Page 25 of Skyshade
She stilled. Her eyes flew open.
The cave greeted her. She didn’t dare breathe. Want flared within her like a wildfire, but she buried it down, instead forcing herself to scuttle forward, away from him. He was awake. Of course he was. He probably hadn’t slept a moment, lest they be caught unawares by some creature in the cave.
She turned, and they stared at each other. For just one second, the air between them felt taut, like a single move could break the illusion between them. Like one movement forward, one word, or one rasped breath could lead to them tangled together on the floor.
She rose to her feet. Grim did the same, and she didn’t dare stare at him, not again. She turned and began dressing. Her clothes were dry now. Not just dry, but warm.
Without glancing at him, she made her way to the tunnels. There were a few paths to choose from. Each had different colored crystals embedded in the ceiling.
She had led them through the last tunnel, and it had nearly gotten them killed. It was his turn. “Choose,” she said. He moved ahead of her, and they walked through the mouth of his chosen tunnel in silence.
At first, it seemed as though Grim had picked a good path. For miles and miles, the worst thing about it was the climb. They had gone down, and now they were forced back up, to a degree that seemed impossibly high. Her calves burned, and she feared falling backward, rolling all the way back down. Likely breaking her neck in the process. She leaned forward, angled over her knees, steadying herself. Her breathing became labored.
Her leg had bled through its bandages again. She could feel the blood dripping down her ankle. Filling her shoe. Crusting between her toes. It was impossible to stop here, in the narrow space, the floor curved and treacherous.
Times like these made her grateful for her training. It was hours until the path became level. She nearly sank to her knees in relief but worried she wouldn’t be able to stand again if she did. The muscles in her legs were all stiff. The nerves were either numb or burning with exertion.
They had to be close. She didn’t think she could last much longer.
The crystals in the ceiling became more plentiful, until they led to a wide cave. A clearing. Beyond it, another tunnel entrance awaited.
But it was blocked.
“What,” she asked, not daring speak beyond a whisper. “Is that?”
A dark shadow concealed the entrance—a monstrous figure with long, thin limbs. It reminded her of a grasshopper, if grasshoppers grew to be twenty feet tall.
Its skin was iridescent. Every time it breathed, every inch of it rippled.
It turned sharply toward her. It had no face.
Isla backed away, placing her hand on the blade at her hip. She waited for it to advance. But it did not. It simply stood at its post in front of the tunnel, facing them.
“We’re going to have to get past it,” she said.
Grim sighed. “Any ideas?”
Without a face, did the creature have all its senses? As a test, she reached down, grabbed a rock, and threw it to the other side of the clearing.
It hammered wildly against a wall. The sound echoed.
The creature didn’t move an inch. Interesting.
It had sensed her, somehow, though...if not from her speaking, then from what? She took a step forward and nearly slipped in a dark, wet streak by her heel. That was when she realized it.
“Blood. It senses blood.”
Grim looked from her leg to the creature. “I think you’re right.”
Isla knelt to the ground.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“What do you think?”
She began to undo her wrapping. He stopped her, with a hand over hers. “Keep it on. I’ll cut my arm.”
She shook his touch away. “You said it yourself. This is a test to see if they’ll let me in at all. It has to be me.” Grim didn’t seem happy about it, but she didn’t really care. She hadn’t been nearly shredded, or drowned, or trapped in this dusty tunnel system only to stop short of speaking to the order of prophet-followers.
