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Everything I have seen.
And I’m going to be eaten.
Fort explodes from the trees, my sword in his hand. His expression is murderous, his body gleaming with sweat.
“Fort!” I yell, hope burning in me.
He rushes forward and reaches me as the rest of the warriors come through.
“Do not let it close its mouth!” the man who spoke to me earlier calls out. “Whatever you do!” He rushes forward with his spear as Fort rushes for me. The thing thrashes and tries to get further into the trees, but the warriors surround it.
My fingers loosen on the branch.
“Hold on!” Fort yells.
“I’m trying!”
It throws its head to the side and slams it into the trunk of a large tree, my own hits the razor-sharp teeth I’ve been somehow avoiding. Warm blood trickles down my face, blocking my vision.
I can’t wipe it away for fear that I will lose my grip once and for all.
Pain shoots up my arm, but I focus only on breathing and holding the hell on.
The beast lets out a guttural roar, the stench of its breath making my stomach roll. Bile rises, but seconds later, it falls to the ground. The branch in its mouth snaps from the force of its fall, and its mouth slams closed.
My lungs burn. “Help me!” I scream. “Please!”
Light sneaks through a crack in the creature’s upper and lower jaws, as hands come into view. The warriors pry its mouth open, and Fort reaches inside. He takes my hands and pulls me out, keeping me up enough that I don’t scrape the teeth again.
He falls backward, me on top of him. I cling to him, breathing ragged, adrenaline still pulsing through my veins. My body begins to shake, tremors ripping through me. Everything hurts, making it impossible to tell what is the worse of the injuries or if I’m perhaps just imagining most of them.
Fort tugs his tunic free from beneath me; then fabric shreds and he presses part of it to my head. My cheek rests against his bare chest, right above his heart, and I focus on the steady pounding of it, using it to soothe my own.
Chapter 17
Fort
“What the fuck was that?” I demand as I press a piece of my tunic to Carleah’s forehead. There’s a huge gash right at her hairline, likely from one of those things’ teeth. Her clothing is shredded and soaked with its saliva and her blood, so many injuries I can’t even begin to count. Her sword lays beside me, virtually useless given its delicate form.
“A Worm Tongue,” one replies. “But it should have been dormant. They all sleep in the day.” He turns in a slow circle, spear at the ready. All of them have turned their backs to Carleah and me as they watch the tree line. He shakes his head, clearly uneasy. “We need to get moving. If it was awake, others might be too, and her blood will draw attention we don’t want.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, she’s bleeding from every-fucking-where. I can’t move her yet.” I grab at her tunic, trying to pull it up to see the extent of her injuries. Her leather belt is gone as is the sheath used to hold her sword.
“You’re going to have to wait,” a woman says. “Or none of us will survive much longer.”
Muttering a curse, I dab at Carleah’s head then take the rest of my tunic and put it over her. My arm still aches from yesterday, so I shift her in my lap and cradle the top half of her with my good arm. The man who’d spoken retrieves her sword, keeping it in one hand, his spear in the other.
Shadow nuzzles her, but she doesn’t seem to notice due to the violent tremors currently shaking her body. I lift her in my arms, my tunic on her lap.
“Come.” The man who leads these warriors starts toward the trees. He moves faster now as do the others. Every step I take sends pain burning through my shoulder, but I bite it back, furious that I don’t have the strength and healing I usually do.
I’ve never felt so fucking hopeless as I did as I watched her being ripped through those trees. All I could think about was that I’d now lost her, too.
“Come. The entrance is just up ahead.” He pushes through the forest, damn near running, until we reach smooth obsidian. In it, I can see my reflection. Wild eyes, mussed hair, short beard—I don’t even recognize the man staring back at me.
A man who looks more animal than human.
“Here.” He gestures to a wooden door set in the obsidian. It’s dark wood, the hinges made of thick steel.
