Page 139 of Atop the Faerie Throne
Forty-Five
Rhoswyn
The path Bree picks out for us branches over and over again, sloping steeply down into the darkness. The iron seams come and go, and I keep watching for them, shifting sides to make sure I’m as far away as physically possible. It’s as if the tunnel wyrms have been following the metal on purpose.
The only good thing about this new route is the lack of dead bodies, I think to myself, as I stumble away from a newly emerged red vein in the rock.
“Wait,” I whisper, stopping.
“What’s wrong?” Bree asks, as Jaro’s wolf lets out a small huff of concern.
There’s something…
“The portal,” I realise, lowering to a crouch and pressing my hand to the damp, slimy floor. “I think… it’s below us.”
It’s the strangest feeling, like a kind of repulsion that sinks into my bones. Everything about it is plain wrong, and the sensation crawls along my shoulders.
“The tunnel slopes down,” Caed says, striding back to us. “That’s a good sign, right?”
“Then let’s get going.” Lore blinks to my side, tugging me back to my feet.
“Any idea how far it is?” Bree asks, stopping me with another hand on my arm.
“No, it’s just a sense,” I say, shaking my head. “Maybe if we get closer, I’ll know more?”
This time, when we continue walking, they stick to my sides, surrounding me in a protective bubble without even discussing it. Unfortunately, the barrier they provide becomes suffocating when the ceiling starts to lower and breathing becomes hard.
When the passage opens up again, I’m so grateful that it takes me a second to realise we’ve walked into a cave of bones.
They’re everywhere; piled up against the walls, forming macabre dunes across the expanse of the floor. Threaded between the yellowing piles are the giant, papery remnants of a serpent’s skin, the scales catching the firelight like the ghost of a tunnel wyrm.
It’s so massive that it surrounds the room. In fact, I think there might be more than one.
I stop dead in my tracks, as does most of the Guard. Drystan alone keeps walking, blissfully unaware of what he’s stumbled into until his boot lands on a skeletal hand, crushing it.
The crunch is painfully loud, making Jaro’s wolf huff in annoyance.
“We need to leave,” Caed whispers. “Now. Turn around.”
A huge rumble—closer than any others—makes the very floor shake, and I stumble into Jaro’s side.
“No,” Bree argues, pointing towards the back of the cave, which is shrouded in darkness. “We’re getting closer to the scent. It’s that way.”
My Fomorian mate turns, his skin paling as he grates out, “It smells like Fomorians, because this is a tunnel wyrm nest. You’re scenting their leftovers. They’re fiercely territorial. Even fire won’t save us if they find us down here.”
Another rumble strikes, and I lose my nerve, taking a step backwards.
The move is a mistake. It leaves me off balance as the wall to my left collapses, putting me on my ass amongst the bones just as massive claws rend through the stone. A huge boulder is knocked free and thrown in my direction.
I’m frozen in place, unable to do anything except trace the path of that deadly stone as it barrels towards me. Jaro’s shield barely appears in time. The rock collides with the golden dome and is thrown off course by the impact. Now it’s heading straight for Drystan, who has nocluethat he’s about to get crushed. My heart squeezes, breath gathering for a scream?—
Lore blinks them both out of the way.
My scream escapes as a weedy noise of relief as the very angry tunnel wyrm finishes clawing its way into its nest, its huge serpentine tail coiling through behind it like an afterthought.
“Finally!” the redcap crows, drawing a wickedly serrated blade from the scabbard by his side. “Oooh, I’m so glad I brought the big one. Hey, pet, would you rather I skinned it so you can have a rug, or just take its head so we can mount it over the bed?”
“Redcap, watch your—” Caed’s warning cuts off as Lore blinks onto the feline head of the creature, evading the lime green cloud of its breath without a care.
