Page 62 of Returned to the Vissigroth
Ney, they probably didn't. I didn't think the Eulachs had any idea how to read or write.
We kept going, steadily up now, picking tunnels at random; there were too many for organized exploration. We found discarded arrowheads, a broken dagger, shards of a pitcher, and a dented cup. All signs that the Eulachs walked these tunnels. Except we didn't see any of them.
"They have to know we're here," Myccael cursed.
I agreed. As animalistic as the Eulachs were, they were also predatory; I didn't think they would leave their homes so unprotected that they wouldn't be aware of intruders. But that they hadn't charged us yet, like the brainless beasts they were, worried me.
"Without mapping this entire area," Darryck shook his head, "we wouldn’t even know where to look. They have the advantage of knowing the territory, so they could be anywhere."
I nodded. "That, and we don't even know if these mountains connect through underground tunnels." Which I had a dark suspicion that they did. If our digging crews had hit this many air pockets and underground shafts, there had to be multiple ofthem. From this part of the Pyme mountains to the other side, where… our camp was…
"Snyg." I cursed. "They're not that smart, are they?"
Darryck visibly paled. "To keep us busy here while…"
"They're on the other side, attacking our camp?" Myccael finished. His jaw worked. "Snyg. I'm not chancing it. Let's get back. Ekkarn, I want scouts and drones out here. Secure and map these tunnels. I want every nook and cranny catalogued."
"Zyn, Susserayn. Will you be returning to camp?"
"Damn right I will," Myccael looked as pissed as I remembered him being when he confronted Kennenryn, "and once there, I'll send the seffies back to Bantahar and order every legion here." He turned to Darryck and me, "I want several legions from each of my vissigroths. We're going to war against the Eulachs and the Renegades, and we have no way of knowing what kinds of weapons are already in the hands of the Renegades."
He turned back to Ekkarn. "I also want all the weapons you find cataloged and tested. I want our males trained on them."
We usually fought our wars with swords, but in this one, I was sure we would equip our legions with the phasors usually reserved for the space legions. Myccael was right. This coming war would not be like any we had seen or fought before.
For a moment, time seemed suspended. One moment, Surnak was issuing orders. The next, his eyes bulged, while a wet, gurgling sound caught in his throat as a long, jagged spear burst from between the plates of his armor.
“Ney!” I screamed, lunging forward, but Thalia yanked me back.
“Form up!” Zohran shouted, shoving us toward the wall, his sword already half-drawn.
The torchlight flickered violently as a hulking shadow filled the end of the hallway. Its movements were fast—too fast for something that size—and the smell hit us a moment later. Wet dirt. Rot. Burned bone.
Eulachs.
But thatthing, that was coming toward us, was too big to be a Eulach. It barely fit into the passageway. At least nine paces tall, it had to hunch over to move forward.
Oksana's eyes seemed to bulge from her head, "Gods, what isthat?"
It scraped its long claws across the wall, making a sound that had me shuddering in my bones and standing every single nerve ending at attention. Its heavy breaths echoed in the tight space, and I swore I could feel the breath of hell coming at me. One of the dragoons shouted and fell, his weapon clattering against the stone. Another cursed, charged forward, and just when his sword was about to hit the hulking monstrosity, a Eulach threw himself in between, sacrificing himself. Just as the dragoon’s sword cut through the Eulach, the monster's arm reached out and grabbed the hapless male by his throat, hurling him headfirst against the wall with enough force to kill him instantly. With our way forward blocked, we spun on our heels, intending to change directions, but it was too late. A second figure loomed behind us. Bigger. Bending to fit into the tunnel, its shoulders scraped the edges of the stone. It gave a throaty hiss that raked across my bones. Its thick, ridged arms and a chest like carved stone completely blocked the path. It moved with eerie grace, as if it had been waiting here, silent and patient.
Its hand shot out, and another dragoon crumpled. “They’re herding us!” Thalia snarled, but there was no other choice but to run into the one tunnel still open.
Zohran cursed and threw himself at the beast, yelling over his shoulder, “Run! Take them and run!”
We didn’t wait. We couldn’t. Thalia grabbed my wrist, and Oksana was close at my back as we sprinted through a side tunnel, the only exit not yet blocked.
“Come on!” Thalia shouted.
We plunged into what looked like a narrow maintenance tunnel, half-lit by flickering overhead strips. I could hear Zohran and the others fighting, sounds of metal striking flesh, cries of pain and fury. But they faded quickly behind us, muffled by stone and distance.
We ran without speaking, our breaths harsh in the silence. The walls curved and twisted, like they didn’t belong to any one architecture, and the floor sloped steadily down.
“We’re heading deeper,” I gasped. “This isn’t the way back?—”
“I know,” Oksana said. “But it’s the only way not full of monsters.”
About twenty dragoons were still with us, while the others had stayed to fight. We were too far now to hear the noise of battle any longer, and I wondered: Was it over? Who won?
