careful steps, guided me toward the other side of the pews, only a few down from where Corwin remained crouched.
Father and Aleysia followed behind, and the vyrmish snapped their attention toward them.
I threw out my hands, and both of them ground to a halt.
The creatures rose up, biting at the air again.
“Vibrations,” Zevander whispered beside me. “They sense movement through the ground and in the air.”
As if they’d heard us, Father and Aleysia waited until the vyrmish turned back around, then padded softly toward the pews, where they crouched behind us.
Zevander pushed to his feet and carefully peered out of the window to our rear.
The vyrmish swung their attention back toward us, and he ducked down again.
“We’re surrounded by them,” he whispered. “We’ll have to fight them off.”
A silent dread clogged my lungs. “How many?”
“At least a dozen on this side. Who knows how many on that side.”
I twisted that way to see Raivox still showering the ground in silver flame, as he flew past the window across from us.
One of the vyrmish leapt onto the pew, hovering over Father and Aleysia, and my muscles shook as I watched Aleysia slowly cover her mouth with her hands.
Zevander rose to his feet, and the scorpion stepped from his back. In one vicious strike, it slammed its stinger into the body of the too-close vyrmish, and the creature squirmed as the scorpion jabbed it over and over, sending black fluid to spray over the pews, as well as Father and Aleysia.
A second beast scrambled over the pew, its claws gouging the wood as it ran straight for us.
Before it could so much as pounce, Zevander swung wide, his sword slicing through its neck in one quick strike that freed its head from its body.
The other vyrmish snapped their heads in his direction, and my stomach flipped on itself when he strode in the other direction, toward the cluster of vyrmish at the front of the church, beating his sword against the back of the pews.
